‘Monsters: ​​The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story’ Review: Twisted Retelling of a 1989 Murder Case Fails to Justify its Own Creation

If you thought you were free from the trauma of watching “Dahmer - Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story” in 2022, think again. Demonstrating once more that Ryan Murphy doesn't back down from taboo and societal stigma, the creator of “American Horror Story” has brought his interpretation of the infamous Menendez brothers case to the screen. His second installment to the “Monsters” anthology series was released on Sept. 19, and “Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story” is yet another sordid tale that will have you grimacing and grinding your teeth throughout. However, the latest series also raises the question of whether entertainment value is worth exploiting real-life stories of murder and abuse.

Complete with almost every content warning in the book, the show’s nine episodes deliver an excruciatingly detailed account of the 1989 murder of Jose and Kitty Menendez by their two sons. Beginning with an extremely graphic depiction of the killings in the first episode, the remainder of “Monsters” dissects the history of physical and sexual assault inflicted on Erik and Lyle Menendez (Cooper Koch and Nicholas Alexander Chavez), their motivations for this gruesome act, and the trial that ultimately lands the two with lifetime in prison without parole.

In this adaptation of one of the most controversial and morally ambiguous murder trials in modern history, the majority of the episodes fittingly explore the shades of gray between what is right and wrong, good and evil. Coupled with the nuanced approach to storytelling is a star-studded cast that is, in most cases, successful at delivering on the complex emotionality that is required.

It should come as little surprise that Oscar-winning actor Javier Bardem — who has been identified by psychiatrists as having come the closest to portraying a realistic psychopath on the screen — delivers a compelling portrayal of Jose Menendez, an unwavering authority figure who meets a bloody end at the hands of the sons he is accused of having physically, emotionally, and sexually abused for years. Bardem’s performance, beautifully coupled by that of “American Horror Story” veteran Chloe Sevigny as Kitty, is crucial in allowing the viewer to truly experience the complicated dynamics present in the Menendez family prior to the ‘89 murders.

However, this moral tension that threads its way throughout the episodes is overplayed in some ways through the simplistically contrasting portrayals of the two brothers. Lyle comes across an angry and immature sociopath, while Erik assumes the position of a somewhat pitiful figure who is determined to prove to the world — and himself — that he is not evil. With a show that explores how people and situations can be multifaceted, making the brothers caricatures of right and wrong reads as cheap character design. The reductive choice is one of many examples of how the show manipulates certain aspects of the real-life case to make its content more palatable and entertaining for their viewers.

Since the show’s release, Erik Menendez has released a statement condemning the show for its inaccuracies in its portrayal of Lyle, as Murphy negatively molds the viewer’s opinion of the elder brother through scenes that include him cursing at a child and making light of the death of his parents.

Despite the focus on lavish spending sprees in the first episode, upbeat music, and materialistic behavior — sure to sway almost all viewers to the belief that there was at least some degree of financial motivation — later episodes take a far more gut-wrenching, heartfelt approach to the case. The fourth episode “Kill or Be Killed,” is almost entirely focused on the sexual abuse endured by both of the brothers at the hands of their father, while the subsequent “The Hurt Man” — masterfully done in one, 35-minute shot — allows the viewer to truly sympathize with Erik as he recounts the abuse he suffered up until the moment the brothers decided to kill their parents.

While it is certainly up for debate whether or not Murphy learned from the concerns of his previous hit — “DAHMER” earned the distinction of being one of three Netflix English-language TV shows to accumulate over a billion hours streamed — the question of whether this genre of media glamorizes killers and reopens old wounds for the loved ones of the impacted still remains.

It is true, however, that the decision to cover the far more morally gray case of the Menendez brothers does in some ways come closer to justifying the existence of this newest installment of the “Monsters” series. The far more complicated ethics of the case allowed the showrunners the opportunity to dissect exactly who the true monsters of this case are, resulting in a far more generative and dynamic season.

The Menendez case in particular also has the potential to explore how modern society’s perception of sexual abuse has evolved since 1996, as well as how gender played a role in the outcome of the case. These opportunities for sociopolitical commentary were an opening for Murphy to continue his objectively successful series without blatantly exploiting real trauma. However, despite sexual assault of men still being held to a different standard than that of women today, it becomes abundantly clear as the show progresses that it was in no case Murphy’s intention to lean into these issues, with there only being a brief mention of how gender played a role in the case.

What’s more, the later episodes of the show strongly deviate from its previous attempts to remain objective. This digression includes a plotline that serves to even somewhat justify Jose’s sexual abuse of his sons, demonstarting how the showrunner’s own opinions on the case strongly seeped through as the show progressed. One of the most blatant — and most biased — examples of this is the finale’s final scene: a flashback to a tender, joyful exchange between Jose and Kitty that has no purpose other than to inspire a degree of sympathy for the parents accused of physical torture, emotional abuse, and rape. Sealing the deal is a stark transition to the Menendez brothers as they plot the future murder of their mother and father, the scene which closes out the season.

Murphy takes it one step further with his interpretation of the Menendez brothers tragedy through the sensationalism and less-than-educated guess work throughout the series. One of the show’s most puzzling and unnecessary decisions is the strong implication of an incestuous relationship between the brothers, which was strongly denied by the brothers in court and has never been confirmed by any reputable source. And it is with these tweaks — focused solely on embellishing the story – that the show’s purpose is brought further away from an intellectual discussion of the facts and closer to an exploitative abuse of real lives for entertainment value and shock factor.

Now, as with any condensed interpretation of real events — especially with a case where so many aspects remain undetermined — it's not reasonable to expect that Murphy and his team would have complete accuracy and coverage on all of the events regarding the case. But with sensitive source material and no cooperation from the main parties involved, “Monsters” is the perfect example of how true crime often has no business being dramatized.