Ryan Murphy, the creator of Scream Queens, Glee, and American Horror Story, has made a career out of the art of sensationalist storytelling. His signature, expressed through the encore of a high school musical group or sorority sisters killing each other for a spot on the team, is extreme dramatics. In his latest series Monsters, he takes shock value false realities to a new level.
Here’s the thing about true-crime series and movies: they’re nothing new. We were all enthralled by the Gypsy Rose Blanchard story, the multiple O.J. Simpson movies and series, and even The Case of: Jonbenét Ramsey. Our culture has a peculiar fixation on killers. We want to know why and who they killed, and understand the mindset that led up to the moment they pulled the trigger. But Monsters doesn’t give us that feeling. Instead, it glamorizes the killers and tricks audiences into lusting for them.
Murphy’s series on Jeffrey Dahmer series was praised for its production and Evan Peters’ performance as Jefferey Dahmer. His portrayal of the character made watchers sick but also sympathetic. There, Dahmer was transformed into a misunderstood victim. This is a very dangerous narrative that romanticizes his horrific crimes. Dahmer killed 17 boys and girls. He unleashed an unfathomable amount of terror and trauma on the victims and their families. And yet, somehow, many young adults in America dressed as Dahmer the following Halloween.
I’m all for telling stories so we can be informed and I’m even willing to admit that sometimes I give in and watch the madness. However, there’s a difference between creating nuanced portrayals of evil and fetishizing it. Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story does not balance this tightrope.
Of course, the Menendez Brothers case isn’t as black and white. Lyle and Erik’s defense claimed that their actions were a result of years of emotional and sexual abuse at the hands of their parents, mainly their father.
The brothers claimed they acted out of fear, believing their lives were in imminent danger. These claims polarized the nation—some believed the abuse justified their actions, others saw it as a convenient excuse for two greedy young men from an affluent family.
Murphy thrives by exploiting their trauma and making it muddy. It’s like when a high schooler laminates a bad paper to make its presentation more digestible. Murphy does this by casting attractive actors and fabricating an incestuous relationship between the brothers as if it’s relevant to the plot of the crime.
This is where it becomes problematic. Now we have watered-down true crime into sexually charged anti-heroes.
In an official statement, the Menendez Family described Murphy’s depiction of the brothers as, “a phobic, gross, anachronistic, serial episodic nightmare. Perhaps, after all, Monsters is all about Ryan Murphy.”
In response, Murphy stated, “I feel like that’s faux outrage. Because if you look at what we do, we give those boys so much airtime to talk about what they claim as their physical abuse.” Clearly, he doesn’t care about ridicule or protecting the integrity of the story.
Murphy’s take might be “binge-worthy” to the masses, but it does cross an ethical line when telling true crime. Monsters repackage murder with sexual innuendos. Insight into the crime is lost and Murphy has rebranded this story into Gen Z true-fiction.
