True Crime Shows: Unethical Entertainment?

The true-crime genre holds a uniquely controversial position in today’s entertainment landscape. When thoughtfully produced, it can highlight societal injustices, fostering empathy for victims and prompt legal reform. However, Netflix’s The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story, the latest addition to Ryan Murphy’s Monsters anthology, raises serious ethical questions about the line between responsible storytelling and voyeuristic entertainment. 

True-crime taps into our innate curiosity about the darker side of human behavior. At its best, it exposes systemic failures and draws attention to survivors’ struggles. The Menendez brothers’ case aligns with this framework, as recent media coverage fueled by Monsters has reignited discussions on a possible resentencing for the brothers, demonstrating how true-crime can catalyze real-world change.

However, as true-crime continues to surge in popularity, an ethical line is often crossed. Monsters exemplifies this tendency, where factual storytelling is often overshadowed by dramatized scenes meant to shock the audience rather than inform. Murphy’s inherent sexualization of abuse victims and disturbing scenes falsely depicting an incestuous relationship, cloud any potential for understanding the complexities of their case, raising valid concerns about whether the show aims to shed light on the brothers’ trauma or simply exploit it for profit.

Over the years, Murphy’s approach to storytelling, marked by his signature blend of dramatization and sensationalism, has drawn both admiration and backlash. Known for shows such as American-Horror-Story and Glee, he thrives on hyper-stylized narratives that stretch reality for dramatic effect. However, with real-life subjects, this approach feels irresponsible.

Take the previous Monsters season, Dahmer, for example. While popular, it was criticized for retraumatizing victims’ families by including graphic details without their consent. The same criticism can be applied to this season, where baseless details and exaggerated scenes are employed despite their dubious connection to reality, with Erik Menendez himself asserting that “Murphy cannot be this naive and inaccurate about our lives to do this without bad intent.” My personal introduction to the Menendez brothers was through a joke Murphy had written on his 2016 show Scream Queens, referring to them as “gay serial killers”—both entirely untrue statements—emphasizing his lack of regard for an accurate and earnest portrayal, as he reduces their trauma to a punchline. This flippant treatment of their story reflects his tendency to create media to satisfy his own fantasies rather than seeking to understand or respect the experiences of those involved. 

One of the more troubling aspects of Monsters is its treatment of violence and trauma. Rather than exploring the psychological impact of the abuse the brothers suffered, the show presents trauma through a stylized lens. Actors Cooper Koch and Nicholas Alexander Chavez portray the brothers with depth and sincerity; however, their performances are continually undermined by the show’s sensationalist framing. The show’s aestheticized depiction of violence not only desensitizes viewers from the emotional realities of the case but also trivializes the suffering at its core.

However, not all true-crime media succumbs to these pitfalls. Contrasting Monsters with more balanced portrayals of the Menendez case reveals the difference between responsible storytelling and exploitation. Consider the Law & Order episodes about the brothers, which explored the case’s complexities without resorting to speculation, gratuitous violence, or questioning the brother’s abuse claims. Though not entirely factual, Law & Order stayed rooted in the thematic truth of the case, proving it’s possible to depict true-crime in a way that respects the humanity of those involved without sacrificing dramatic tension. While Monsters may have contributed to the renewed interest in the Menendez brothers’ sentencing, this does not justify its methods. No matter your opinions on the brothers, one must question the morality of profiting from another’s trauma. True-crime holds the potential to spark conversation, cultivate empathy, and inspire change, but can only do so when committed to truth and respect over spectacle.