Only Murders In The Building has reached the conclusion of its second season and revealed its surprising conclusion. Who killed Bunny Folger? Here is our spoiler-y sleuthing from the tenth and final episode of season two, I Know Who Did It, as well as a look forward to the brand new mystery from season three.
Check out our previous posts about the show for more clues, observations and theories.
Note: This post assumes you have seen every episode of Only Murders in the Building’s first and second seasons, or that you’re at least willing to play along as though you have.
This year’s season of Only Murders in the Building leaned hard into a jigsaw motif, and with good reason: it’s a strong, simple and fitting analog for actually watching shows like this one, with the sorting through of smaller pieces which are then slowly pieced together until a larger picture appears.
But if you’ve ever purchased a jigsaw from your local charity shop and found it short of a few pieces, or even with a few extra bits included that might seem to belong but actually never slot into the puzzle at all, then you’ll know how frustrating a badly packaged jigsaw can be.
If season two of Only Murders proves anything, it’s that a nearly complete puzzle, with infuriating gaps in conspicuous places and a fist full of pointlessly left-over pieces, can still present a spectacular, beautiful image.
The shape of this final episode was hammered out for maximum whiplash, starting with an opening scene that casts viewers into a new time and place. While Poppy White was the narrator of episode six, a new accent revealed that we were now in the company of Becky Butler, and what immediately followed was something this show does brilliantly: a quick, detailed and empathetic sketch, filling out a lot character motivations in a surprisingly short period of time, and even managing a few grace notes along the way.
Spending some more time with Becky now connects a few plot points, sure, but getting closer to the killer, even as we race towards her being exposed as such, also does a lot to ground her actions, including the deadly ones, in believable, engaging psychology. It certainly inclines the show closer to a kind of understanding if not exactly sympathy. This humanity is Only Murders’ super power.
At this point in the story, our heroic trio feel completely sure that Cinda Canning is the culprit – just like I was, last year – but new information changes their mind entirely. There’s a weird, funny wrinkle in the reveal, and the clue that plays loudest and clearest on screen isn’t really the conclusive one.
So while Detective Williams’ has some solid data in the form of Becky Butler’s saliva (what?!?!) on the murder weapon, and she has chosen to just nakedly, brazenly share this info with Mabel, the big reveal of what Savage Fourteen means lands with more of a splash because, honestly, we’ve been waiting for ten episodes to learn what those words could actually be referring to.
The answer is funny, silly, disappointing, absurd, entertaining and frustrating all at once. It turns out that Bunny was saying ‘Sandwich’ not ‘Savage’, choosing to give an inexplicably cryptic hint to her killer’s identity. Presumably, Bunny didn’t know Becky-Poppy by either of her names and the best she could do in her final moments was start planning a crossword.
It’s an unsatisfying clue and reveal because it’s not honestly guessable. Even more frustrating is that the annoyance levels could have been easily ameliorated with just a little extra work. How about a couple of previous scenes in the Pickle Diner in which sandwiches are ordered by number, with a little joke to disguise the clue but also make it memorable?
The leap from ‘Savage’ to ‘Sandwich’ is ridiculous enough but that we can only link Poppy-Becky to a particular sandwich choice in the final moments before the big reveal just renders the whole clue useless to anything like ‘fair play’ mystery solving. Why bother having clues at all if there’s no way to decode them?
It’s not a good situation, I won’t lie, but the silver lining in Only Murders comes because the clue-clue-reveal structure plays like a ‘rule of three’ joke. We’re shown Bunny saying Savage Fourteen, we’re reminded of it… and then it’s finally revealed to be a reference to a frankly insane and disgusting sandwich. The ideal is obviously clues that work in their own right as well as being gonzo jokes, but this is certainly better than nothing, even if mystery buffs are well within their rights to be outraged.
Going back over the two series of Only Murders so far, there are lots of jokes that, in the moment, played like clues. Now, lots of those beats feel like loose ends, and this isn’t fun at all. These are the rogue pieces in the jigsaw box. They might delight us when they’re revealed, but theythen needlessly get in the way until it’s obvious they don’t actually belong.
It’s not that Amy Schumer shouldn’t have appeared, or that Nina Lin shouldn’t have been interested in renovating the Arconia with an ostentatious roof-top structure, it’s that those plots have been left flapping in the wind. Those jigsaw pieces needed somewhere to go in the picture, if only on the margin, because red herrings become irritants when they don’t slot in somewhere. And here’s something a murder mystery show can do more easily than any jigsaw puzzle: a piece can feel perfectly home and snugly in place in one picture, only to be later revealed as piece of yet another puzzle. Paying off Amy Schumer or Nina’s expansion now doesn’t mean they can’t come back later.
It’s innate to murder mysteries that plot threads which haven’t gone anywhere linger in the spotlight, drawing attention. This is because the murder mystery audience wants to sift through everything unexplained and try to make sense of it. Any of those rogue pieces could be the centrepiece of a key part of the puzzle. I do wish that Only Murders in the Building, which is one of my very favourite shows in one of my very favourite genres, succeeded better in its genre, and not pretty much in spite of it.
There’s a lot to be said for taking the foundations of cozy mystery and building a splendidly funny, character-rich, and thoughtful comedy drama on top, but rotten foundations can leave an entire structure looking like it’s on the verge of falling down. Having said that, the opposite – solid mystery foundations under tons of badly-wrought scenes – would have been nothing but a painful dredge, and I doubt I’d actually be able to watch a show like that.
All in, I’d say Only Murders season two was even better than the first, with a pay-off that worked a good bit more than it didn’t. Becky Butler’s motive not only makes a lot more sense than Jan’s, the concept of Poppy’s secret identity was a genuinely great one, even if it was very badly clued – and not really clued at all until far too late in the story. Still, I can imagine that this series’ entire mystery plot could have grown out of that single potent, surprising and resonant idea.
The other idea that producing a podcast motivated the murder landed a little more softly, but it’s in there – and is a logical, terrible extension of the show’s interest in true crime podcasts, their impact, real meanings and repercussions. A line or two might have sharpened this up a little – there was certainly space for some kind of reflection on this element between all of the celebratory glad-handing with Cinda Canning.
There was a lot going on this year, and most of it was fantastic, with episodes succeeding superbly on their own, step-by-step terms. The portrayal of Kreps was striking and quietly satirical, Lucy and Mabel’s relationship expanded the show’s territory in welcome ways, and the plot regarding Will’s parentage was sincerely poignant, funny, suspenseful and brilliantly played. This year has bought us Shirley MacLaine in close-up, delicate scenes with Steve Martin, Martin Short holding court in a recreated 1970s party (or two!) and Selena Gomez going heart-to-heart with James Caverly and toe-to-toe with Michael Rapaport. The pleasures have been vast and many. Week in, week out, Only Murders delighted me, thrilled me, made me laugh and made me care even more about the characters than I did before.
But, just for one comparison, this year’s Magpie Murders revealed a series of clues early, obviously and fairly, and still managed to surprise in how those pieces fit together. There’s no reason Only Murders couldn’t have done just the same. I’m delighted it’s going to get another chance with season three. Bring it on!
So what happens now? Well, I’m speculating but….
Reinvention! New horizons! Pushing limits! The title Only Murders in the Building boldly promises exactly where its fatalities will take place, but as we see in the final scenes of season two, there now appears to have been a murder in a Broadway theatre.
I can already feel the buzz of a meta-commentary formulating. A series needs to evolve to survive – and so do people, perhaps? Maybe next year’s episodes might have fun with the idea that we’re not only outside of the building but that Ben’s death was not the result murder, ripping apart the ‘Murders’ part as well as the ‘In The Building’ part of the title.
In just a couple of quick scenes, the introduction to apparent murder victim Ben Glenroy delivers a lot of possible clues: Glenroy doesn’t seem particularly used to theatre life, or at least thespian suspicions; he’s in a bitter row with Charles, who warns Ben to ‘stay away from her’, whoever she is; and he seems to die of respiratory failure. Was he poisoned? Might he even have been poisoned by the fog machines, in plain sight?
Only Murders in the Building is scheduled to shoot again in the new year and, all being well, we’ll be enjoying it on our screens in twelve months or so. Hurry back, #Olimabel, we’ll miss you.
Just a few final notes from my sleuthing notepad-
- The Butler did it! A trope that Only Murders makes something out of, for once. See novelist SS Van Dine’s 11th commandment of mystery stories: A servant must not be chosen by the author as the culprit. This is begging a noble question. It is a too easy solution. The culprit must be a decidedly worth-while person — one that wouldn’t ordinarily come under suspicion.
- The slow motion bit was just fantastic – the sort of thing Steve Martin does better than anybody else. That’s two finales in two years that gave him some stand-out physical comedy.
- The secret lifts and passageways didn’t really matter, did they? Also, how did Poppy-Becky know about them?
- This show’s cake game is strong. The finale’s door cake was blink-and-you’ll-miss-it but it’s also worth going back to look at the celebration cake in the forecourt for its amusing smoking gun. I wouldn’t have been able to resist getting some clue mileage out of that prop, personally, but it’s still funny.
- Turns out all of the elements of Bunny’s murder were parts of the same, ill-thought out scheme to frame the Arconia Three. Because, somehow, the police would concoct a cogent theory involving the painting being stolen and Bunny being stabbed with a knitting needle and a knife? She was putting a lot of trust in Kreps being able to influence the overall investigation and justice process.
- The first episode seemed to be telling us Charles was our protagonist again but, as things went on, it seemed like Mabel was the centre of our story. Ultimately… mostly, yes, she was, just in a slightly soft-focus way. Does this mean we’re in for an Oliver-focused season next year?
- Paul Rudd fits brilliantly into this world. Exactly like Frank Oz would. Just saying.
- Howard’s not sitting with his hyena in the audience of the play. This, I’m hoping, is because Jonathan is actually in the play.
- Somebody somewhere did Oscar dirty.
Thanks to John Hoffman and his team, the wonderful cast and fantastic crew.
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