The Summer of Bosch

By

Scott D. Parker

 

A few weeks ago, I wrote about watching the Amazon Prime TV series Bosch. Based on Michael Connelly’s novel series, there are now six seasons, 60 episodes of excellent television.

And I’ve gone through them all.

Now I’ve caught up with the rest of the folks who watched Bosch live as it aired. I’m not a binger. I still have the weekly airing of TV episodes ingrained in my DNA. But with streaming, I have modified my viewing. With about an hour a day for TV, my wife and I watch a show at 9pm every night. Thus, a 10-episode season of Bosch typically took about ten days, more or less.

Except the last couple of seasons.

Now, work nights, I still have only an hour for TV, but when the viewing bled into the weekends? Well, we might watch two or (shocker) three a night. I know that sounds funny to some of y’all, but I don’t like to blow through TV shows and have nothing left.

Early on this summer, we watched season 1 of Bosch then switched to another show. Prodigal Son. Happened again after season 2 (although I forgot the other show). Then the magic happened. After season 3 as we were discussing which show to watch next, the wife suggested Bosch season 4.

Done!

And we didn’t look back until we had finished the entire series to date.

I wrote earlier about the cast and they remain the best thing about the show. But as the series went on, I particularly liked the relationship between Bosch and his daughter who, by season six, is a college student finding her way through life. Titus Welliver and Madison Lintz have such good chemistry that you’d almost think they really are father and daughter.

The one thing I dislike about binging is the sudden void after you’ve reached the end. Tis why I like to watch shows slow. When we reached episode 60, there was a moment where we looked at each other and questioned if that was it? (We had purposefully avoided looking up anything on the internet because we didn’t want any spoilers. My wife spoiled herself when she was reading about the show and learned the fate of one of the major characters.)

Yes, there will be a season 7, but that’ll be it. Amazon has cancelled the show, but allowed it to end gracefully.

So it turned out that the Bosch TV show was our through line during the summer of 2020. I couldn’t be more satisfied.

 

BTW, our next show is Glitch (Netflix), an Australian show with an interesting premise: a few dead folks crawl out of their graves one night without any memories but in perfect health. 

Breaking Down Bosch on TV

by
Scott D. Parker

When you're a writer, you always notice structure in a story, no matter the medium.

Not sure why the wife and I never started watching Amazon Prime's Bosch TV show, based on Michael Connelly's series of books, but a few weeks ago, we pulled the plug.

And have loved every moment of the first three seasons. Titus Welliver as the titular character is fantastic. Now, I say that as someone who's read only a handful of the Bosch books so he may or may not be everyone's first choice, but with Connelly on as an executive producer, he saw something he liked. Besides, it's a different medium. I love his intensity and Bosch's sense of justice no matter the cost, even to himself or his career. We're just a couple of episodes into the fourth season and I so love the fact that Bosch was assigned the main case because he wasn't the target of the victim, a dead lawyer who had gone after cops. How'd Bosch miss this guy?

Jerry Edgar, or J. Edgar, is Bosch's partner. Played by Jamie Hector of The Wire fame, he's naturally much younger than Bosch. You do get the typical veteran-to-younger guy vibe, but that's okay. J. Edgar dresses nice, has a wife and two young children, and is in a different place in life. Hector does a fine job of saying much by saying little, and I liked how his character gradually changed over the first three seasons, especially the third as he came to understand what makes Bosch tick.

The imposing Lance Reddick plays Irvin Irving, a guy who ends up being promoted to interim chief of police. I swear, if he were interrogating me, all he'd have to do was just stare at me and I'd talk. Another veteran of The Wire, Reddick brings a simmering intensity to even the most mundane of scenes. When the chief experiences a personal tragedy, there is one scene Reddick nails.

Amy Aquino plays Bosch's long-suffering lieutenant. Like all the cast in this show, she fits right in with the hard-boiled detectives of her squad. She gives as good as she gets, and is always there to back Bosch. We got a little of her backstory in season three and its...dicey.

I could go on, but I wanted to circle back to being a writer and watching a show like this. Each season is ten episodes, each about 45-50 minutes, give or take. The writers spin multiple threads during season three. There's the murder-of-the-season, there's the cold case involving the murder of Bosch's prostitute mother, there's Bosch's family life (teenaged daughter and ex-wife and her husband; the ex is a professional poker player), there's J. Edgar's family, and Chief Irving's story. That's five not including the bad guys who are involved in the season-long mystery.

I find it fascinating how well the stories ebb and flow, play off each other, and become resolved. Sometimes, it's about a 30-second scene with a few lines of dialogue. Other times, it's a full section. I haven't yet sat down to analyze a single episode, but I'm thinking about it. It seems so effortless, but I know it's based on long and hard work. You can learn structure and story by breaking down a book or TV show. I did it with The Da Vinci Code back in the day and a few episodes of Castle.

I'll keep watching for structure as we get through season four. It opens up new ideas in my head for how to craft a story. Writers. We're always learning.

The only problem with binge viewing? You eventually reach the end. Next season is next year. But I'm gonna enjoy this show. It'll probably lead me to the books.

What are the best Bosch books?

Riding Waves or Making Them

Brian and I were chatting on the weekend about selling out. No, I don't mean that we have untold amounts of property of great worth we could cash in on so we could retire on a private island. I mean selling out creatively.

He was saying that, despite the fact that he knew that if he had an opportunity he'd sell out in a minute, he was saying how much he wants authors to swing for the fences, that too many series go on too long and lose their luster.

The risk to the artist is stagnation.

On the flip side, I commented about how often I've given my head a shake over the latest TV star who quits an iconic role because they think they can make it big in movies. Why don't they see they have a good thing going and enjoy the moment?

It struck me as odd that I had opposing views for different industries.

I know how some things work in publishing. Years ago, the shocking truth was revealed at a Harrogate panel; publishers don't want something completely original. They want something that is similar to things that are currently successful because they know how to market that type of product.

The question then, is, how do you become the one who's making waves and leading the charge, rather than the one who's simply riding someone else's wave?

I'm not sure I have any easy answers for that question. There's been some chatter, on Facebook and elsewhere lately, about trends. One discussion was about whether there was an emerging trend towards using small towns or remote settings in fiction. I wonder if it's the Fargo effect. Personally, I find just another New York or Los Angeles story a little dull. It's like the only things that happen in the world happen there. Give me someplace different. Breaking Bad did it. Fargo is doing it. Fortitude is about as far off the map as you can get.

Originality isn't just developed through setting, though. I think one has to be willing to set aside conventions and think outside the box, but also be progressive. There are some things that get tiresome in fiction. I was thinking about that with the start of season 3 of Bosch. In season 2 (run now if you haven't caught that season yet and want to avoid a spoiler) Lance Reddick's character's son is killed in the line of duty. His wife blames him for getting their boy killed. I wanted to throw something at the TV. You let your boy enter the police academy. You watched him graduate. You talked to him about his work on the police force. You didn't tell him it was too dangerous to be a cop. Nope. You were good with it, until the unthinkable happened. And at that point you react irrationally and blame Dad and end the marriage.

Because women are pure emotional reaction, right?

Homeland isn't flawless, but one of the things it does do is portray strong women. I think that they rectified this largely in season 4. Carrie's bipolar had exacerbated her emotional components in earlier seasons, but she really matures in her role in season 4 and is capable of making tough decisions, even when potential personal loss is involved. The US Ambassador is a strong compliment to Carrie's role.

I'm not saying you can't have women of all stripes in fiction, but that's the point; your women should play more than one note. So should your men. In today's increasingly complex world, returning to the same stereotypes and tropes is the equivalent of recycling trends, and in some cases this means recycling trends that aren't even fresh.

On the one hand, I realize that some of my fiction may never find a conventional home because of the limited perspective of what's considered marketable. But on the other hand, I know that if I were to ever achieve the next level of success it will be because I've swung for the fences, and stuck the landing. Ask me what I'm looking for with the stories for the Spinetingler issue, and I'm asking myself, "Has this been done before?" Challenge yourself to bring something new to the table, even if you're writing a procedural piece or a PI story or a tale of romantic betrayal.

For right now, I have the luxury of writing what I want to write, and no plans to write anything that I'm not personally interested in. I hope everything I have that gets published will mark some form of growth, whether it's the growth of writing just one POV, or the growth of crossing genre lines. Hopefully, whether it's in two years or twenty, this will help me reach a point where I produce something that makes my husband proud.