“Well, we thought if we’re going to kill our dad, we might as well just kill our mom too.” This was the twisted logic that carried Ryan Murphy’s second installment of the anthology series “Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story.” In a series that does not shy away from themes of sexual assault, incest, and parricide, “Monsters” manages to present the infamous Menendez murders with campy undertones. Whether it be the speculations of gossip columnist Dominick Dunne (Nathan Lane), or the everchanging facts of the murder case, “Monsters” presents itself as all but factual and nothing but mimicry.
When I sat down to watch “Monsters,” I expected a quality cinematic experience mixed in with an accurate telling of the case. To my disappointment, neither criterion met my expectations. For some background, “Monsters” dramatizes the true crime story of two brothers, Lyle (Nicholas Alexander Chavez) and Erik (Cooper Koch) Menendez, who murdered their wealthy parents, Kitty (Chloe Sevigny) and Jose (Javier Bardem), in August of 1989. The series spans seven years: from the date of the murders to the brothers’ ultimate convictions. What struck me immediately was the flashy display of the Menendez family’s lavish Beverly Hills lifestyle. It almost appeared that Murphy’s obsession with their affluence consumed the majority of the story. Rather than shifting focus to the evidence of the case and lead-up to the trial, the show wasted time on Lyle’s toupee fixation and brotherly embraces following lines of cocaine. And most of all, no depth was added with Dunne’s rumorous dinner parties that spat conjectures of a possible motive and incestuous relationship with no basis. But beyond the landscape “Monsters” sets of California upper crust absurdity, it’s the presentation of abuse that is most condemnable.
“Monsters’s” clunky structure never seems to highlight a clear stance on Jose Menendez’s sexual assault allegations. Instead, the series constantly shifts its display of the brothers’ motives and contradicts the rape evidence that it spent countless hours developing. Some may say these shifting perspectives were intentional choices as to ensue a level of mystery, but I think it is just pure laziness to fill in more talking points.
Episode Five’s “The Hurt Man” spotlighted Cooper Koch’s outstanding performance as Erik Menendez. In the 35 minute one-shot episode, Erik recounts his lifetime of sexual abuse at the hands of his father. The acting is raw and convincing, and the gradual zoom-in on Koch’s profile establishes an intimate dialogue with the audience. “The Hurt Man,” individually, is an Emmy worthy production, but its placement in an otherwise scattered showcase overshadows the shining star that is Koch.
The show is stretched out over nine episodes but seems to reveal so little about the actual case. It’s not until the end of the series that the trial is squished into one episode of demanding prosecutors and an unlikeable defense team. Rather than building off of one perspective, “Monsters” falls into the trap of voicing unnecessary characters as the show loses its clarity. In an attempt to articulate events from multiple vantage points, episodes blur together and repeat information that did not need more emphasis. But most of all, “Monsters” inappropriately (and awkwardly) inserts humor where sensitivity is needed. Dallas Roberts’ portrayal of Dr. Jerome Oziel is pathetic, and the same could be said for his mistress, Judalon Smyth (Leslie Grossman). The two fight for laughs when they should have been fighting for sympathy. While Oziel and Smyth’s handling of confidential information is indeed laughable, Roberts and Grossman appear merely as caricatures of their respective characters; they exaggerate common reactions and mannerisms beyond human belief.
Since the release of “Monsters,” viewers have reopened debate about the conviction of the Menendez brothers. Just a couple days ago, I found myself lost in conversation with the journalism crew as we discussed the validity of the Menendez case and analyzed the sexual assault allegations from the lens of a younger generation. In that sense, the show was effective in sparking interest and dialogue over a decades old murder case. But if the production was executed even stronger, I wonder what more the series could do in swaying the emotions of the American public. Was the show entertaining? Yes. Did it effectively tell the brothers’ stories? Absolutely not. Three stars.
