Monster: Ed Gein's Tale – A Review of the Producer's Dark Crime Drama
You're probably familiar with the Hitchcock classic, The Silence of the Lambs, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Perhaps you've also explored the books that served as the basis for the first two films. Now prepare to meet the man behind Norman Bates, Buffalo Bill, and the chainsaw-wielding villain. The one and only Ed Gein!
The initial installments of this anthology series centered around the Milwaukee monster – an individual possessing strong recognition. This was followed by the sibling duo – a somewhat specialized story for dedicated true crime fans. Now the spotlight turns to the Butcher of Plainfield. While he may lack the household name status of other notorious killers, and only killed two people, his postmortem violations and gruesome creativity with female corpses have left a lasting mark. Even now, any film or show featuring mutilated bodies, removed epidermis, or items crafted from human tissue likely draws inspiration to his actions from many decades past.
A Dismissive Approach
Is my tone too casual? This appears to be the deliberate approach of the creators. It's uncommon to witness a drama that dwells so eagerly on the worst depredations a person – and mankind – can commit. This includes a substantial narrative strand devoted to Nazi atrocities, presented with little to no justification.
Structural and Stylistic Strengths
Structurally and stylistically, the show is impressive. The pacing is flawless, and the skillful blending of different timelines is handled masterfully. Viewers witness Charlie Hunnam as Gein committing his crimes – the murders, tomb violations, and curating his gruesome trophies. In parallel, the contemporary storyline follows the creative minds as they develop Psycho from Bloch's Gein-inspired novel. The blending of factual elements – his devout parent and his fixation with women resembling her – and fictionalized scenes – fetishistic depictions of Ilse Koch and SS officer gatherings – is handled with technical skill.
The Glaring Omission
The missing element, and unforgivably so, is any moral dimension or meaningful analysis 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 controlling parent 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.
A Departure from Precedent
One might contend that a Ryan Murphy production – known for glossy, high-camp style – is the wrong place for deep psychological exploration. However, earlier series like the OJ Simpson trial drama offered brilliant commentary on media and justice. The Versace murder story delved into fame and culture. Impeachment examined embedded misogyny. Thus, it is possible, and the producer has succeeded before.
The Ultimate Assessment
But not here. This installment feels like an exploitation of an underexploited true crime story. It demands sympathy for the individual responsible without offering genuine insight into how he became a monster. Beyond the simplistic "devout parent" explanation, there is little effort to comprehend the origins or prevent future cases. It is nothing but gratuitous spectacle to the lowest curiosities of viewers. The wartime sequences do have lovely lighting, though.