As DCI Gareth Morgan puts it, whereas we usually the context murders “whodunnits,” the peculiar case that happened in the state of South Wales in 2015 could be better characterized as a “who-is-it?” Leigh Ann Sabine, who went away from brain cancer not too long ago, is the main suspect after a horrible, leaking parcel containing a decomposing body packaged in over 40 layers is found in the village of Beddau. She may have committed a crime, but the investigators are having trouble identifying the victim.
When all is said and done, “The Body Next Door” isn’t really about “who-is-it” or even “howdunnit.” As a “how-could-she-do-it?” scenario, it is significantly more fascinating. Sabine is initially introduced to us via her Beddau neighbors. They perceived her as a narcissistic, hallucinogenic woman with an enigmatic past, a stilted accent, and an enduring affection for fishnet stockings despite her advanced age. They remember her warmly despite her eccentricities. But as the show goes on, it gets more difficult to accept their adoration. A deeper mystery lies beneath the layers of this intricate study, presenting us with a man whose acts vary from callous to unfathomably vicious.
When detailing the initial stages of the investigation, “The Body Next Door” does falter a little. Even after seeing the video several times and reading in-depth accounts of the case, I still don’t entirely understand the series of events leading to the discovery of the corpse—one neighbor even tried to pull a practical joke using a medical skeleton. But after that, the show deftly switches between Reading in the 1980s, New Zealand in the 1970s, and Beddau in 2010 while still keeping a solid narrative thread.
The show also gets off to a fairly questionable ethical start. The neighbor who discovered the body is initially arrested by the authorities (which makes sense considering the confusing discovery tale). Even though she was eventually found not guilty at all, the show nevertheless includes a good deal of footage from her police questioning, in which she can be seen to be very upset. As the genre by definition draws enjoyment from sorrow and trauma, no one can honestly argue that any true-crime TV program is not intrinsically exploitative at this point. But a more victim-centered, empathic approach has surfaced lately. “The Body Next Door” probably wants to fit into this category, and after this first slip-up, the show does follow these new guidelines, letting Sabine’s kids tell their stories and offering a contemplative examination of several intriguing themes, like the underlying fear of mother neglect, control pressures, and generational trauma. These themes trouble the mind more like a psychological puzzle than making one feel uncomfortably queasy.
Despite this, “The Body Next Door” is still indisputably gross. A symbol of the vile inhumanity at the center of this story, the vile corpse package recurs on screen as grainy, horror-film-style footage from the autopsy lab. It represents not only Sabine’s dark lies and avoidance of responsibility but also the hatred that lies within her, a darkness that was probably stoked by her own horrifying experiences in the foster system. An issue that remains unanswered throughout the show is whether Sabine would have enjoyed the attention she received. A neighbor confesses toward the end of the show that she used to brag, “After I die, I will be famous.” But no one would want this kind of obituary, no matter how psychopathic.
