The new 10-episode Netflix series Mindhunter premiered Friday, and it does not disappoint. Based on the book of the same name by real-life FBI criminal profiler John Douglas, the show is sort of a meta-detective procedural, simultaneously leading viewers through specific murder cases, while also showing us the nascent behavioral science unit at Quantico. We learn of the process for catching killers while such techniques are first tried out.
Before Clarice Starling or the crew at Criminal Minds, there were just a few intrepid agents, curious to discover a new way of catching society's most dangerous assailants. The story takes place in the late 1970s, and agents Holden Ford (Jonathan Groff) and Bill Tench (Holt McCallany) are developing a new method for tracking murderers, specifically those involving sexual assault. They endeavor to flip the prevailing process. Instead of just following physical evidence and waiting for killers to strike again, they begin to investigate the mental processes and personal experiences of criminals, hoping to catch killers before they strike. They want to change the system of FBI investigation. Cops no longer just knock on doors and wrangle suspects. They are psychologists, imploring the darkest minds to reveal how they tick, hoping to learn enough to prevent the next inevitable horrific case.
Ford is the ambitious youngster paired with his grizzled and more world-wise partner, Tench. They work together masterfully, but that doesn't mean they don't butt heads. Ford sees opportunity everywhere, while Tench respects process and discretion. Tench is too old to be risking his career on whims. Ford sees the point of having a career in the FBI is to take such risks.
Together, they decide to interview serial killers (a term that, amazingly, did not exist until this time period) in prison to get background and modus operandi details in an effort to develop patterns and make predictions. The two agents eventually enlist the help of psychology professor Wendy Carr (Anna Torv) to enhance the academic validity of their discoveries. The FBI higher-ups are largely kept out of the loop regarding this new unit, for fear that taxpayers will not want their money wasted on research and lab tests when more cops with more more guns are needed on the streets. So Ford and Tench delicately dance around bureaucratic protocol for as long as they can.
The series is heavy on talking, as the interviews with killers and discussions among agents form the crux of the show--after all, this is what FBI agents spend most of their time doing. And it is in these elaborate discussions that the most interesting elements of how we investigate crimes reveal themselves. The show addresses the nature vs. nurture debate of criminality, how gender is related to criminality, how officers cope with the horrors of their work, and even the ethics and Constitutionality of predicting illegal behavior. There are great sociological questions raised, and the show handles each admirably.
Acclaimed director David Fincher helms the first two and last two episodes, but his dimly-lit style permeates all ten episodes. The darkness of the subject matter is reflected in nearly every set piece, and though episodes six and seven lull a bit, the series keeps the thematic intensity throughout. We are always constantly aware of the consequences for everyone involved.
Perhaps the most disturbing scenes in the series are the interviews with the serial killers, particularly the exchanges with Edmund Kemper (Cameron Britton), one of the most brutal and deranged serial killers in American history. We see Ford and Tench wrestle with his contradictory nature--he is calm and intelligent, even cordial with the agents--as his madness lurks underneath. The agents must fight off sympathetic impulses at hearing his tortured background, and Britton plays Kemper's insanity with an Emmy-worthy understatement.
The show is not easy to watch, with much talk of gruesome crimes and demented worldviews, but from a psychological perspective, it offers excellent insight into the complicated nature of police investigation. Cops see the worst the world has to offer, then have to go home at night and live with themselves and their loved ones. They are often in as much need of psychological help as the people they are chasing. Mindhunter gets to the core of what makes people crazy. And there is plenty terrain still to cover. The finale hints toward endless possibilities for continued development of the behavioral science unit, and Ford and Tench are worth following for many more episodes. A release for season two has not been announced yet, but I look forward to continuing on the dark journey.
Before Clarice Starling or the crew at Criminal Minds, there were just a few intrepid agents, curious to discover a new way of catching society's most dangerous assailants. The story takes place in the late 1970s, and agents Holden Ford (Jonathan Groff) and Bill Tench (Holt McCallany) are developing a new method for tracking murderers, specifically those involving sexual assault. They endeavor to flip the prevailing process. Instead of just following physical evidence and waiting for killers to strike again, they begin to investigate the mental processes and personal experiences of criminals, hoping to catch killers before they strike. They want to change the system of FBI investigation. Cops no longer just knock on doors and wrangle suspects. They are psychologists, imploring the darkest minds to reveal how they tick, hoping to learn enough to prevent the next inevitable horrific case.
Ford is the ambitious youngster paired with his grizzled and more world-wise partner, Tench. They work together masterfully, but that doesn't mean they don't butt heads. Ford sees opportunity everywhere, while Tench respects process and discretion. Tench is too old to be risking his career on whims. Ford sees the point of having a career in the FBI is to take such risks.
Together, they decide to interview serial killers (a term that, amazingly, did not exist until this time period) in prison to get background and modus operandi details in an effort to develop patterns and make predictions. The two agents eventually enlist the help of psychology professor Wendy Carr (Anna Torv) to enhance the academic validity of their discoveries. The FBI higher-ups are largely kept out of the loop regarding this new unit, for fear that taxpayers will not want their money wasted on research and lab tests when more cops with more more guns are needed on the streets. So Ford and Tench delicately dance around bureaucratic protocol for as long as they can.
The series is heavy on talking, as the interviews with killers and discussions among agents form the crux of the show--after all, this is what FBI agents spend most of their time doing. And it is in these elaborate discussions that the most interesting elements of how we investigate crimes reveal themselves. The show addresses the nature vs. nurture debate of criminality, how gender is related to criminality, how officers cope with the horrors of their work, and even the ethics and Constitutionality of predicting illegal behavior. There are great sociological questions raised, and the show handles each admirably.
Acclaimed director David Fincher helms the first two and last two episodes, but his dimly-lit style permeates all ten episodes. The darkness of the subject matter is reflected in nearly every set piece, and though episodes six and seven lull a bit, the series keeps the thematic intensity throughout. We are always constantly aware of the consequences for everyone involved.
Perhaps the most disturbing scenes in the series are the interviews with the serial killers, particularly the exchanges with Edmund Kemper (Cameron Britton), one of the most brutal and deranged serial killers in American history. We see Ford and Tench wrestle with his contradictory nature--he is calm and intelligent, even cordial with the agents--as his madness lurks underneath. The agents must fight off sympathetic impulses at hearing his tortured background, and Britton plays Kemper's insanity with an Emmy-worthy understatement.
The show is not easy to watch, with much talk of gruesome crimes and demented worldviews, but from a psychological perspective, it offers excellent insight into the complicated nature of police investigation. Cops see the worst the world has to offer, then have to go home at night and live with themselves and their loved ones. They are often in as much need of psychological help as the people they are chasing. Mindhunter gets to the core of what makes people crazy. And there is plenty terrain still to cover. The finale hints toward endless possibilities for continued development of the behavioral science unit, and Ford and Tench are worth following for many more episodes. A release for season two has not been announced yet, but I look forward to continuing on the dark journey.