Monsters Into Movie Stars: How to Make Ethical True Crime

Human beings have always had a fascination with the macabre. As media has evolved constantly across the centuries, true crime has always been a fixture.

From the true crime pamphlets of 16th-century Britain to the podcasts of today, we have always felt drawn to the darkest corners of society. However, historians generally agree that modern true crime only began in the late 1960s with the bestselling novel-turned-blockbuster film In Cold Blood. This was a factual but highly dramatized retelling of the 1959 Clutter Family Murders and is generally understood to be the first time that a real crime was turned into a narrative drama.

As the term "serial killer" entered the public lexicon, the true crime genre only grew. Cold-blooded killers like the Son of Sam, Charles Manson, and the Zodiac became household names as famous as the Beatles. This raised the question: should we be giving people fame and glory for ruining lives?

The simple answer is "no," but it's not a simple problem. True crime stories will be told one way or the other. Saying "don't make true crime" is no more effective than saying "don't do crime". So we must find a way to hold storytellers to a certain moral standard.

To a degree, true crime is beneficial and serves an important function in society. The public has a "right to know" when something occurs that they should be wary of. Take, for example, the Son of Sam case: the people of New York needed to know that a violent criminal was on the loose. It may even help people learn how to protect themselves against criminals when they understand how they operate.

There are also instances of true crime helping bring criminals to justice. Michelle McNamara's reporting on The Golden State Killer and her book, I'll Be Gone in the Dark, are often credited with renewing public interest in the case, which led to his capture over 30 years after the case went cold. The true crime podcast, Proof, helped overturn the wrongful convictions of Lee Clark and Joey Watkins. There are also instances where true crime is made with the intent to expose systemic injustice, such as the miniseries When They See Us and its chronicling of the Exonerated 5.

However, it would be a stretch to say that all true crime is made as a means of "helping the public". David Fincher's Zodiac was made nearly 40 years after the Zodiac was active. No one was at risk of being unknowingly targeted by the Zodiac. The case didn't need renewed interest. It was not made in an attempt to make the world a better place. It was made out of fascination.

This is not to say that true crime for the sake of true crime is unethical. In the case of Zodiac, Fincher was actually praised for his ethical approach to the subject and his refusal to depict the crimes that had no survivors.

Yet some true crime can be actively damaging. Many true crime movies and TV shows distort the facts of the case, which is a very dangerous precedent.

You also have to acknowledge that the victims of these crimes and their families have a right to privacy and, understandably, don't want the worst day of their lives to become water-cooler chat.

Furthermore, while "Son of Sam laws" prevent criminals from profiting off of their stories, they still reap the benefits of fame. It's easy to glorify these people when you're making them the focal point of the story.

In recent memory, Ryan Murphy's Monster anthology series has fallen under quite a bit of controversy since its debut in 2022. It is a masterclass in what not to do.

The first installment, covering the crimes of Jeffrey Dahmer, was criticized from multiple angles. The series took liberties and had many unflinchingly gruesome depictions of the crimes themselves. As a result, many family members of the victims spoke out against the series, stating they had been kept in the dark during production and that the series re-traumatized them.

The second installment, an adaptation of the Menendez brothers' story, was actually criticized by the Menendez brothers themselves for implying they had an incestuous relationship alongside many other distortions of the truth.

The third installment, on Ed Gein, was criticized before it even came out for casting Charlie Hunnam as the titular role in what appears to be an attempt to turn a serial killer into an object of desire.

With this in mind, a simple way of writing ethical true crime is using the motto: "Don't be Ryan Murphy"

Don't write without considering the impact on real people. Consult the victims' families.

Don't prioritize storytelling over factual accuracy. Make sure everything is well researched and depicted faithfully.

Don't go out of your way to make your serial killer protagonist more attractive. Make no attempts to glorify your subject.

In all seriousness, it is a complicated issue and requires in-depth analysis. The National Center for Victims of Crime (NCVC) has published multiple guides on the subject. They recommend consulting journalistic ethical codes and making your true crime story "survivor-centered".

Firstly, this involves acknowledging that there is no "victimless true crime". All of this happened to a real person. Like it or not, you are covering the worst thing that ever happened to somebody.

The victims' feelings on the matter and their right to privacy are more important than any storytelling. So it is the responsibility of the storyteller to craft their story in a way that honors the victims' wishes.

NCVC recommends doing in-depth research, establishing a relationship with the victims built on trust, and crafting your story in a manner that is factual without glorifying the subject matter.

Above all else, whether you're a writer of true crime or just a fan, you have to remember that these are real things that happened to real people.