Monster: Ed Gein's Tale – A Review of the Producer's Dark Murder Show
You're probably familiar with Psycho, the iconic thriller, and the horror staple. Maybe you've even read the original novels that inspired the first two films. Now prepare to meet the man who inspired Norman Bates, Buffalo Bill, and Leatherface. The infamous Ed Gein!
The initial installments of this anthology series focused on the Milwaukee monster – a name with widespread notoriety. This was followed by the Menendez brothers – a more niche story for enthusiasts of the genre. 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 macabre artistry with female corpses have left a lasting mark. Even now, any media featuring mutilated bodies, removed epidermis, or skin-based artifacts likely draws inspiration to his actions from over 70 years ago.
A Tone of Flippancy
Do I sound flippant? This appears to be the deliberate approach of the production team. It's uncommon to witness a drama that lingers so gleefully on the worst depredations a person – and mankind – can commit. This extends to a substantial narrative strand devoted to Nazi atrocities, shown with minimal moral context.
Effective Pacing and Narrative
Structurally and stylistically, the series excels. The pacing is flawless, and the clever interweaving of different timelines is handled masterfully. We see Charlie Hunnam as Gein committing his crimes – the murders, tomb violations, and assembling his collection. In parallel, the present-day narrative follows Alfred Hitchcock, Robert Bloch, and Anthony Perkins as they develop Psycho from the literary source. The blending of factual elements – Gein's religious mother and his fixation with women resembling her – and fictionalized scenes – lurid portrayals of Ilse Koch and Nazi party scenes – is executed proficiently.
The Glaring Omission
What it lacks, in a truly unacceptable way, is ethical commentary or meaningful analysis to offset the protracted, admiring visuals of his immoral deeds. The show presents his vibrant fantasy life and frames him as a man at the mercy of his domineering mother and a morbidly fascinated girlfriend. The implied message seems to be: How could a mentally ill man resist? In one scene, Robert Bloch speculates that without exposure to photographs, Gein would have remained an unremarkable local.
A Departure from Precedent
One might contend that a Ryan Murphy production – 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 media and justice. The Versace murder story delved into celebrity and society. Impeachment scrutinized embedded misogyny. Thus, it is possible, and Murphy has done it.
The Final Verdict
But not here. The Ed Gein Story feels like an exploitation of an underexploited true crime story. It asks for empathy for the individual responsible without offering genuine insight into his transformation. Beyond the simplistic "religious mother" reasoning, there is no attempt to comprehend the origins or prevent future cases. This is merely voyeuristic pandering to the lowest curiosities of the audience. The wartime sequences do have excellent cinematography, admittedly.
