Monster: Ed Gein's Tale – An In-Depth Look of the Producer's Dark Murder Show
You've likely seen the Hitchcock classic, The Silence of the Lambs, and the horror staple. Perhaps you've also explored the original novels that inspired the first two films. Now it's time to encounter the individual who inspired Norman Bates, the serial killer, and the chainsaw-wielding villain. The one and only Ed Gein!
The initial installments of the series in question focused on Jeffrey Dahmer – a name with widespread notoriety. This was followed by the sibling duo – a more niche story for dedicated true crime fans. Attention now shifts to the Butcher of Plainfield. While he may lack the brand recognition of Dahmer, Bundy, or Gacy, and only killed two people, his postmortem violations and macabre artistry with female corpses have made a profound impact. Even now, any film or show featuring mutilated bodies, flayed skin, or skin-based artifacts probably owes a debt to Gein's exploits from many decades past.
A Dismissive Approach
Do I sound flippant? It's clearly the deliberate approach of the production team. Rarely have I seen a drama that dwells so eagerly on the worst depredations an individual – and humanity – can commit. This includes a substantial narrative strand devoted to Nazi atrocities, presented with minimal moral context.
Effective Pacing and Narrative
In terms of construction and style, the series excels. The rhythm is well-maintained, and the clever interweaving of past and present is handled masterfully. Viewers witness the actor as the killer in action – the homicides, grave robberies, and curating his gruesome trophies. Simultaneously, the contemporary storyline follows the creative minds as they craft the iconic film from Bloch's Gein-inspired novel. The blending of the real – Gein's religious mother and his fixation with women resembling her – and the unreal – fetishistic depictions of the Buchenwald criminal and Nazi party scenes – is executed proficiently.
A Critical Shortcoming
The missing element, and unforgivably so, is any moral dimension or deeper insight to offset the lingering, loving shots of Gein's depraved acts. The series portrays his vibrant fantasy life and frames him as a helpless individual of his domineering mother and an accomplice with dark interests. The underlying suggestion seems to be: What is a poor, schizophrenic guy to do? In one scene, the novelist speculates that without seeing certain images, Gein would have remained an unremarkable local.
Breaking from Past Success
One might contend that a show from this stable – renowned for sleek, exaggerated aesthetics – is the wrong place for deep psychological exploration. However, earlier series like The People v OJ Simpson offered brilliant commentary on the press and the legal system. The Versace murder story explored fame and culture. The Clinton scandal series scrutinized embedded misogyny. Thus, it is possible, and Murphy has done it.
The Final Verdict
Yet not in this case. This installment feels like an exploitation of an underexploited true crime story. It asks for empathy for the man behind the masks without providing understanding into his transformation. Beyond the simplistic "devout parent" explanation, there is little effort to understand the creation or prevent future cases. It is nothing but voyeuristic pandering to the basest instincts of the audience. The Nazi scenes do have lovely lighting, though.