True crime’s gore isn’t just on screen—its audiences are complicit too
In this true crime series, the actual murders shock less than the fictionalized horror.
On Oct. 3, Netflix released all eight episodes of Monster: The Ed Gein Story. The third season of producer Ryan Murphy’s true crime series explores the story of American serial killer Edward Theodore Gein, nicknamed “The Butcher of Plainfield.” The show faces criticism for including gratuitous, fictional violence on top of the already horrifying truth. In a world so desensitized, a serial killer’s story alone isn’t enough to make interesting television. Despite gruesome content, viewers are tuning in.
Within three days of its debut, Monster racked up over 12 million views. Its popularity followed two successful seasons, focusing on the “Milwaukee Monster” Jeffrey Dahmer and the Menendez brothers, respectively. Both seasons were criticized for casting conventionally attractive actors to portray criminals, a trend Monster continues with Gein’s story. Fans have already jumped to social media, creating edits of Charlie Hunnam, who took on the role.
But this season takes eye-catching gimmicks a step further by attempting to humanize Gein through its plot. In real life, Gein is suspected of murdering at least two women, exhuming their graves and defiling their corpses.
In Monster, Gein is portrayed as a small-town weirdo so traumatized by his abusive mother that he uses bodies as experiments to explore humanity. The show presents Gein as a “poor kid turned bad,” downplaying the heinous reality of his crimes. Monster goes so far as to present a completely fictional ending where Gein helps investigators catch serial killer Ted Bundy.
The show embellishes Gein’s story with additional murders used as plot devices. It suggests Gein was responsible for his brother’s death and that he exposed children to his crimes, neither of which are true. Gein’s also given two romantic interests in Monster, one of whom he slays. The real-life victims of Gein are disrespected, reduced to names in a narrative, with no recognition of their lives or stories—especially since they had no personal connection to him, making their portrayal in media both exploitative and misleading.
These details create sympathy for Gein’s character while adding to the severity of his crimes, raising questions about how audiences consume true crime shows. A cultural obsession with serial killers reveals a love of violence that some say has gone too far. It’s morally questionable how much must be added to an already terrifying story to get true crime to succeed as a show.
At its core, Monster critiques viewers’ desensitization. In a moment where Ed seemingly breaks the fourth wall and addresses the audience, saying, “You’re the one who can’t look away,” Monster seems to ask who the real abomination is.
Whether fault lies with viewers who consume series after series of true crime without batting an eye, or producers who feed into this culture and exploit it, the same fact remains: an appetite for fantastical violence blurring the lines between truth and fiction—obscuring victims’ real suffering.
