“Dhamer” as failed narrative and what an honest story would look like

***Is a spoiler warning really necessary? You probably know the story already.

One of the most annoying things in Ryan Murphy's new Netflix series, is the way the image of Dhamer is constructed as an attractive, athletic male. The glistening muscles, the pulling of weights, and the handsomeness of him, as if the real killer is some kind of film star. And that's exactly the problem with most of the films or tv series that deal with the subject of serial killers: they construct a narrative based on the killer as the protagonist of the story, even though that's not the point at all. What about the victims? What about the society that allowed these killers to grow and act the way they did?

It seems as if there aren't any film-makers out there who can actually deal with the problem the way it is supposed to be dealt with. One of the most interesting series I have watched on the subject was "Mindhunter," by David Fincher, which to his credit, did not use the gruesomeness of the murders to resort to sensationalism. But Mindhunter fell into yet another trap: the need to explain how the minds of these killers work, as if these cases should be narrowed down to the work of a detective, and the phenomenon is strictly something that can be narrated through the crime genre. Fincher, as many others, has contributed to the myth of the “superior intelligence” of serial killers, in his films (see "Se7en".) A most annoying lie, which Mindhunter corrects by showing that many serial killers are not that smart after all. (Don't get me wrong. Mindhunter is great in many aspects. But this is not the point here.)

"Dhamer," the tv series, by contrast, does not do that. It is obvious Jeff Dhamer wasn't a criminal mastermind. He was extremely careless, and he was caught because of that. However, he was quite a good manipulator. He managed to evade getting caught taking advantage of racism within the police force, and especially on their homophobia, which was rampant in the 80s and the 90s due to the HIV pandemic. The policemen handed Dhamer back a 14 year old Laotian boy, Konerak Sinthasomphone, who was clearly in need of medical help, instead of taking him to the hospital and arresting Dhamer for the abuse – because Dhamer flat out told them that he was his boyfriend without any "shame." Thus, making sure that they would give up on dealing with “the degenerate fairies” as quickly as possible.

There are many reasons why the usual film and tv narratives about serial killers are problematic. One of them has to do with the aspect of mental health, and the way both film-makers and the audience are largely ignorant and unable to deal with it in detail. ("Mindhunter" explores that quite successfully.) One of the most annoying things about Dhamer's case, is the way his trial revolved around the question of whether he was sane or insane when he was committing those atrocities. By the strict definition of the courts, at the time, sane meant to know how to define the difference between what is right, and what is wrong, and what the court was interested in was whether the intention of the murderer is evident in planning the murder beforehand and in his escape from the law afterwards by hiding the evidence. Dhamer was found guilty of that – he killed with intent. He did know the difference, rationally. He knew killing people was bad. But he couldn't stop himself. And he tried to cover his tracks – even though he kept plenty of evidence. So much of it, in fact, that when he was finally caught, he couldn't deny his involvement in the killings. The court disregarded an expert's assessment, that Dhamer probably suffered from two personality disorders: both borderline and schizotypal, on top of his paraphilic disorder. If that's not mental illness, then what is it? What sane person could and would commit these horrendous acts? It's high time society, the judicial system, and the audiences realize that compulsion to kill, especially in the case of a serial killer, means the perpetrator does not really have control over their actions.

It seems that most narratives fail when it comes to depicting complex characters, such as those that suffer from mental illness. Ignorance is abundant on the subject, despite the fact that we have so many films out there that deal with this subject, and despite the fact that psychiatry has evolved greatly during the last decades. At worst, mental health patients in films are something to be afraid of. Irrational, inhuman, unlovable. At "best", they are criminal masterminds or geniuses on top of it, by the likes of Hannibal Lecter.

The audience fails to get the point: Dhamer was indeed the man next door. Mental health disorders happen to real people that you pass by every day. It is not evident, always. Most of all, it doesn't necessarily lead to violence. In fact, the use of violence is quite rare when it comes to mental health patients.

The failure in Dhamer's narrative is multifold. It is suggested that we approach Jeff Dhamer with sympathy. He was probably born the way he was, or his parents' abuse (which is probably largely magnified in the tv series) led him to be what he was: he was the son of a crazy mother and a distant father. The worst thing the series does, however, is center the series around Dhamer – and not his victims. To the creators' credit, they do try to turn the narrative around once – in the case of Tony Hughes. But even that relationship is presented in such a way, as to shed light to another supposed side of Dhamer: that of the man who desperately wanted to have a human relationship, and he was on the brink of having it, but failed again to do so. More sympathy for the killer.

It's time to turn the narrative around: the old Hollywood trope of centering the focus on a single protagonist whose struggle is to get what he wants, cannot be used and should not be used in the cases of serial killers. Because, by default, when such a trope is used, it leads to sympathy for the killer and the glorification of murder. The audience is wired to want to feel sympathy for a protagonist, because this is how myths are constructed since the dawn of storytelling. Instead, what we really have here, the true story, is this: a multi - faceted failure of a society to protect the victims. And that narrative is something that we desperately need. Not elevating sick individuals to the realm of myth.

Such a narrative would be hard to write. It is hard for a writer to handle multiple protagonists and multiple plot threads. But it is something that can be done, and should be done. There is no lack of writers in the United States, no lack of funds, and no lack of experience. Films and tv nowadays employ people of great skill, who can handle extremely complicated narratives. There is no shortage of ability. Only a shortage in vision.

Specifically, the Dhamer creators failed to put the focus where they could have very successfully placed it: at the center of the LGBTQIA+ community that was brutally deprived by Dhamer. The gay bars and bath houses of the time were the places where he sought his victims. A narrative focused on these places where the victims passed their time, a narrative focused on how each of these people disappeared, their stories that may have intersected, based on the memories of those who lived with them, that would be something truly groundbreaking. And it would emphasize the loss, the surprise at their constant and incomprehensible disappearances. “Dhamer” bypasses these spaces and their function, and uses them as a background, while they were the center of everything that happened from the victims' perspective. In “Conversations with a Killer: The Jeffrey Dahmer Tapes” we see actual testimonies like this, and it was indeed enlightening and important that this side of the story was presented.

An honest narrative about the phenomenon of serial killers in the USA, should examine head on these conditions that allow and encourage serial killers to act. Multiple failures on all fronts: gun control, mental health care, avoidance of the glorification of violence and glorification of serial killers themselves (and more.) The film and tv industry in the US boosts sensationalism, and glorifies the serial killer phenomenon, in favor of high ratings and box office success, instead of being a tool in the search for comprehension, which is all storytelling is really about. It is as if the USA is afraid of looking at themselves in the mirror. But only then, only by doing that, will Americans be able to turn the tables around, and let their society start the healing.