The Dangerous Allure of Serial Killer Entertainment

In 2022, Netflix released Dahmer - Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story and promised us a victim-centered story, but it didn't deliver. However, because of it’s success, Netflix has ordered two more seasons of the show, this time focusing on different real-life serial  killers. Remakes of real cases face an inescapable ethical problem: the victims' families are real and they suffer for real. 

Some praised Dahmer for the cinematography, direction, and acting. Others commended the sixth episode, “Silenced” for its overwhelmingly emotional scenes. The character based on Tony Hughes highlighted his very human passions and desires. However, it is an episode that leaves a bad aftertaste: a real person's life is fictionalized so that it can serve the serial killer's narrative.  

There is no set design, no acting, and no good intentions, that can counteract the overwhelming final result. Director Michael Haneke stated in an interview that creators should not manipulate the audience but to confront them. The audience must take an active part in the creation of meaning, and there should be enough room for it.

 The quality of shows like, Dahmer - Monster -any of that sort: I’m a killer; The Ripper; Worst Roommate Ever; Murdaugh Muderders: A Southern Mystery, You; etc.,Is not the issue at hand. The issue is: Why are we drowning in true crime entertainment? 

Minus One Life, Minus Two Lives...

Years ago, while living in Canada, I sat down to eat asparagus and turned on the tv. The news flashed between bites. When it was over, I couldn't help but feel that I was missing something… something important.

Back in 2009, at least, on a Toronto newscast, no one had been killed in a shooting. Nor had buses been set on fire with people inside. Nor had people lost their legs to the foot mines. Nor were there, as they said in Colombia at the time, "only 15 dead and other 30 injured". 

Violence desensitizes, which is like saying that each death is worth less than the previous one, that each stabbing is less scandalous, and that each feminicide is more justifiable. 

We human beings have tendencies. Tendencies to overconsume sugar, for example, or to be especially sedentary—it is inertia—, or to lie and deceive. Many articles and studies attempt to answer the question of why: some argue that we consume true crime in order to solve a mystery; others argue that it all boils down to primitive morbidity; and still others argue that we want to protect ourselves from possible encounters with serial killers.

“The critic has to educate the public; the artist has to educate the critic.” - Oscar Wilde

Professor Adam Goub brings something interesting to the table, something we already sensed but had not yet put into words:

“Pop culture can potentially keep us informed about certain crimes, so much so that we can become our own experts on Dahmer and (Charles) Manson. It doesn’t necessarily challenge us to come to terms with these horrors.”

This kind of entertainment, just like junk food, gives us a feeling of satisfaction without giving us any nourishment. We put the hard questions on others—"why did X do Y?"—instead of questioning ourselves: why are we consuming what we are consuming? Are we overlooking others' grief? Are we in any way complicit in the exploitation of others' pain? Are we accepting that "only 15 dead and other 30 injured" is normal?

For us, the viewers, our work is far from passive:  What emotions does any serial killer stir in us while watching their series? Is it bewilderment? What is our purpose in consuming violent entertainment? Is it consistent with the life we want to create for ourselves and others?

Perhaps we are naturally, hard-wired inclined to violence because it is readily and everywhere available. The fact that it is so easy to consume violence also makes us want more of it. We are inclined to what's familiar.  

In fiction, killers must—or at least tend to—have a reason for committing crimes. In real life, there is no author of a narrative, but an author of a crime and they don’t need reasons to commit them. 

A Bucket of Cold Water

Father's Story, the book written by Lionel Dahmer, Jeffrey's father, is two things. First, it is a deep, loving, and terribly contrite reflection on the father's role, and the father's own story, on his vulnerabilities and mistakes. Secondly, it is the search for his son, the search for the redemption of the one he insists on calling Jeff, that sweet boy we will never know, because for the world there is no Jeff, but Jeffrey Dahmer. We could argue we consume true crime to unveil the killer’s intentions and protect ourselves. By the end of the book, Lionel realizes that it doesn't matter if he manages to get all the pieces of the puzzle together. The truth is that he will never know why Dahmer killed and where his madness came from. We could say we consume true crime because we have drive to understand, to know why bad things happen. But, as Lionel Dahmer discovered, we will never truly know.

Lina M. Betancourt is a writer born in Bogotá. Her creative work is focused on unraveling the human experience. She has worked as a translator, teacher, and editor, and she is an advocate for a just and sustainable world. Pronouns she/her.

Website: linabetancourt.com