Forensic Files

“I was a Soldier - I’m tough. I can and will defend myself.” Is just a couple of the mantras I might have to continuously repeat to myself after watching this crime series every night before bed for over a year. When my boyfriend first found out about my nightly affair, he immediately asked; “What happens when the crimes creeps into your dreams?” Thankfully nothing about this show has crossed into the threshold of my subconscious while I sleep. Now, whether that phenomena, or lack thereof, is due to my nightly ingestion of melatonin gummies or an acquired apathy towards murder, I will let you decide.

The show first aired in 1996, as the advancement of forensic science would dictate, through the discovery of DNA evidence. Generally, the stories are of murders committed in the late 1980’s and early 90’s. The show offers a nostalgic glimpse into the past as pictures of white washed jeans, orange and brown home décor, and blue eye shadow flash onto the TV screen. This true crime show, through the help of velvet-voiced narrator, re-enactments, and interviews with people involved; introduces you to a victim, their murder, and its investigation. The premise, in the end, is how the use of forensic evidence ultimately helps the detectives solve the case and prosecutors convict the murderer.

Admittingly, I have been known to jolt out of bed to double check the door locks or turn on a couple lights. Occasionally, the victim is a woman who lives alone in an unsecured open air apartment complex, thousands of miles away from her family. The similarities to my own life in those storylines are a bit too close to home to allow me to simply nod off to sleep untriggered.

The adrenaline rush which simultaneously creates a vivid montage in my mind of how I would undoubtedly defend myself if I were attacked by my maintenance man, and retraces my steps for the day to try to figure out if I had been followed by an obsessed stalker, happens less than twenty percent of the time. The other eighty percent of the time, I find myself oddly soothed by the narrator’s slightly monotonous baritone voice.

Let’s be clear, Mr. Peter Thomas isn’t singing. This well decorated Army veteran has made quite a career for himself out of just, talking. Instead, his voice introduces you to a town, a murder victim, and the victims’ friends and family. Eventually, one sided interview reels provide the victims’ surviving friends and family an opportunity to describe their loved one. Following the same one-sided interview format, the detectives, coroners, and prosecutors give first-hand accounts about the investigation and case.

Mr. Thomas’ storytelling is only slightly interrupted by the interviews and bolstered by the suspenseful background music. If you let it, the instrumentals used can set you up for quite an eerie experience. The speedy tempo of a synthesizer being unexpectedly halted by a choreography of string instruments give you a sense of dread whilst investigating the murder. A sense of dread which quickly turns into fear as the details of the murder are recounted.

But if Mr. Thomas’ calm voice is given center stage and the instrumentals are left muffled in the background, you can receive a completely different viewing experience. His silky voice chronicles the story of the investigation and once its solved, he recounts the story of the murder step by step, only taking small pauses for emphasis.

In fact, it has been encouraged by many in the legal community to adopt this story telling technique when arguing cases in front of a jury. I could go on a tangent about how watching this show may be some form of on-going continued legal education for me, where I am familiarizing myself with the coveted oratory technique and learning about how countless crimes can be solved through the investigation of a thread, a product’s serial number, or DNA.

The truth is, I love this show mostly for the moments when the details can be ignored and I can be cradled to sleep by Mr. Thomas’ voice.