How I got brain rot: Watching true crime shows

Call it Netflix and Kill. True crime shows on this platform are slowly but surely murdering the part of the brain that stores resistance. Such shows serve little purpose, say the same thing in different ways, and violate the rules of documentary filmmaking in egregious ways.

Yet, many such series litter my list of saved titles. Cases revolving around serial killers, missing women, murderers at large, scamsters, victims of wrongful convictions – they gobble up precious hours that would have been better spent on brain-nurturing activities.

I know too much about Ted Bundy or Indrani Mukerjea than is good for my health – but in fact, even after devouring shows about them, I know next to little about why they did what they did.

The format of the true crime docuseries itself is off-putting. Firstly, there is the length. Where an hour or two would do are several episodes.

The shows begin in the same irritating way. A frenetically edited montage summarises the main theme, which is set to ominous music. A significant remark or two by characters who are clearly mugging for the camera is made. The statements invariably include the most obvious one: “I have never seen a case like this in my entire life/career.”

The show then adopts a suspenseful style...

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