Murphy’s new Monster: The Lizzie Borden story 

Monster: The Lizzie Borden Story, released onto Netflix on 17 September 2026, was immediately flooded with mixed reviews. People were distraught with the show, complaining that it was way too ‘camp’ and glaringly inaccurate to the facts of the real-life Lizzie Borden case. But despite all this, Ryan Murphy and Ian Brennan, creators of the show, certainly made some incredibly brave creative choices that enhanced the series, so if you enjoy a bloodbath of a story with an imaginative twist, this is indeed the series for you! 

This season of Monster follows the life of Lizzie Borden, a real woman with a real case, that is still questioned to this day. She is viewed as dim-witted by her mother, and her father struggles to deal with the “stench of oestrogen” within the Borden household. However, with the introduction of the family’s seventh maid, Bridget “Maggie” Sullivan, we can see how intelligent Lizzie truly is, and even more so with the company and friendship of Bridget. The series shows the ever-growing tension that breeds each day in the Borden’s home, eventually reaching a boiling point. This brings us to the violent conclusion of the series and the struggle for Lizzie to prove her innocence, where the directors bring in the story of another killer, Aileen Wuornos, who took inspiration from this case.

The acting in this show was impeccable, to say the least. Ella Beatty, the actress who played Borden herself, had made her debut to the film scene in the A24 Drama If I had Legs, I’d Kick You, and from there nailed her role in the Lizzie Borden story. She perfectly presented the character of Lizzie Borden, while simultaneously adding her own personal flare to it. She manages to portray a beautifully blended image of an oppressed woman, subject to her stepmother’s ridicule and her father’s haplessness, who transforms into a killer, cold and ruthless.

Alongside Beatty, every other actor in this story flawlessly curated the picture of a troubled family, with Rebecca Hall, as Abby Borden, playing the antagonist. Hall’s presentation of Mrs Borden gives way for an incredibly ambiguous character, perfect for any TV nerds who love to not know whether to be on a character’s side or not. In this season, Abby Borden is an abhorrent person, but she can also be understood as a woman who is subject to the ideology of motherhood, projecting her wishes for a peaceful life onto her stepdaughter, Lizzie, and in return getting an axe to the face.  

Then comes the return of Charlie Hunnam, who starred in the previous Monster season as killer Ed Gein, playing the useless father who refuses to acknowledge the tension within the home. The recycling of past monsters, especially one of the most infamous killers that Monster has brought to light, is a brilliant way the series forces the audience to immediately associate Andrew Borden with evil, as a precursor to the revelation of his character later in this series. 

Vicky Krieps, however, sheds light on the stylistic signature that Murphy and Brennan often include. Krieps’ portrayal of Bridget “Maggie” Sullivan is the best way in which these two directors could have tied their flare for tracing their primary narratives back to stories of the past, and into the future, while serving as a character in their own right.

Interestingly, Murphy and Brennan cleverly tie other stories into the main one of focus throughout most of the other Monster seasons, such as addressing killer Ed Gein’s influence on Hitchcock in the creation of Psycho. This continues in Lizzie’s season, as they incorporate the infamous killer Aileen Wuornos, played by Sarah Paulson. These two narratives are blended together throughout, directly seen in one episode where Aileen visits the Borden’s house and we see Murphy’s signature dance scene, here a cinematically ethereal dance to ‘Smalltown Boy’.  

Bringing together these two stories was genius, both reflecting the historical impact of Lizzie Borden’s story and exploring the historical legacy of ‘female rage’. The show shines a spotlight on two women in history who have experienced much criticism simply for being female, as well as being killers. Both women have killed to be free, and the directors manage to incorporate the repetition of history in a very creative and harmonious way.

It’s aesthetic, clever, and purely brilliant in its exploration of female rage and the outbursts of violence that derive from being overlooked and punished for merely wanting freedom.

★★★★ ½