🔗 Share this article

You've likely seen Psycho, the iconic thriller, and the horror staple. Perhaps you've also explored the books that inspired the first two films. Now prepare to meet the man who inspired Norman Bates, the serial killer, and Leatherface. The one and only 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. Although he doesn't possess the household name status of Dahmer, Bundy, or Gacy, and his confirmed victims number just two, his postmortem violations and macabre artistry with female corpses have left a lasting mark. To this day, any film or show featuring mutilated bodies, removed epidermis, or items crafted from human tissue probably owes a debt to his actions from many decades past.

A Dismissive Approach

Do I sound flippant? It's clearly the deliberate approach of the production team. Rarely have I seen a drama that lingers so gleefully on the most heinous acts a person – and humanity – can commit. This extends to a significant plotline devoted to the horrors of the Third Reich, presented with minimal moral context.

Structural and Stylistic Strengths

In terms of construction and style, the show is impressive. The rhythm is well-maintained, and the clever interweaving of past and present is handled masterfully. Viewers witness Charlie Hunnam as Gein committing his crimes – the homicides, grave robberies, and assembling his collection. Simultaneously, the contemporary storyline follows Alfred Hitchcock, Robert Bloch, and Anthony Perkins as they develop Psycho from Bloch's Gein-inspired novel. The integration of factual elements – Gein's religious mother and his obsession with women resembling her – and the unreal – fetishistic depictions of Ilse Koch and Nazi party scenes – is handled with technical skill.

A Critical Shortcoming

The missing element, in a truly unacceptable way, is ethical commentary or deeper insight to offset the lingering, loving shots of his immoral deeds. The series portrays his rich inner world and positions him as a helpless individual of his domineering mother and a morbidly fascinated girlfriend. The implied message seems to be: How could a mentally ill man resist? During a key moment, the novelist theorizes that without exposure to photographs, Gein would have remained an unremarkable local.

A Departure from Precedent

One might contend that a show from this stable – known for sleek, exaggerated aesthetics – is the wrong place for deep psychological exploration. But previous works like The People v OJ Simpson offered brilliant commentary on the press and the legal system. The Versace murder story delved into fame and culture. Impeachment scrutinized embedded misogyny. So it can be done, 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 individual responsible without providing understanding into how he became a monster. Aside from the reductive "devout parent" explanation, there is little effort to understand the creation or prevent future cases. It is nothing but voyeuristic pandering to the lowest curiosities of the audience. The Nazi scenes do have lovely lighting, though.