‘Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story’ series review: Javier Bardem, Chloë Sevigny star in callous, confused storytelling mess

A still from ‘Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story’

For Ryan Murphy to have taken this long to adapt the story of the Menendez brothers is surprising. On the surface, the murder case had all the trappings for a Murphy-esque show: a gruesome sequence of events that unfold within the cushy comforts of a Beverely Hills Home. But move past the murders, and you find some uncomfortable truths. While Murphy and his co-showrunner Ian Brennan try to explore the motivation behind the murders of José Menéndez and his wife Kitty at the hands of their sons Lyle and Erik, they do a poor job at scripting out the nuances at play.

For the uninitiated, the wealthy Menendez family became the centre of media attention in 1989 after José and Kitty were shot dead by their sons, Lyle and Erik. What particularly drew attention to this crime was the court proceedings that were broadcast, allowing for an unfiltered stream of public opinion to permeate the discussion. The case made it to American dinner tables, and was even parodied in a Saturday Night Live sketch.

Murphy’s latest foray into true crime, a genre he has not quite yet perfected as well as his horror anthologies, is the second instalment in his Monster series. In nine episodes, he and Brennan follow the murder, but focus more closely on the events that did not play out live for the American audience. This constitutes the time that Lyle (Nicholas Alexander Chavez) and Erik (Cooper Koch) spent after the murder, before they were caught, and the hours they spent in prison preparing for their defense. The story, which plays out in a non-linear format, also jumps back in time to give a sense of the kind of parents José (Javier Bardem) and Kitty (Chloë Sevigny) were.

Murphy and Brennan are quick to paint some early, crude character sketches of Lyle and Erik, but disappointingly there’s not much effort made to later add more depth. The brothers are not remorseful in the slightest and carry on with their flashy Hollywood lifestyle. The script, at this point, simply seems to parrot the narrative that was popularised by the mainstream media at the peak of the case in the early 1990s.

The unique aspect of the Menendez brothers’ case, turned out to be the eventual, guaranteed shift in the audience’s perception. Their court testimony of sexual abuse at the hands of their father, ends up underscoring any version of the events of the murder, across all adaptations.

In the latest Netflix adaptation, the showrunners are not exactly dismissive of the sexual abuse, but they are more interested in ensuring the consideration of all claims, which includes the claim that maybe this was all made up. The result is a show unsure of the direction it is taking, without any conviction in its writing.

Far from providing the audience with any grounds to believe the alternatives, Murphy and Brennan make it a habit of hinting at what ifs. What if the brothers were plain and simple evil murderers who cared about money? What if they had a more nefarious unspoken secret to hide between them? No one better embodies these dinner-table gossip questions better than Vanity Fair reporter Dominick Dunne (Nathan Lane), whom Murphy turns to in the latter half of the series to represent a questioning, curious society. By the time you end the show, the script becomes a vehicle for piling up salacious theories.

Murphy and Brennan’s dubious record of adapting true crime aside, their biggest issue repeats itself in this show’s inability to provide a satisfying ending. When he and Ian Brennan pick up these unsolved crimes, like they did with The Watcher (2022), the scripts often lack a through line for the audience to follow.

It is a technically well-made show, featuring the signature stylings that come with a prestige Ryan Murphy presentation. While the script may leave much to be desired, the cast’s performance makes up for some of it. Javier Bardem as José leads the Menendez family with a menacing presence, while Sevigny follows as the matriarch barely keeping it together. Nicholas Alexander Chavez and Cooper Koch carry the more tender notes of the show with ease, with the fifth episode being a standout one for Koch.

The story at the heart of Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story has been told countless times before, contributing towards the understanding of sexual abuse, and the 90s American media circus. Yet, in the hands of Ryan Murphy and Ian Brennan it is a sensational mess so occupied with the ornamentation of facts, it loses the plot halfway through.

Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story is available for streaming on Netflix