REDRUM TRUE CRIME (Spotify/Apple Podcasts)*****

 

By Sophie

Link on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/1FCoeRZQeDkEJ5i8bGuFpy

Link on Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/redrum-true-crime/id1515905584

Link to Patreon episodes: REDRUM true crime is creating podcasts | Patreon

Available until: Unknown

This review was posted after I’d listened to approximately half of the podcasts. It is very much my intention to listen to the others and it is possible that another review will follow in due course, but there is so much to say about them and my notes for the review were already so ridiculously long, it seemed sensible to post a review now and add a second later. There are nineteen episodes currently on Spotify with others available to Patreons.

REDRUM is an excellent and fascinating series of crime podcasts written and presented by Grace Cordell and produced by Russ Clark and Grace. True crime is not my area of expertise (though I love crime fiction), but although Mobile Theatre was primarily envisaged as a means of drawing attention to the online plays that have become available in lockdown, it seems important to explore other media too. This is not always easy as there are so many wonderful theatrical productions of all kinds currently available online, but here is my first foray into the worlds of podcasts and almost my first into true crime.

Most of the episodes are available on Spotify and can be listened to for free by anyone with an account. This seems particularly generous considering the quality of the podcasts, but of course, I have limited familiarity with podcasts and this might not be that unusual. For those who wish to support this important project and have the means to do so, there are additional episodes on Patreon, which can be accessed in return for a monthly subscription. This is available at three price levels.

By definition, the subject matter of REDRUM is distressing. Many people will choose not to listen to these podcasts and Russ himself says that caution is advised. Listening to a true crime podcast is not like reading a detective novel, in which we experience the feeling almost of a happy ending when the perpetrator is caught by the clever detective. It would be inaccurate to say there are no happy endings in these podcasts at all as (slight spoiler) not all the victims die. But even in these cases, the effects of what happened, both physical or mental, remain. Also, despite the diligence (or due to the incompetence, or even corruption) of the police, the perpetrator is not always caught. Not in real life.

I haven’t read many true crime stories, but those I have read were presented in a similar way to crime fiction. The focus was on the villain. Their plans and their psychology. Their cleverness and their flaws. The one mistake that seals their guilt beyond doubt. The victim can become almost an incidental; someone we barely get to know at all. The villain becomes the focus and perhaps even, in a terrible way, the star.

REDRUM looks at the stories from a different angle. Grace does talk about the attackers: their history, their methods and their possible reasons and motivations. She does consider, where appropriate, that there might be an explanation far more complicated than a desire to hurt someone. But they are not usually the main characters. (And when they are, the situation is considerably more complicated than it first appears.)

The main characters are the victims (though it seems wrong to call them that; they are so much more than victims, yet, tragically, we cannot call most of them survivors). Grace’s careful and detailed research gives us the opportunity to learn quite a lot about her subjects’ lives, often going back to their early childhood. We learn about their roles in society and their interests. Their families and their place in them. Their plans for a future which either didn’t happen or was radically changed forever. We get to know – and to care for – these human beings, who should be nowhere near the ends of their lives (and I most certainly include the eighty-one year old in that). They are people whom we almost feel we know as we slowly learn their horrifying stories, yet we are only feeling a fraction of what those who knew them must have felt.

Grace’s presentation of the stories is truly exceptional. She writes each story clearly and well. They are easy to follow, even if it is a difficult experience emotionally. Grace does not shy away from the facts and there are details of injuries which were intentionally and brutally inflicted (the first Patreon episode is particularly explicit), but she says no more than she needs to in order to make her point and explain what happened. The facts are presented plainly and simply.

Yet there is nothing plain in Grace’s delivery. She is professional enough to keep her emotions at bay, but they are there, under the surface. She is not detached; she is emotionally present for every word. There is a strong sense that each story means a good deal to Grace. Researching was probably intensely painful, but my impression is that it was a labour of love; a need for these tragic but important stories to be told. They are told with sincerity, honesty, respect and compassion, by someone who truly cares.

Grace’s voice is also exceptionally clear. I am hearing impaired and even with videos, I often find myself struggling if there are no captions. A podcast, of course, not only has no captions, it also has no video so I can’t use Grace’s face and lip movements to help me to hear what she’s saying. But I don’t need any of that. I can understand every word.

The stories are tragic and terrible, but they need and deserve to be told. The important people in the stories deserve to be remembered. Those who listen to these beautifully-written and well-presented podcasts will remember the people and their stories and keep them in their minds and their hearts. We can never bring them back. But we can remember them.

It would be wrong to describe the podcasts as entertaining, but for the right audience, they are undeniably enriching. There is also the opportunity to learn. Grace tells us not only about the crime and the result of the investigation, but the investigation itself. Mistakes are often made due to carelessness or to neglecting the rules, for example by contaminating the scene or failing to conduct an interview to the correct standards. These momentous errors can lead to an incorrect verdict, with the wrong person punished and the right person freed. Grace believes it is vitally important that the police learn from these mistakes and I agree with her. Tragically, it is very often impossible to prevent a crime from occurring – but if it is possible, the best way of doing so is by understanding and learning from previous mistakes. There is certainly also more that can be done to ensure that the victims and their families have justice and that the perpetrator is prevented from repeating their crimes.

The podcasts also have the potential to help others, both in terms of encouraging people to be mindful of their own safety (none of the victims are in any way to blame for what happened, but their stories demonstrate the sad and stark truth that the world is an even crueller and more dangerous place than many realise) and in raising awareness of important subjects. One podcast acknowledges that anyone can suffer domestic violence, including men. The statistics on this are eye-opening, especially when you consider that a man could be significantly less likely to report domestic violence than a woman, due to the still far too prevalent view that men should have the mental strength to deal with their problems in silence. This view is unrealistic, outdated and intensely damaging to all the men who need to talk but feel silenced by society’s conventions. As Grace says, domestic violence doesn’t discriminate and can happen to anyone. If only more people had her insight.

REDRUM is a truly outstanding and remarkable piece of work, which is enhanced by poignant piano music, composed by Benjamin James. If you like true crime podcasts (or if you’d like to give them a try, as I have) and you feel that, mentally, you are in the right place to listen to them, Grace’s podcasts are beautiful, moving and exceptional. They could not be more highly recommended.

 

PS: Many of us have our own interests and triggers and our own need to raise awareness of whichever subjects happen to be important to us and there are a couple things I’d really like to say concerning borderline personality disorder (mentioned in Podcast 1) and asexuality (which is not mentioned in Podcast 6, though some might feel it is relevant). I say this not to correct or criticise Grace. These facts are outside the scope of her podcasts and there was no obligation for her to mention them, but it feels wrong for me to remain quiet on subjects which are deeply important to me.

There is a general feeling amongst many in society that people with BPD are violent towards other people. I have BPD myself and have worked and socialised with others who have this condition. Violence towards others is sometimes considered a BPD trait, but not all traits are required in order for a diagnosis to be made. I, and almost all the people I’ve known with BPD, are not violent towards other people.

But the vast majority of us are not newsworthy; it is only those with BPD who do something out of the ordinary, such as committing a crime, who attract society’s attention, and it is their behaviour for which we all become known. This makes it difficult for many people with BPD who might otherwise wish to speak out about their condition. It’s difficult enough dealing with the BPD traits we do have; we don’t want everyone to think we’re murderers too. So we remain silent (well… apart from the odd internet confession when we were actually supposed to be talking about a brilliant podcast) and the BPD myth persists.

Here is a page on the MIND website that explains a bit about BPD. I was a (very small) part of the team that produced this information. It describes some traits which I have and some which I don’t. There is nothing about physically harming others.

Of course, some people with BPD do harm others. So do some people without BPD.

Secondly, I noticed that the episode dedicated to the LGBTQI community did not include A, or asexuality. I do understand this as many people consider asexuality to be a bit different from other sexualities. There is evidence to suggest that we’re marginalised and misunderstood rather than actively hated and our behaviour is arguably less likely to provoke anger and disgust in prejudiced people (‘people’ is not quite the word I have in mind, but I’m trying to behave myself) who don’t like to see anything unusual where relationships and gender are concerned. However, many asexuals have experienced hate crime, social ostracisation and even, appallingly, ‘corrective rape’.

To dispel one myth about us, we are not incapable of love; we simply have no desire to have sex. In my case, asexuality means I do have romantic crushes on certain people, but I just want to cuddle the boys, kiss the girls and leave it at that (other genders vary, but I see trans women as women and trans men as men and some of them are totally my type), but there are many variants of asexuality and a number of us are also represented by at least one other letter in the LGBTQI acronym.

Many people misunderstand asexuality; others refuse to accept its existence. My ex-psychologist told me I ought to be having sex. I told her she ought to be having a serious look at her ethics. Implying that your vulnerable clients – or anyone else, for that matter - should consent to or seek out unwanted sexual experiences might not be classed as a crime, but it is still abhorrent. The fact an experienced psychologist could be so much in ignorance of a sexual orientation which is known to cause psychological problems (either in terms of our own difficulty in coming to terms with it, or coping with somebody else’s belief that we should adopt a more conventional lifestyle) shows how little it is known and understood.