Disclaimer:

This article highlights depictions of violence and disturbing content in media, which may be potentially triggering or distressing for some readers. Kindly be informed before reading further. It has been written with utmost urgency and responsibility to interrogate the ethical implications of such portrayals and the progressive desensitization of audiences in a general and broader context and does not target any particular group, nationality, or gender. The piece also intends to critically evaluate and question the deployment of artistic liberties and graphic realism in films and other media.

I just finished watching Monster: The Ed Gein Story on Netflix India. Trust me when I say this - I can stomach a lot of gore. For someone who’s been a crime buff since childhood and has studied forensic sciences and criminology academically, I’ve seen my fair share of disturbing material. But it made me wonder - where do we draw the line for the general audience, outside an academic context?

The show genuinely shook me. The show's graphic depictions of violence were disturbing beyond measure. We’re seeing more and more films today feeding off sensationalism - the bloodier it gets, the better it sells. Violence has become so normalized that we often overlook the real violence happening around us - genocides, systemic brutality, and crimes against humanity - because we’ve grown numb to what we see on screen. A periodic erosion of empathy.

We’re also seeing a growing number of Indian films glorifying men who go on mass killing sprees and their commercial success should be answer enough to where our social psyche is headed. Dramatized depictions of rape to evoke sympathy for the “abla naari” have long been a recurring formula. And it doesn’t stop there - our screens are becoming breeding grounds for distorted gender narratives, revenge fantasies, and performative empathy, all wrapped in the language of “cinematic realism.” I can go on.

What’s worse, Monster ends by romanticizing the serial killer - a man who made masks out of human skin and went on to inspire a whole cohort of serial killers. The filmmakers clearly took liberties, exaggerating details for shock value. According to the show, this trend started long ago - this obsession with sensationalizing horror isn’t new. It stretches back decades, from Alfred Hitchcock’s so-called “artistic” thrillers to today’s modern gore-fests. Somewhere along the way, we’ve collectively lost our empathy, becoming desensitized to the very violence we watch.

Beyond the shock value, Monster also tries to explore some deeper nuances. The show touches on how historical horrors, like the Holocaust, shaped humanity’s collective desensitization - how audiences became almost thirstily curious for extreme content. It doesn’t shy away from the cultural and moral lens of the times, highlighting how acts like sodomy were viewed in a completely different, often criminalized light. The show even makes subtle distinctions that many films ignore, such as between gynephilia and transsexuality, showing an effort to explore complex psychological and sexual identities rather than flattening them into caricatures. There’s also a scene where a woman is being tortured and the audience is shown hooting - a jarring moment, yes, but one that forces reflection on how collective fascination with violence has developed and deeply revealing of the culture of spectatorship we’ve created around violence.

On the other hand, the show doesn’t shy away from truly disturbing content. The graphic depictions of necrophilia, unhinged nudity, references to bestiality, cannibalism, extreme bloody violence, and suicide are presented in excruciating detail, leaving viewers shocked and unsettled. This is the darker side of the show - the part that tests the limits of what audiences can stomach and highlights the fine line between storytelling and exploitation.

There are monsters actually living amongst us. This glorified portrayal of sexual deviancy and psychological perversion isn’t storytelling - it’s dangerous. It fuels criminality, distorts empathy, and normalizes sickness in the name of art. You are literally depicting, in graphic detail, what some pervert might be fantasizing in his mind. It’s almost like porn for the deviants - not storytelling, not analysis, just gratification of the darkest impulses.

And to those who argue that “films are not responsible,” remember this - most serial killers in their formative years were heavily influenced by media: comics, pulp magazines, and films that further fueled their twisted minds and gave justification to their fantasized realities and deviancies. Their narcissistic tendencies often drew satisfaction from the fame and attention such media implicitly glorified, providing both validation and a framework for their deviant behaviors. When serial killers saw people flocking to theatres or eagerly buying magazines and papers about violent crimes, they imagined themselves as part of the story - the ones controlling the narrative. This attention fed their ego, giving them a sense of power and importance they may never have felt in their lives. For example, in the show, we see Jerry Brudos brag that Ted Bundy’s modus operandi was “boring” highlighting how killers compare themselves and take pride in their notoriety. Many of these individuals also had troubled, abusive childhoods and were loners (as was the case with Ed Gein), so public fascination offers them a sense of visibility in a world where they otherwise feel invisible - though an exception can be made with a few who managed to maintain seemingly normal or even successful double lives.

This is wrong. No amount of profit justifies this level of irresponsibility. Just to mint a few dollars, they’ve traded empathy for entertainment. Again, the focus shifts to the killer, while the victims and their stories are barely heard or acknowledged. The narrative tries to humanize him through the schizophrenia lens.

Victims’ stories matter because they remind us of the real consequences of violence, grounding the narrative in empathy rather than sensationalism. Highlighting their experiences can expose societal failures, contextualize the crime, and challenge the culture that often glorifies perpetrators. It shifts the focus from twisted fascination to understanding, accountability, and remembrance.

Since the filmmakers failed to issue proper trigger warnings, I’ll say it myself - if you’re someone who has experienced sexual violence, psychological abuse, or trauma of any kind, please be warned. Skip this show. Protect your mind, protect your peace.

Where is the censor board when such content is allowed to stream unchecked? Out for a cigarette, I guess.