The Keepers

So, we made it to to the odd-numbered conclusion of The Keepers. I'd have prefixed this post with 'spoiler alert' except that the warning would have been about as meaningful in front of a recap of an episode of the new Twin Peaks. 

Certainly, if you have been left wondering who the alleged nun-killer 'Brother Bob' might have been, David Lynch is probably your go-to guy. 

The whole thing was indeed plotted in a rather Lynchian fashion, with a superficial sense of linearity laid over a more elliptical narrative, with frustrating non sequiturs at every turn. At one point in episode six V quipped that 'by the time they get back to the maggots I'll probably be covered in them myself!'

This was essentially a tale about people keeping things to themselves for too long or simply not saying as much as they actually know, and director Ryan White appears to have tried to adopt this as the pattern of his own exposition. 

The two main areas of interest, the slaughter of Sister Cathy and the sorry history of systematic abuse by Father Maskell were in the end somewhat flimsily coupled, via a single eye witness account of a guided visit to the cadaver. I was disappointed that no connection between the clergy/law enforcement and uncles Edgar and Bill was ever fleshed out. 

I was also rather disappointed that nobody explicitly voiced the irony implicit in the Archdiocese's response to Maskell's outing as a pederast: send him to a girls' school; that should do the trick! 

When the Forensic investigator Doctor Werner Spitz turned up and started rolling out names like JFK and OJ Simpson, the term 'Rosicrucians' popped into my head spontaneously...and for one ghastly moment it occurred to me that the whole series might be an elaborate spoof. 

The cops were all reassuringly archetypal. This lot in Baltimore couldn't release the autopsy report as this might prejudice any future cold case investigation, yet meanwhile had lost all the rest of the physical evidence. If anyone was supposed to be the eponymous keepers, it certainly wasn't them. 

We were particularly gobsmacked by Sharon May, the prosecutor tasked with taking on cases of sexual abuse in the area, who rather obvious lacks any interest whatsoever in her chosen field. The painful logic of her inertia was quite simple: we need corroboration but don't get too excited if you get it, because then we'll tell you every case has to stand up on its own anyway. 

This series will no doubt have played well with people, such as myself, who regard religion as a crime against humanity. However, nobody should be holding their breath that the Roman Catholic Church will become any less self-serving, secretive and manipulative as a result of exposés such as this.