Ian Brennan and Ryan Murphy's Monster series on Netflix is a curious beast. It summons real-life serial killers from the pages of history and lends them a veneer of humanity. Sure, Jeffrey Dahmer, the Menendez brothers, and, now, Ed Gein committed acts of atrocity, but they aren't entirely guilty. Blame the toxic environment, bad parents, strict upbringing — elements that influenced and drove these people to madness, to perversity. Ed Gein's (Charlie Hunnam) head is messed up; there is something definitely wrong with him. His mental imbalance is reflected in his asymmetrical eyes. His right eye is small, which makes his left eye appear larger. John resembles one of those cartoon villains who wear a single magnifying lens that exaggerates the size of one eye. And yet, Hunnam's Ed mostly seems like an innocent, unloved child. All he wants is the embrace, the approval of her mommy, but mommy has little affection for her babies. As Augusta Gein, Laurie Metcalf has all the attitude of a strict principal who always seems ready to whip the kids. "Only a mother could love you," she says to Ed, not as a form of affection, but as a reminder — a reminder that she is doing Ed a big favor by living with him. Monster: The Ed Gein Story suggests that Ed Gein wouldn't have turned into a notorious serial killer if Augusta could have actually loved him. So, you know, this is just your usual murderer born from the darkness of a loveless life.
But why is Augusta like this? She tells Ed that she wanted a girl child. She also tells him to not touch women, to stay away from the Jezebels who lead men towards the path of sin. In one brief flashback, Augusta's husband hits her, and she hits back at him. Even here, she instructs Ed to never touch women. So, did this advice initially stem from Augusta's experience of domestic violence? If yes, then when did it take the form of hatred towards women? If Ed is a mama's boy, his brother is a free spirit. How did the brother manage to escape from Augusta's grip? What drew Ed closer and closer towards it? If Brennan and Murphy had good taste, they would have answered these questions. These creators would have pushed for narrative and emotional depth. Good taste, however, is the last thing the creators prioritize in this new Monster. What they want to dispense is pulpy pleasure. Hence, they resort to sensational devices like sex, hallucinations, and plenty of shocking incidents. Within the first few seconds of Episode 1, we see Ed masturbating while wearing his mother's undergarments. If you are familiar with the actions of the real Ed Gein, then you know what's in the store: a belt made of nipples, chairs made of human skin, and nine vulvas in a box. Yes, these nauseating creations are on display like ugly pieces of art. There is also a female skin jacket that really creeped me out.
For Brennan and Murphy, Ed becomes a lovable freak. The real Ed was a body snatcher, so the Ed we see in the series digs out bodies to fulfill his sexual appetite (it's Adeline, played by Suzanna Son, who pushes Ed into the arms of this depravity). Ed also makes comments like, "You are just so darling, I can eat you," like a man who knows he is playing the character of a serial killer in a web series. It's all very wink-wink. When Ed performs a magic trick using skulls and a finger in front of two kids, you can almost hear the people behind the camera chuckling at the dark humor, at the sunny sickness of the scene. The point seems to be that nobody is taking anything seriously. The show pokes your ribs and tells you to take a chill pill. I mean, wait till you see what this Monster does with figures like Alfred Hitchcock (Tom Hollander) and Anthony Perkins (Joey Pollari). It feels as if you are watching caricatures taking themselves too seriously. But perhaps the biggest stunt the series pulls in the name of a joke is that it creates sex scenes between Bernice Worden and Ed Gein. Worden practically throws herself at Ed; she, at a restaurant, takes out her bra and hands it over to the monster sitting in front of her, who talks to her politely. What's the point of these provocations? That the man telling the story gets to twist events to suit his fancies? And are we supposed to applaud these "fancies" when they read like a loner teen's pervy, violent fantasies?
Monster: The Ed Gein Story is about the power of images — how images can have a tremendous psychological effect on human beings. Ed reads Ilse Koch's comics, sees pictures of Nazi atrocities, and gets inspired to imitate Koch's nasty deeds (Adeline, again, pushes him to pursue this demented, um, hobby). If Ed gets his inspiration from Ilse, then directors like Hitchcock and Tobe Hooper (Will Brill) draw motivation from Ed's boogeyman image and his disturbing crimes to create Psycho and The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, respectively. Hooper, in fact, rants that the world is on fire, that the children are being burned alive, which is why he wants to show the mirror to the people by scaring them with unpleasant realities. However, for a show that aims to explore the power images wield over human beings, its visuals themselves come across as conventional, impotent, and ineffective. Monster wants to provoke, to sensationalize, but it ends up being as annoying as an attention-seeking klutz who defiles everything just for a moment in the spotlight. The show is a come-on for Brennan and Murphy; they invite the audience's boos, disgust, and indignation because, for them, any kind of PR is good PR. The more the show is discussed, the more opportunities and money the creators will have to produce additional seasons of this Monster franchise.
But do the creators really want to make more seasons of this franchise, or are they stuck in the success of their own making? Hitchcock is asked by the studios to make more Psycho films or something along those lines. He gives birth to the sex horror genre, much to his chagrin. Perkins is offered more Norman Bates-like roles; he is asked to consider doing sequels to Psycho. Perkins, obviously, doesn't like being confined to this single genre or label. Is this Brennan and Murphy's way of expressing their own fatigue, their own lack of joy in creating more Monster installments (it should be noted that Murphy, this time, doesn't return as a creator)? Are they being forced to be a part of the upcoming fourth season (it will be based on the life and crimes of Lizzie Borden)? I don't think these notions hold much weight, considering they are delivered in a very tongue-in-cheek way. The Ed Gein Story wants to be impudent — a darkly comic work that teases and pushes the buttons of the audience. Its weirdest moment is definitely that scene where an electric knife becomes a very obvious setup. If I had to capture the spirit of The Ed Gein Story through a scene, I would pick the one where Adeline, in a red dress, laughs at the funeral of an old lady. Respect? Good manners? What are those things?
I suppose this Monster could have still been decent or watchable trash if it had stuck to its cheeky guns instead of taking a 180-degree turn while approaching the finish line. Suddenly, all the "why so serious?" vibes are replaced with "please weep for this lonely, confused psychopath" energy. I don't mind watching or even appreciating stories that delve into gray areas to find traces of humanity in a monster widely regarded as heinous and ghastly. But there should be depth and nuance in such narratives. You cannot expect us to sympathize with a murderer simply because he's been dressed up as a good, tortured, and confused soul, especially when it's just a flashy cinematic stunt (Augusta's firm grip on Ed's body and mind is woven into the paper and stitched onto the screen, like a fact that must not be explained, questioned, or made to seem convincing). There is nothing persuasive about such empty tricks. The creators, for the most part, use Ed's life for cheap thrills and then criticize others for exploiting him (it's during these latter portions that the show becomes sober, sad, and deferential, but you see through the facade and roll your eyes). Who's the real monster? The man who peels the skins of humans, or the man who goes to war and destroys civilizations? The man who has sex with corpses, or the man who cannot accept—and looks down upon—anyone who tries to be free and unconventional? Is Adeline also a monster for encouraging Ed's sick behavior and using him to ask for a job in front of the press, or is the real monster her mother, who confines her daughter within the cage of patriarchy and, when she was pregnant, intentionally threw herself down the stairs to terminate the pregnancy? What the show ultimately says is that everybody is sick; everybody is bad in their own way. I think Brennan and Murphy are self-aware enough to point fingers at themselves. But does all this make The Ed Gein Story any better? No is the only correct answer in this case.
Final Score- [3.5/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times