The true crime genre often prioritizes entertainment rather than truth.
By: Kaia Mann, Editor-in-chief
“Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story” is built upon the rising popularity of the true crime genre. However, amidst growing controversy, the Ryan Murphy production, along with similar titles, raise critical ethical concerns about how to portray real-life tragedies.
“Monsters” tells the story of the New Jersey brothers who were convicted of killing their parents, José and Mary Louise “Kitty” Menendez. Their trial began in 1993 and soon gained mass media attention.
However, the story reaches much deeper than murder. Their actions, which ultimately to life sentences, came after years of physical, mental and sexual abuse at the hands of their parents.
While there has been much debate over whether the boys were guilty, lying, or acting out of self defense, their story and Murphy’s show asks a much bigger question: How do you tell true crime stories properly?
“Monsters” has dominated the charts with over 2.7 billion minutes watched in the first week of release. This attention has also brought increased discourse over the subject. Murphy is being slammed with complaints from people who believe the show was not only glorifying the violence but twisting the narrative in ways that can be deeply insensitive to those affected by similar abuses.
This obsession with crime and its consequences is nothing new; it has intrigued audiences since ancient times, often manifesting in cautionary tales or public executions. Over the decades, works like Truman Capote’s “In Cold Blood” and Vincent Bugliosi’s “Helter Skelter” have paved the way for the true crime genre, which has found a particularly robust platform in modern podcasts and radio shows.
According to a recent research report, over 80 percent of the U.S. population 13 years or older consume True Crime through any medium. Another study showed true crime as the most common topic in podcasts and radio shows, at around 24 percent.
True crime stories give audiences a voyeuristic glimpse into violent and disturbing events, offering a safe way to explore the taboo from a distance. The issue with a lot of true crime is how it sensationalizes the pain and suffering of real people, reducing their trauma to entertainment. While some true crime content is handled with care and sensitivity, some of it can feel like a blatant mockery.
Murphy’s show is his second addition to the “Monsters” anthology, the first focusing on Jeffrey Dahmer, sparking similar outrage among victims’ families for its exploitative nature.
The most egregious aspect of the Menendez show is the insinuation of an incestuous relationship between the two brothers. Lyle and Eric Menendez attributed their actions to the horrific sexual abuse they suffered at the hands of their father and the willful ignorance of their mother. This abuse led to emotional confessions between the brothers, as Lyle tearfully recounts in a court testimony.
To reinterpret this trauma into a fanfiction-style relationship between the adult brothers in the film is not only dismissive of their suffering but also trivializes the severe consequences of sexual abuse. The show feels more like a contrived excuse to showcase the two in a exaggerated scene, rather than a meaningful retelling of the Menendez story.
Murphy has even captured the attention of Erik Menendez himself, with his wife releasing a statement from him the day after the show premiered claiming it is full of “blatant lies” and is a “dishonest portrayal” of their story.
Whether you believe the brothers, their tale is extremely heavy and tragic, and one that real people go through every day. Given the real-world implications of their case, it should be handled with care. If Murphy wanted to make this story, which is obviously compelling for many, he didn’t have to tie in the real true crime event. The nine-episode show feels more like a made-for-TV superficial dramatization than a genuine analysis of the case.
This issue rings true for much of the true crime genre. Whether it be exaggerated TV shows, or weirdly lighthearted and commodified radio shows like “My Favorite Murder” or “Crime Junkie,” these interpretations often have an exploitative nature, amping up and making jokes about the story rather than prioritizing truth.
There is a right way to tell true crime. Instead of attempting to only make a compelling entertaining piece of media, experts in the field agree to instead focus on fact.
“It’s not my job to spin the story; it’s not my job to add the emotion into the story,” said Steve Gregroy, a pioneer of true crime radio and the host of Unsolved on iheartradio. “My job is to tell the factual bases of the story based on a case file, based on a detective’s testimony.”