Just because you can doesn’t mean you should
Continuing on with my newfound way to legitimise the amount of content I watch on streaming services, I’ve turned my attention to the latest Number 1 TV show on Netflix — Monsters, The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story. I’ve decided to write about it as a way of trying to make sense of why this show is currently ranked number 1 in Australia, and what it brought up for me as a psychiatrist.
But before I go any further, I’ll do what the creators of this TV show didn’t do at all, and absolutely should have done. I’m adding a content warning.
Please don’t read this article if you find watching or reading content about childhood abuse or suicide may be detrimental to your mental health or well-being. If you do find this occurs after reading this article, please seek help.
I sat through the series depicting a version of what went down at the Menendez house back in 1989. At the end of the day, none of us really know why Lyle and Erik Menendez killed their parents. I have no idea whether or not they were abused by their parents. Because what I watched was entertainment, not a case presentation, or a synthesis of facts I would be privy to in my clinical work. However, after watching it, I am at a loss to understand why such a show is ranking so highly in Australia right now. Or why true crime podcasts outrank most other topics. Perhaps it is as simple as the fact that humans are intrigued by what other humans do. Even when what they did was as violent as it can get.
Some years back, I wrote about the damage that can occur when viewers are triggered to remember details of past events or dwell on their current mindset and when they are not informed about the content of a show or movie. Netflix were culprits of this when they produced “13 Reasons Why” in 2017, and it seems they haven’t learnt a thing about the backlash from then. Fundamentally, just because they can make a series about childhood abuse without any regard for the viewer or opportunity to tune out, doesn’t mean they should.
I watched the scenes where both Lyle and Erik Menendez disclosed details of childhood physical, sexual and emotional abuse to their lawyer. As a seasoned consultant psychiatrist, who has heard similar disclosures countless times, I was horrified by the details that were included in their description, and as far as the Netflix production depicts, their legitimisation of why it led to murdering their parents. The details were raw and gory, and actually quite authentic. They matched up with disclosures I have heard, as a trained professional with supports to help me ultimately treat the person in front of me. I know I need these strategies to ensure I minimise the chances of experiencing vicarious traumatisation. In addition, the script contained details of abuse with way too much grist for the mill and won’t be repeated here as I just don’t think that is safe and necessary to make my point.
After watching the series, I also have a particular twist on who I deemed to be the ‘monster’ in this show. To me, it was the depiction of the therapist, Dr Jerome Oziel. I don’t know this therapist, and I’m unsure if they are a psychiatrist or psychologist as the two professions’ titles are used interchangeably in my research. Obviously from my point of view, there is a huge difference, but to the lay watcher probably not. I’ll explain why I took particular offence about the therapist’s behaviour as it was portrayed in the series. And that’s the therapist as depicted in the series, just to be clear.
According to the series, the Menendez brothers were sent to see Dr Oziel as a part of a court order. The series begins with Erik Menendez confessing to the murder of his parents in a therapy session with Dr Oziel. The first concern I had was Dr Oziel’s pattern of changing his role and allegiance according to who turned up for the appointment and their motives. Specifically, he went along with the insistence of the father to wrap up the session and not delve into the minds of his sons. Even with my trained eye, I was unsure who he bore responsibility to, but it did appear that the most powerful and vocal person in the room invariably won out on the day.
Dr Oziel’s first responsibility was to the court and the legal process when he took on the brothers as part of a court order. When Erik Menendez contacted him after the murders, he assumed the role of his individual therapist. When Lyle rocked up, he breached confidentiality about what Erik said. When he realised the boys were confessing to a murder he switched his tape recorder on. When things got too messy for him, he called his mistress to come and help. And ultimately, she was the one to disclose details to the police.
I guess the most concerning part of all was that confessions were kept confidential by Dr Oziel. To clarify, I am duty-bound to breach confidentiality if any content mentioned in a session with me contains threats to harm, or actual admissions of harm. The duty arises from a case in the US whereby a psychologist did not disclose the intentions of one of their patients to kill a university student named Tatiana Tarasoff. Known as the Tarasoff case, the findings have guided our obligations to breach confidentiality if we presume somebody is in danger. The Tarasoff case rulings occurred in the US in 1976, 13 years before the Menendez brothers killed their parents.
Now I suppose one could argue that the murders have already occurred by the time Erik Menendez confesses to them with Dr Oziel, and therefore, obviously the parents are no longer in danger. But, I don’t know, a murder is a murder, and if somebody tells me they are capable of it, and have actually followed through, I’d consider that police would need to know. Instead, Dr Oziel told his mistress and convinced the brothers to return while he recorded their sessions for what appeared to be personal gain. He would breach confidentiality but not in the way that he was obligated to.
The other concerning theme for me was the various forms of abuse portrayed in the storyline. In the series, Lyle and Erik stated they were victims of severe and repeated childhood abuse. It was depicted that Erik Menendez was a victim of abuse at the hands of his brother Lyle. But ultimately what happened next? They were abused by an authority figure they chose to tell. Their confessions were used for the therapist’s perceived personal gain. And ultimately the recordings he obtained led them to their downfall, and life imprisonment for their crimes.
So when you ask this psychiatrist about what they thought of the show, it’s not going to be whether or not I believe the boys were abused. Instead, it’s about the overarching need to adhere to the ethical and legal principles that must guide our psychiatry practice, and what can happen spectacularly when we don’t. I’d also love to start a conversation about why psychiatrists are often portrayed in the media as the medical specialists who don’t do this repeatedly.
Dr Helen Schultz is based in Melbourne, Australia. She is a consultant psychiatrist and professional writer, and writes about the portrayal of psychiatry int he media and the reflections of characters depicted in roles that are often so popular in the content we love to consume.
