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Were the Menendez brothers incestuous lovers?


Were the Menendez brothers incestuous lovers?

On August 20, 1989, Lyle and Erik Menendez brutally murdered their parents. They shot them so many times—Lyle even had to return to his car to reload his gun—that their bodies were more or less mutilated.

This crime is at the centre Monster: The Story of Lyle and Erik Menendezthe second part of Ryan Murphy’s Netflix anthology series (after Dahmer – Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story), and there are also competing theories about why they committed the heinous act. Lyle and Erik claimed they acted in response to a lifetime of sexual abuse at the hands of their father, as well as out of fear of impending death. Prosecutors, meanwhile, argued their motive was simple greed, as the boys coveted the enormous inheritance their father wanted to keep from them.

Murphy’s nine-part series, however, offers an even juicier explanation: The boys wanted to kill their parents to keep secret the fact that they had an incestuous sexual relationship with each other.

Often accompanied by the sounds of Milli Vanilli, Lyle’s (Nicholas Alexander Chavez) favorite band, Monster: The Story of Lyle and Erik Menendez (out now) is Murphy’s signature film, at once profound and superficial, astute and offbeat. It’s also, predictably, striking, highlighted by a fifth episode consisting of a single, unbroken 33-minute take—the camera zooms in very slowly to close it up—in which Erik (Cooper Koch) describes in great detail the torment inflicted on him by his father, José (Javier Bardem), and ignored by his mother, Kitty (Chloë Sevigny).

A still of Cooper Koch and Nicholas Chavez in “Monsters”

Cooper Koch and Nicholas Chavez

Miles Crist/Netflix

Lest it sound as if the show is just a sympathetic portrait of its protagonists, this latest ripped-from-the-headlines affair – Murphy’s second this month, alongside American Sports History: Aaron Hernandez– vacillates wildly between condemnation and compassion, spreads criticism and finally comes to the same conclusion as the jury in the siblings’ second criminal trial: They were guilty as sin.

Despite the competing perspectives, some things are consistent throughout Monster: The Story of Lyle and Erik Menendez. José was a wealthy entertainment businessman who was demanding, if not frighteningly dominant, and his marriage to Kitty was quite unstable due to an extramarital affair on his part. Lyle and Erik were upper-class children who wore their arrogant sense of entitlement like a badge. And after their parents were murdered, the brothers speculated wildly (maybe the mafia murdered their parents!), buying a whopping $700,000 worth of clothes, Rolex watches, cars, and more.

Moreover, it is undisputed that they were held responsible for the executions when Erik – who had already confessed his crime to his friend Craig (Charlie Hall), who was unable to extract a confession from him by wiretapping – revealed everything to his therapist Dr. Jerome Oziel (Dallas Roberts), which all unfolded in a gripping manner in Monster: The Story of Lyle and Erik Menendez.

Erik does this because he is gripped by suicidal thoughts brought on by guilt, and the series suggests that Oziel kept quiet about this revelation less out of doctor-patient confidentiality (as he told Lyle and Erik) than because he viewed them as potential investors in his business. Any such dealings are ruined, however, when Oziel tells everything to his mistress Judalon Smyth (Leslie Grossman), who – supposedly out of anger at her lover for not wanting to leave his wife – reports it to the police.

Monster: The Story of Lyle and Erik MenendezIn the early episodes, Lyle and Erik are portrayed as unrepentant sociopaths whose ugly behavior is described with biting disgust. But that changes when they’re behind bars and hire lawyer Leslie Abramson (Ari Graynor), whereupon they suddenly have a new history: José had abused first Lyle and then Erik for years, and Lyle had abused Erik in a similar way in a twisted expression of anger and confusion.

This defense earns them the spite of reporter Dominick Dunne (Nathan Lane), who keeps appearing in court and living rooms to denigrate the boys and their “abuse excuse,” which was exactly the tactic that had previously earned his daughter’s killer, poltergeist Actress Dominique, a mere slap on the wrist. Lane is a mouthpiece for anti-Menendez sentiments in the show’s middle passages, counteracting the otherwise detailed and sad dramatization of Lyle and Erik’s abuse, and the actor throws himself into his role with the same enthusiasm that Graynor displays as the objectionable Abramson.

Dunne brings up the idea that Lyle and Erik committed patricide not as a reaction to trauma, but because they were afraid that José would find out they were lovers. Having already hinted at this in a shot of them enjoying themselves face to face at a party, Monster: The Story of Lyle and Erik Menendez shows it bluntly in a short scene in which Kitty accidentally bursts into the shower and catches the two of them lasciviously soaping each other up.

Such sensationalism is typical of Murphy, and extends to a brief conversation between Erik and OJ Simpson, who shows up in the cell next door to hear the Menendez boy’s helpful advice about making a deal. Moreover, much of the film presents material about José and Kitty that it has made up or that it has gotten from Lyle and Erik – the world’s most unreliable narrators when it comes to their own story.

A still of Chloe Sevigny and Javier Bardem in “Monsters: The Lyle and Eric Menendez Story”

Chloe Sevigny and Javier Bardem

Miles Crist/Netflix

Except for a single episode that focuses on José and Kitty, Bardem and Sevigny behave like cartoon ghouls or innocent victims. He scowls and rages with amusing ferocity, and she coldly dismisses her children’s accusations and drinks wine whenever she can – including the second she wakes from a fit. Whether they’re portraying them as cold-blooded killers or wounded souls, Chavez and especially Koch are convincing as the notorious brothers. Combined with the brisk and attention-grabbing direction of Carl Franklin, Paris Barclay and Michael Uppendahl, their performances guarantee that Monster: The Story of Lyle and Erik Menendez is never boring and at least occasionally makes you think.

Yet Murphy plays all sides, not because he believes in every one of his assumptions, but because he is interested in creating intrigue and suspense, and the plot is ultimately more successful in capturing attention than in providing new insights. It is therefore not surprising that Monster: The Story of Lyle and Erik Menendez ends exactly where it begins – with the inescapable reality that Lyle and Erik, currently serving life sentences without the possibility of parole, are exactly where they belong.

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