Devil in Disguise: John Wayne Gacy

Much like David Fincher's Zodiac, the miniseries is fully honest with its depictions in a way that can be emotionally draining to process. But if one can get past that and is engaged enough with the writing and excellent performances to stick with it, they'll find a magnificent adaptation of one of America's biggest monsters.

Macmanus expertly weaves in how Gacy was brought to justice and highlights both the dogged determination of those involved with the law — detective Rafael Tover (Gabriel Luna) and prosecutor Bill Kunkle (Chris Sullivan) — as well as how the system failed to stop Gacy before. It adds depth and context, but it is the overwhelming sadness over how Gacy robbed these boys and young men of their futures that hits the hardest.

Ultimately, the show is less about one man’s monstrosity than the silence that fostered it. In a television landscape that keeps packaging murder as entertainment, that refusal to glorify may be the boldest choice of all.

Devil in Disguise makes a lot of unexpected choices that set it apart both from the Monster franchise and typical true-crime genre fare.

John Wayne Gacy is certainly more empathetic of Gacy’s victims and their families than many other serial killer dramatic series have been. The approach is enhanced by Michael Chernus’ excellent portrayal of Gacy.

The series’ pacing is uneven in spots and its messaging about media and law enforcement’s bias against the lifestyles of Gacy’s victims can feel a bit repetitive, but overall it tells a compelling story about one of the darkest chapters in America’s crime archives.

There’s a well-articulated sense of why we’re revisiting one of the most picked-over, thoroughly covered killing sprees of the 20th century, and what the series wants to say about the people and events it depicts. That quality is missing from so much true crime it’s worth praising, whatever flaws emerge in the telling.

As considerate as such ventures get. Even with regards to its fiend, it proves more interested in understanding his madness than deriving boogeyman scares from it.

It isn’t completely effective, but it’s substantive and avoids sensationalizing one of the most sensational cases of the 20th century. I’d call it “bordering on worthwhile” in a genre too oversaturated for anything to be “necessary.” Some bloodthirsty audiences will call it “dull.”

We’ll never know the total number of Gacy’s victims, but the story teaches us enough to know the true weight of prejudice and bigotry.