Monster: The Ed Gein Story – An In-Depth Look of the Producer's Grim Murder Show

You're probably familiar with the Hitchcock classic, the iconic thriller, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Maybe you've even read the books that served as the basis for the first two films. Now it's time to meet the man behind the Bates Motel owner, the serial killer, and the chainsaw-wielding villain. The infamous Ed Gein!

The initial installments of this anthology series centered around Jeffrey Dahmer – a name with widespread notoriety. This was followed by the Menendez brothers – a somewhat specialized story for enthusiasts of the genre. 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 grave desecrations and gruesome creativity with the deceased have left a lasting mark. Even now, any media featuring dismembered remains, removed epidermis, or skin-based artifacts likely draws inspiration to his actions from over 70 years ago.

A Dismissive Approach

Do I sound flippant? It's clearly the intended style of the creators. It's uncommon to witness a television series that dwells so eagerly on the most heinous acts a person – and mankind – can commit. This extends to a significant plotline devoted to the horrors of the Third Reich, shown with minimal moral context.

Structural and Stylistic Strengths

In terms of construction and style, the show is impressive. The rhythm is well-maintained, and the clever interweaving of past and present is executed brilliantly. We see the actor as Gein committing his crimes – the murders, tomb violations, and curating his gruesome trophies. In parallel, the present-day narrative follows Alfred Hitchcock, Robert Bloch, and Anthony Perkins as they craft the iconic film from the literary source. The blending of factual elements – his devout parent and his fixation with female doppelgangers – and the unreal – lurid portrayals of the Buchenwald criminal and Nazi party scenes – is handled with technical skill.

The Glaring Omission

The missing element, and unforgivably so, is ethical commentary or meaningful analysis to counterbalance the protracted, admiring visuals of Gein's depraved acts. The series portrays his vibrant fantasy life and positions him as a man at the mercy of his controlling parent and an accomplice with dark interests. The implied message seems to be: What is a poor, schizophrenic guy to do? During a key moment, Robert Bloch speculates that without exposure to photographs, Gein would have remained an unremarkable local.

Breaking from Past Success

One might contend that a show from this stable – known for sleek, exaggerated aesthetics – is an unlikely source for profound human insight. But previous works like the OJ Simpson trial drama offered sharp analysis on media and justice. The Versace murder story delved into fame and culture. Impeachment examined systemic sexism. So it can be done, and Murphy has done it.

The Final Verdict

But not here. This installment feels like an exploitation of an underexploited true crime story. It asks for empathy for the individual responsible without providing understanding into his transformation. Aside from the reductive "devout parent" reasoning, there is no attempt to comprehend the origins or avert similar tragedies. It is nothing but voyeuristic pandering to the lowest curiosities of viewers. The wartime sequences do have lovely lighting, though.