Monster: The Ed Gein Story – An In-Depth Look of the Producer's Grim Murder Show
You're probably familiar with Psycho, The Silence of the Lambs, and the horror staple. Maybe you've even read the original novels that inspired the first two films. Now prepare to encounter the individual who inspired Norman Bates, Buffalo Bill, and Leatherface. The infamous Ed Gein!
The first two seasons of this anthology series centered around Jeffrey Dahmer – a name with widespread notoriety. This was followed by the Menendez brothers – a somewhat specialized case for dedicated true crime fans. Now the spotlight turns to the Butcher of Plainfield. While he may lack the brand recognition of other notorious killers, and his confirmed victims number just two, his grave desecrations and gruesome creativity with the deceased have left a lasting mark. To this day, any film or show featuring dismembered remains, flayed skin, or items crafted from human tissue likely draws inspiration to Gein's exploits from many decades past.
A Dismissive Approach
Is my tone too casual? This appears to be the deliberate approach of the production team. Rarely have I seen a television series that dwells so eagerly on the worst depredations a person – and humanity – can commit. This extends to a substantial narrative strand devoted to Nazi atrocities, shown with minimal moral context.
Effective Pacing and Narrative
In terms of construction and style, the series excels. The rhythm is well-maintained, and the skillful blending of different timelines is executed brilliantly. Viewers witness Charlie Hunnam as Gein committing his crimes – the murders, grave robberies, and curating his gruesome trophies. Simultaneously, the present-day narrative follows Alfred Hitchcock, Robert Bloch, and Anthony Perkins as they develop Psycho from Bloch's Gein-inspired novel. The blending of factual elements – Gein's religious mother and his obsession with women resembling her – and the unreal – lurid portrayals of the Buchenwald criminal and Nazi party scenes – is executed proficiently.
A Critical Shortcoming
What it lacks, and unforgivably so, is any moral dimension or meaningful analysis to offset the lingering, loving shots of Gein's depraved acts. The show presents his rich inner world and positions him as a helpless individual of his controlling parent and an accomplice with dark interests. The underlying suggestion seems to be: How could a mentally ill man resist? During a key moment, the novelist theorizes that without seeing certain images, Gein would have remained a small-town simpleton.
A Departure from Precedent
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 People v OJ Simpson offered brilliant commentary on media and justice. The Versace murder story explored celebrity and society. Impeachment examined systemic sexism. Thus, it is possible, and the producer has succeeded before.
The Final Verdict
Yet not in this case. This installment feels like a commercialization of an underexploited true crime story. It demands sympathy for the man behind the masks without providing understanding into how he became a monster. Aside from the reductive "devout parent" reasoning, there is no attempt to understand the creation or avert similar tragedies. It is nothing but gratuitous spectacle to the lowest curiosities of the audience. The Nazi scenes do have excellent cinematography, though.