Imagine diving into the chilling world of real-life horrors, only to emerge questioning not just the monsters on screen, but the ones in the mirror—and maybe even the ones behind the camera. That's the provocative heart of the latest season of Netflix's anthology series, Monster: The Ed Gein Story, where the cast and creators are boldly defending their approach amid swirling debates about how true crime tales are told. But here's where it gets controversial: Are these shows glorifying evil, or are they essential mirrors for society to confront its darkest sides? Let's unpack this gripping discussion, exploring the show's intentions, the real-life inspirations, and the ethical dilemmas that keep viewers—and critics—up at night.
Following backlash over what some saw as overly dramatic depictions of murder victims in previous seasons like Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story and Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menéndez Story, the team behind the third installment, Monster: The Ed Gein Story, is eager to ignite meaningful dialogue. Charlie Hunnam, who portrays the infamous title character Ed Gein, chatted with The Hollywood Reporter just before the show's Friday premiere, sharing a heartfelt plea to potential viewers. 'If this sparks conversations and deep thinking, then ideally, it'll draw people in to experience the series firsthand,' he explained. 'I'm genuinely optimistic that we've crafted a genuine examination of human nature and the factors that drove this young man to such extreme actions.'
This Netflix horror anthology traces Ed Gein's reclusive existence in rural Wisconsin, beginning after the tragic deaths of his brother Henry, played by Hudson Oz, and his domineering mother Augusta, portrayed by Laurie Metcalf. Gein, a notorious 1950s serial killer, was infamous for murdering women, fashioning clothing from their skin, and even exhuming graves. The series doesn't shy away from graphic elements, including a scene where Ed derives pleasure from wearing women's lingerie. For beginners unfamiliar with true crime, think of it as a stark reminder of how untreated mental struggles can spiral into unimaginable atrocities—much like how Gein's story influenced iconic films such as Psycho, The Silence of the Lambs, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, shaping horror cinema for generations.
Hunnam staunchly defended the production, insisting, 'I never sensed we were exaggerating for effect or indulging in unnecessary shocks. On set, everything felt purposeful, aimed at delivering the narrative with utmost authenticity.' Co-creator and writer-director Ian Brennan, who collaborated with Ryan Murphy on the entire season, echoed this sentiment. 'Our goal was to avoid exploitation at all costs,' he noted. 'In fact, we wanted to demonstrate that toning down a gruesome tale can be just as problematic. You have to include the uncomfortable bits to convey the full truth, even if they're tough to stomach.'
Brennan went on to praise the season's depth: 'Far from being merely shocking, it's brilliantly crafted—a profound exploration of a bizarre yet pivotal figure from the 20th century. Picture this: a solitary, troubled individual in the isolation of Wisconsin's countryside, whose actions left an indelible mark on culture.' And this is the part most people miss: The narrative zeroes in on Ed's severe mental health issues, particularly his undiagnosed schizophrenia, which tormented him relentlessly.
In episode seven, Ed finally gets a proper diagnosis and begins treatment, highlighting the era's lack of mental health support. Suzanna Son, who plays Ed's romantic interest Adeline Watkins, shared her complex emotions with THR. 'It infuriates me how society failed him, with no proper mental health facilities or awareness of conditions like schizophrenia back then,' she said. 'Yet, I can't find sympathy for Eddie. It's a tangled web, reminding us that we all harbor potential darkness if our needs go unmet.' Brennan elaborated, 'At its essence, this is a tale of mental illness. We felt compelled to depict the agony of his internal world—his mind's inescapable cage—as vividly as the external horrors. Ed Gein possessed a unique brain, unable to compartmentalize or dismiss haunting images. His obsessions began with the Holocaust's atrocities, brilliantly illustrated through Vicky Krieps' character, capturing the mundane evil of Nazi camps. He simply couldn't erase those visions from his thoughts.'
For those new to this, schizophrenia is a serious mental disorder that can distort reality, leading to hallucinations, delusions, and disorganized thinking—often exacerbated by isolation and trauma, as seen in Gein's backstory. The first episode introduces Adeline sharing a comic book filled with Holocaust horrors, leading to visions of Ilse Koch, a Nazi figure embodied by Krieps. The actress opened up about the emotional toll: 'I initially told Ryan I couldn't take this on, despite loving the project—I'm European, and my grandfather survived a concentration camp. Portraying a Nazi felt insurmountable; I feared I'd crumble on set, and I did once, unable to step out of my trailer. But the supportive team helped me push through, turning it into a powerful storytelling moment.'
Each season of Monster tackles a distinct true crime saga while posing the same haunting question: Who is the true monster? This installment features a meta moment where Ed addresses the audience directly: 'You're the one who can't turn away.' Hunnam hopes viewers will ponder, 'Is the monster Ed Gein, shaped by abuse, loneliness, and untreated schizophrenia that erupted in horrific deeds? Or is it the filmmakers who drew from his life to create thrilling entertainment, warping the national consciousness? Could Hitchcock be the villain here, or even us, the audience, for tuning in?'
Brennan clarified the intent behind that scene: 'This season confronts head-on what happens when we witness atrocities. It's our way of reflecting on ourselves, acknowledging that we're presenting content some might argue shouldn't be viewed... Think of how Psycho escalated horror, followed by The Texas Chainsaw Massacre pushing boundaries further—it's a cycle of outdoing scares. We aimed to challenge: Should we really be consuming this?'
Monster: The Ed Gein Story is available now on Netflix, ready to provoke and unsettle. But here's the real controversy: Does depicting these horrors responsibly educate and warn, or does it risk desensitizing us to real suffering? What do you think—is true crime media a necessary evil for understanding humanity's flaws, or a dangerous glorification that blurs lines between victim and voyeur? Share your thoughts in the comments: Do you agree with the show's creators that full disclosure is key, or do you believe some stories are too dark to dramatize? Let's discuss!
