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You've likely seen the Hitchcock classic, The Silence of the Lambs, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Perhaps you've also explored the books that inspired the first two films. Now prepare to meet the man who inspired the Bates Motel owner, Buffalo Bill, and the chainsaw-wielding villain. The one and only Ed Gein!

The initial installments of this anthology series focused on the Milwaukee monster – an individual possessing strong recognition. Then came the Menendez brothers – a somewhat specialized story for enthusiasts of the genre. Now the spotlight turns to the Plainfield Ghoul. Although he doesn't possess the brand recognition of Dahmer, Bundy, or Gacy, and his confirmed victims number just two, his grave desecrations and macabre artistry with the deceased have made a profound impact. To this day, any media featuring dismembered remains, removed epidermis, or skin-based artifacts probably owes a debt to his actions from many decades past.

A Dismissive Approach

Do I sound flippant? This appears to be the intended style of the creators. It's uncommon to witness a television series that lingers so gleefully on the worst depredations a person – and mankind – can commit. This includes a substantial narrative strand devoted to Nazi atrocities, shown with little to no justification.

Structural and Stylistic Strengths

In terms of construction and style, the show is impressive. The pacing is flawless, and the skillful blending of different timelines is executed brilliantly. We see Charlie Hunnam as the killer in action – the murders, grave robberies, and curating his gruesome trophies. Simultaneously, the contemporary storyline follows the creative minds as they develop Psycho from the literary source. The blending of factual elements – Gein's religious mother and his obsession with female doppelgangers – and the unreal – lurid portrayals of Ilse Koch and SS officer gatherings – is executed proficiently.

The Glaring Omission

The missing element, in a truly unacceptable way, is ethical commentary or meaningful analysis to offset the protracted, admiring visuals of Gein's depraved acts. The show presents his rich inner world and positions him as a helpless individual of his domineering mother and an accomplice with dark interests. The implied message seems to be: How could a mentally ill man resist? In one scene, the novelist theorizes that without exposure to photographs, Gein would have remained an unremarkable local.

A Departure from Precedent

You could argue that a show from this stable – known for sleek, exaggerated aesthetics – is the wrong place for profound human insight. But previous works like The People v OJ Simpson offered brilliant commentary on the press and the legal system. The Assassination of Gianni Versace explored celebrity and society. Impeachment scrutinized embedded misogyny. Thus, it is possible, and the producer has succeeded before.

The Ultimate Assessment

But not here. This installment feels like an exploitation of an underexploited true crime story. It asks for empathy for the individual responsible without providing understanding into how he became a monster. Aside from the reductive "devout parent" explanation, there is no attempt to understand the creation or prevent future cases. It is nothing but voyeuristic pandering to the lowest curiosities of the audience. The Nazi scenes do have excellent cinematography, though.