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Blame Hannibal Lecter for the release of this repellent recreation of the true story that inspired "Psycho", "The Texas Chain Saw Massacre", and "The Silence of the Lambs". Had Anthony Hopkins's cultured cannibal not made such an indelible impression, we might have been spared Chuck Parello's gross and unsettling profile of his real-life predecessor, whose grisly deeds entered local folklore while sending shockwaves through Eisenhower-era America.
The eponymous Gein was a hermitic handyman from Plainfield, Wisconsin who grew up under the thumb of his domineering, fanatically religious mother. When she died, her son gradually developed an unhealthy interest in female anatomy that led to grave-robbing, mutilation, and ultimately murder.
By the time he was finally apprehended, his dilapidated farmhouse had become a ghastly museum containing a horrific collection of human remains and garments fashioned from female skin. It is to Parello's credit that his film does not linger on such ugly details, but the question remains why this deeply disturbed individual - who was later diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic and spent the rest of his days locked up in a mental hospital - deserves to have a docudrama built around him?
Parello's stated intention is to explore the psychology of his twisted protagonist, but the result has all the hallmarks a low-budget exploitationer, right down to its B-movie leads Steve Railsback and Carrie Snodgress. Would it be too much to expect some thought or consideration for Gein's victims? Evidently so, given Hollywood's depressing habit of turning serial killers into cult heroes.
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