Rating: 3/5 stars

In 1989, Lyle and Erik Menendez shocked America when they brutally murdered their wealthy parents, José and Kitty Menendez, in their Beverly Hills mansion. Their trials became a media spectacle, revealing allegations of abuse and a complex family history that divided public opinion. Director Ryan Murphy (“Doctor Odyssey”) brought this story to Netflix with “Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story,” a nine-episode limited series following Lyle (Nicholas Alexander Chavez, “Grotesquerie”) and Erik Menendez (Cooper Koch, “Swallowed”) and their journey through the legal system and coming to terms with the abuse their parents subjected them through. 

The series unfolds this traumatic story through flashbacks woven into the main narrative. Lyle and Erik recount the events leading up to their parents’ murder—the purchase of the weapon, creating an alibi and shifting suspicion to a scapegoat. Initially, their plan works, allowing them to enjoy the wealth left behind in their parents’ will. But as Erik wrestles with guilt, he eventually confides in the family therapist, a confession that leads to their arrest. Caught by authorities, the brothers find themselves in a high-stakes legal battle, fighting to avoid the death penalty and a life behind bars. 

Forced to confront their past, the brothers find themselves entangled in a relentless cycle of trauma and publicity, where the lines between victimhood and culpability blur. As they navigate the consequences of their actions, they face a painful reckoning with the darkness they have endured—and the darkness they have become. 

Murphy’s popular series has stirred up plenty of controversy, with both dedicated Menendez case scholars and the brothers themselves calling it “disheartening slander.” Critics argue that the show prioritizes drama over an accurate portrayal of the case and its aftermath. Even if you take the facts out of the equation and critique the story solely as a work of fiction, it is clear the narrative has flaws. 

The primary flaw is the show had no idea which story it wanted to tell – is it about two brothers who went through horrendous sexual abuse at the hands of their father, or about two kids who killed their parents to cash in on their wealth? The series goes to great lengths to depict the disturbing, eye-opening realities of the brothers’ alleged abuse, showing audiences a side of sexual trauma Netflix had rarely, if ever, explored. Yet, despite this, the characters come across as almost detached, more focused on crafting a narrative of victimhood for the public in hopes of escaping conviction. Their aggression and reckless spending habits can be mistaken for sociopathic behavior – boys with no real empathy or urge to help anyone besides themselves.

Murphy frames “Monsters” almost like a courtroom drama, leaving it up to the audience to decide if the Menendez brothers deserve sympathy based on the show’s portrayal of events. Yet, in this version, the implicit “prosecution” argues that, while the brothers undeniably suffered abuse, their psychological turmoil and disconnection from society render them incapable of true innocence, regardless if it was a result of their father’s actions. Instead of purely evoking empathy, the show raises uncomfortable questions about accountability and the consequences of trauma, prompting viewers to grapple with the troubling notion that suffering does not always absolve individuals of their actions.

Regardless of its effectiveness, the show has reignited discussion around the Menendez brothers’ case. This renewed attention may have influenced the L.A. District Attorney George Gascón’s recent petition for resentencing, which could pave the way for parole. While the petition must still pass through the courts, it raises the possibility of their release after 35 years. Ultimately, the series has not only revived interest in a complex case but also highlighted ongoing questions of justice and accountability.

Image by Netflix from Youtube