[Editor’s note: The following contains spoilers for Monster: The Ed Gein Story.]
“Who is this for?” can be an essential question as a critic. Every piece of media has its audience and art, in this case film and television, is hard. When we come up short on the answer to that question, it typically means that we’ve failed to explore the piece in a meaningful enough way. But, in the case of Monster: The Ed Gein Story, I’m comfortable placing the burden of fault squarely on the shoulders of Ryan Murphy and his partner Ian Brennan.
Some might think that they’re unfamiliar with Gein’s story, but what’s far more likely is that you’re aware of his saga, you just didn’t know that it was his. Psycho’s Norman Bates is famously based on Gein, with other major pop culture films pulling from his history — but far more loosely — as well. What’s discussed far less often is the true story of a mentally ill man with an abusive and then devastating relationship with his mother. Unfortunately, if you were hoping that the true story would be told here, you will be sorely disappointed.
On paper, Monster: The Ed Gein Story focuses on two key narrative questions: What is the basis of monstrosity (and whether or not we can truly classify Gein as such), and what our actions can inspire. In execution, the series is high on its own farts. Which is fitting, because The Ed Gein Story has all of the impact of a wet one.
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Broadly speaking, Ed Gein — the third installment in Murphy and Brennan’s Netflix anthology series — is made well enough from a technical perspective. No one’s questioning whether or not the creators have the eye. It’s admirably shot, and the gore looks solid enough. However, we all need to collectively agree that we won’t accept anything less than simply casting fat actors, because the prosthetics on Tom Hollander’s face (he’s playing Alfred Hitchcock here) look absurd.
Meanwhile, Charlie Hunnam, an actor we all know to be talented, slaps on an accent that can only be described as a chore. Hunnam has been on record stating that he took the accent straight from an unheard tape of Gein’s own voice. But, given that authenticity was hardly a concern in any other aspect of the show, there’s certainly no justification for them to find themselves beholden to it here. Any chance the series has to be compelling — which, let’s be perfectly clear, is very small — is ripped away with the accent, coupled by the “golly gee” portrayal of the killer.
For all that Gein inspired, the series seems to have very little interest in engaging with the man himself. When it does, it’s a fetishized, fantastical caricature. There’s a real conversation about mental health desperate to come out from underneath all of that, but Monster showcases early on that it simply doesn’t have the chops to do so. Instead, it’s much more focused on playing with the Nazism that’s said to have inspired Gein, and with the art that the killer himself inspired, especially classic works like Psycho, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and The Silence of the Lambs. The latter two are harmless enough in their depictions, but the series’ depiction of the late Anthony Perkins’ sexuality is straight-up irresponsible.
Much of Monster: The Ed Gein Story’s relationship with sexuality is irresponsible, in fact. Gein, who in reality never changed his story about not having sex with corpses (they were too rancid), has multiple outings with the corpse of a woman that his love interest, the mostly fictional Adeline Watkins (Suzanna Son), despised. The very same Adeline is murdered in a vision earlier in the series, solely because Murphy and Brennan decided they wanted to recreate the classic Psycho shower scene more graphically.
As for this series’ relationship with mothers and women as a whole? Yikes. Of course a story centering on Gein is going to have some mommy issues, but the problem extends far beyond Gein’s own relationship. Adeline’s mother hates her for not being the picture of womanhood, and Bernice Worden (Lesley Manville, playing one of Gein’s real victims) is portrayed as the town slut who’s all but forgotten her son, the sheriff’s deputy. Then, later, when we meet the infamous Jerry Brudos (uncredited) the series makes sure to outline that he, too, went “crazy” because of mommy dearest (Brudos was not found to be insane).
The series’ other notable female characters are the Nazi war criminal Isla Koch (Vicky Krieps) and the legendary Christine Jorgensen (Alanna Darby). Jorgensen is the only decent one among them, and even she’s portrayed as rude after belittling a bellman.
Hunnam outlined the intention of the show to TUDUM by asking “Who was the monster? This poor boy who was abused his whole life then left in total isolation, suffering from undiagnosed mental illness? Or the legion of people who sensationalized his life for entertainment and arguably darkened the American psyche and the global psyche in the process?”
The second the series conflates Gein with the likes of Brudos and other serial killers, the validity of that question goes out the window. Especially when it comes to the intentional highlighting of Brudos’ own issues with his mother.
In case you’re wondering, that “conflating with other serial killers” is not subtext. In fact, the season finale kicks off with the introduction of Ted Bundy (John T. O’Brien) before moving on to Brudos and then Richard Speck (uncredited). It eventually tries to detach Gein from the rest of the infamous men by throwing in some absolute absurdity about his involvement with Bundy’s arrest, but even that goes out the window after an ill-advised dance number.
Yes, you read that correctly. When Gein is reaching the end of his life, but before he is terminally diagnosed with lung cancer, there is this weird, dance-y receiving line of serial killers big and small celebrating Gein and his contributions to… serial killer culture?
“Ill-advised” is, in fact, the best way to describe the entirety of Monster: The Ed Gein Story. In a spectacular lack of self-reflection, the finale features a nurse caring for Gein delivering the heartfelt line “There’s so many people who have taken your story.” Reader, I literally looked off into the middle distance of my living room, as if there were cameras from The Office waiting for my reaction.
It’s true: There are so many people who have morphed Ed Gein’s tragic tale of abuse, murder, and mental illness into fetishized bullshit. Murphy and Brennan seem to have joined that list with their heads held high, ending their series with a gushing vision of Gein’s mother (Laurie Metcalf) telling her son, “You sure did make something of yourself, didn’t ya? You changed the whole world.”
Laurie Metcalf is innocent, delivering a delightfully unhinged performance as Augusta Gein. As for the rest of it? Phew.
Monster: The Ed Gein Story is streaming now on Netflix. Check out the trailer below.