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You're probably familiar with the Hitchcock classic, The Silence of the Lambs, and the horror staple. Perhaps you've also explored the books that inspired the first two films. Now it's time to encounter the individual who inspired the Bates Motel owner, Buffalo Bill, and the chainsaw-wielding villain. The one and only Ed Gein!

The initial installments of the series in question focused on the Milwaukee monster – an individual possessing widespread notoriety. This was followed by the Menendez brothers – a more niche story for dedicated true crime fans. Now the spotlight turns to the Butcher of Plainfield. While he may lack the brand recognition of other notorious killers, and only killed two people, his postmortem violations and macabre artistry with female corpses have left a lasting mark. Even now, any film or show featuring dismembered remains, flayed skin, or items crafted from human tissue probably owes a debt to his actions from many decades past.

A Tone of Flippancy

Is my tone too casual? This appears to be the intended style of the production team. It's uncommon to witness a drama that dwells so eagerly on the worst depredations an individual – and humanity – can commit. This includes a significant plotline devoted to Nazi atrocities, presented with minimal moral context.

Structural and Stylistic Strengths

In terms of construction and style, the series excels. The rhythm is well-maintained, and the clever interweaving of past and present is handled masterfully. We see the actor as Gein committing his crimes – the murders, grave robberies, and assembling his collection. In parallel, the contemporary storyline follows Alfred Hitchcock, Robert Bloch, and Anthony Perkins as they develop Psycho from the literary source. The blending of the real – Gein's religious mother and his obsession with female doppelgangers – and the unreal – lurid portrayals of the Buchenwald criminal and SS officer gatherings – is executed proficiently.

The Glaring Omission

The missing element, in a truly unacceptable way, is any moral dimension or deeper insight to counterbalance the protracted, admiring visuals of his immoral deeds. The series portrays his rich inner world and frames him as a helpless individual of his domineering mother and a morbidly fascinated girlfriend. The underlying suggestion seems to be: What is a poor, schizophrenic guy to do? During a key moment, Robert Bloch speculates that without seeing certain images, Gein would have remained a small-town simpleton.

A Departure from Precedent

You could argue that a Ryan Murphy production – known for sleek, exaggerated aesthetics – is an unlikely source 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 examined embedded misogyny. Thus, it is possible, and Murphy has done it.

The Final Verdict

Yet not in this case. This installment feels like an exploitation of a lesser-known criminal case. It demands sympathy for the man behind the masks without providing understanding into how he became a monster. Aside from the reductive "religious mother" explanation, there is no attempt to comprehend the origins or avert similar tragedies. This is merely voyeuristic pandering to the basest instincts of viewers. The Nazi scenes do have lovely lighting, admittedly.