🔗 Share this article

You've likely seen Psycho, The Silence of the Lambs, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Maybe you've even read the original novels that inspired the first two films. Now prepare to meet the man behind Norman Bates, Buffalo Bill, and Leatherface. The infamous Ed Gein!

The initial installments of the series in question centered around Jeffrey Dahmer – an individual possessing strong recognition. Then came the sibling duo – a somewhat specialized case for enthusiasts of the genre. Now the spotlight turns to the Butcher of Plainfield. While he may lack the household name status of Dahmer, Bundy, or Gacy, and only killed two people, his grave desecrations and macabre artistry with the deceased have left a lasting mark. Even now, any film or show featuring mutilated bodies, removed epidermis, or skin-based artifacts likely draws inspiration to Gein's exploits from many decades past.

A Dismissive Approach

Do I sound flippant? This appears to be the deliberate approach of the production team. It's uncommon to witness a television series that lingers so gleefully on the most heinous acts a person – and mankind – can commit. This includes a substantial narrative strand devoted to the horrors of the Third Reich, presented with little to no justification.

Effective Pacing and Narrative

In terms of construction and style, the show is impressive. The pacing is flawless, and the skillful blending of different timelines is executed brilliantly. We see Charlie Hunnam as the killer in action – the homicides, grave robberies, and curating his gruesome trophies. Simultaneously, the present-day narrative follows the creative minds as they develop Psycho from the literary source. The integration of the real – his devout parent and his obsession with women resembling her – and the unreal – fetishistic depictions of Ilse Koch and SS officer gatherings – is handled with technical skill.

A Critical Shortcoming

What it lacks, and unforgivably so, is any moral dimension or meaningful analysis to offset the protracted, admiring visuals of his immoral deeds. The show presents his rich inner world and frames him as a man at the mercy of his controlling parent and a morbidly fascinated girlfriend. The implied message seems to be: How could a mentally ill man resist? During a key moment, Robert Bloch theorizes that without seeing certain images, Gein would have remained an unremarkable local.

Breaking from Past Success

One might contend that a Ryan Murphy production – renowned for sleek, exaggerated aesthetics – is an unlikely source for profound human insight. However, earlier series like the OJ Simpson trial drama offered brilliant commentary on media and justice. The Versace murder story delved into celebrity and society. Impeachment examined systemic sexism. So it can be done, and Murphy has done it.

The Ultimate Assessment

Yet not in this case. This installment feels like an exploitation of a lesser-known criminal case. It demands sympathy for the individual responsible without providing understanding into his transformation. Aside from the reductive "religious mother" explanation, there is no attempt to understand the creation or avert similar tragedies. This is merely gratuitous spectacle to the basest instincts of the audience. The Nazi scenes do have excellent cinematography, though.