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When \u201cThe Jinx\u201d premiered in 2015, it was one of the pillars of the new true-crime wave \u2014 high-end but sufficiently lurid, with soap-opera twists but also documentary legitimacy. In the absence of criminal justice, maybe entertainment justice could suffice.<\/p>\n
Now the director Andrew Jarecki is back with \u201cThe Jinx \u2014 Part Two,\u201d six more episodes detailing the stranger-than-fiction saga of the real estate scion and convicted murderer Robert Durst. (Only the first four episodes were made available for review. Hmm!) This \u201cJinx\u201d isn\u2019t just about Durst, though; it\u2019s a \u201cJinx\u201d about \u201cThe Jinx,\u201d folding the story back in on itself yet again, additional layers of narratives and truths and maybe-truths, all getting rolled out together as delicious, buttery true-crime dough.<\/p>\n
The first episode, which airs Sunday at 10 p.m. on HBO, includes footage of dozens of people connected to the case all gathering to watch the original finale together. That was indeed a shocking episode of television<\/a>, with Durst\u2019s hot-mic bathroom confession as its astounding yet fitting conclusion. (The filmmakers later faced criticism<\/a> for significantly editing Durst\u2019s remarks, but maintained that the edits were representative of what he said.) The reaction scene plays out not with churning pathos but instead like TikToks of people watching Ned Stark meet his surprising fate or videos of fans in a sports bar groaning in unison. Even subjects of \u201cThe Jinx\u201d experience it as a show, as fandom of one\u2019s own life.<\/p>\n Over and over, this \u201cJinx\u201d includes people discussing original \u201cJinx.\u201d Some describe it directly to Jarecki in interviews, or they mention it in recorded phone calls Durst made from prison, or they say on the witness stand that they watched the show, that they learned details of the case from TV. Actual courthouse footage blends together with hazy re-creation images, and we hear real audio but over fake visuals. And as the show turns its attention to Durst\u2019s long-delayed trial, \u201cThe Jinx\u201d takes on a behind-the-scenes quality as much as a true-crime one.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n This \u201cJinx\u201d maintains the original\u2019s inescapable momentum, which feels almost miraculous given that Durst died in 2022<\/a>. It\u2019s also a warped, fascinating paean to the power of friendship, with Durst demonstrating that consistent, chatty phone calls and a few piles of money can make a shocking number of people look the other way when it comes to murder. \u201cWhat do you do when your best friend kills your other best friend?\u201d wonders one such associate, who for decades apparently concluded the answer was \u201cnothing.\u201d<\/p>\n Putting \u201cThe Jinx\u201d in conversation with itself is a handy way of having the show reckon with its successors, which include fellow prestige tabloid shows and also shakier, sometimes exploitative true-crime series.<\/p>\n The allure of the first installment was, in part, Durst\u2019s audaciousness, the hubris of it all. Periodically in this new set of episodes, people acknowledge that participating in a documentary about how you got away with murder is a pretty effective way to stop getting away with murder<\/a>. But oh, the fame! One upside of the true-crime glut is the frequent exposure of policing and prosecution failures, a suggestion that our justice system can also function as a justice economy \u2014 and one of its currencies is attention.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n