It's impossible to determine how many Nielsen boxes are installed in America's trailer courts, but high ratings for Oxygen's true-crime reality show Snapped establish that women somewhere are tuning-in in large numbers. The fourth season of Snapped debuted on Oct. 1 with the story of millionaire Nevada casino owner Ted Binion's 1999 murder. Multiple airings of this episode continue, followed by 12 more original installments to complete the new season.
Binion's live-in mistress Sandy Murphy and her boyfriend Rick Tabish were found guilty of murder, conspiracy, and theft in 2000. But Murphy's murder conviction was overturned due to prosecutorial misconduct, and she was released from prison. Murphy cooperates with the producers of Snapped and appears in newly obtained interview footage on the debut installment.
The story behind the story of Snapped is the fact that it's produced by Jupiter Entertainment, which also produced A&E's true-crime reality series City Confidential. Narrated by the late Paul Winfield, City Confidential continues in repeat syndication on A&E with the slightly bizarre affect of Winfield's narration now coming from the grave. With woo-woo background music and pacing more leaden than Waiting for Godot, City Confidential is a bit of a test for viewers not heavily sedated. The structure and format of City Confidential are precisely duplicated in Snapped .
It seems Jupiter Entertainment learned from past mistakes, and Snapped moves at a brisk pace, with sparkling visuals and a higher quality voiceover, delivered by a female narrator. But apparently there is more than a little recycling of content going on, because the story of Ted Binion's murder was already covered earlier in an episode of City Confidential that still appears occasionally in reruns.
The content of Snapped targets Oxygen's core demographic by focusing on everyday women who turn into killers. In some respects, these women are the real desperate housewives, and their true stories resonate with female viewers. The Technicolor extravagance of a Hollywood back-lot simply cannot compete with the bleak realities of a real woman who snaps one day and takes the life of a friend, enemy, or family member. Stories like these, as old as Medea, retain a lurid appeal that is apparently timeless.