“A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true to one another.”
It’s the 300th episode of CSI. And…there is absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about it.
A girl is killed in a rich man’s house, a crime which echoes a similar one committed fourteen years ago which was never solved. One of the CSI team (I don’t know which one, they’re all interchangeable in my head) is, of course, hung up on this, and determined to catch her criminal – even if actual evidence shows that he’s the wrong one.
As in every single other CSI episode ever written, the episode turns on unlikely coincidences – hey, the remastered film turns out to have an actual date written up there in the corner – and conclusions that seem based on scanty evidence – there’s a break in the baseboard! That must mean something, right? If any real-world Murder Mystery team worked like this, they would all be fired or sued within the week.
You know what? It’s actually too boring even to write about. American Murder Mysteries are just really, really stupid. Sorry.