4: 'Conversations with a Killer: The Ted Bundy Tapes'- Review/Thoughts

Netflix’s ‘Conversations with a Killer: The Ted Bundy Tapes’ documentary doesn’t really tell you anything new. We know what Bundy did; we also know how psychopathic and narcistic he was in doing it. However, the series does act as a blistering reminder of how he could get away with it and how the tropes of a ‘serial killer’ have been wholly absorbed into our culture.

The actual monologues of Bundy (they can’t be called conversations as there’s very little response from Michaud, the journalist interviewing him) are undeniably interesting but not particularly illuminating. This is primarily because Bundy takes control of the situation and shapes the recording to his own desires: that is, making himself out to be much more “normal” and intelligent than everyone else. However, when we hear how he discusses his actions in the third person, it’s much easier to see how he manipulated others- he comes across as a man acting at an intellectual remove from everything, when what he describes is sado-masochistic sexual torture. The anger and aggression come through only rarely, but when they do it is shocking and the viewer is suddenly reminded that this articulate, engaging man brutally murdered upwards of 30 women. This is Bundy promoting himself and casting himself as a golden boy, to the extent where he also defends himself in court because he believes himself to be better than his defence. It feels as if he killed, at least in part, so he could fulfil his dream of becoming a lawyer.

This golden boy image links to another documentary bubbling beneath the surface of this one: one of constant police failings. This is linked primarily to the difficulties of sharing information in a pre-digital world, as a number of the featured police detectives mention, but also due to the perception of Bundy as a bit of a scamp. His charm and good looks seem to have manipulated nearly everyone, from the sheriff who laughs when he escapes to the guards who see him as so harmless he’s able to make 2 escape attempts. Therefore what comes across is a portrait of how belief in “upstanding citizens” prevent criminals from being caught, and how social perceptions can easily blind people to the truth.

However, the documentary doesn’t shy away from portraying Bundy as a sick psychopath. Crime scene photos, whilst perhaps unnecessarily gruesome, emphasise the human cost of his murders and contrast so totally with his speeches on tape that the audience is never allowed to forget the gap between Bundy’s perception of reality and the truth. In contrast the real kicker of the piece is towards the end of episode 4, when we briefly hear a clip of Bundy describing decapitating one of his victims and asking, softly, ‘can you hear me?’- the viewer gets the sense that this was the true Bundy and is unnerved by the unemotional qualities of his speech. Although these tapes must contain truly gruesome events/phrases, it might have been more in the documentary’s interest to use more of these, as the other tapes really only present Bundy’s narcissistic view of himself, and so play to his overwhelming desire for attention and fame. These other tapes reveal the truth, however hard it may be, preventing the glory and admiration Ted Bundy clearly craved.

Nevertheless the documentary, along with the upcoming Zac Efron-led biopic, can be seen as lauding Bundy as much as condemning him. Both the documentary and the film seem to see his ability to escape and evade capture as admirable if incredibly morally wrong- the film’s trailer in particular focusing on Bundy as a kind of anti-hero and perhaps forgetting the very real things he did.  This might be partly due to the length of time since the murders, but also suggest a very real problem with the “true crime” genre- a tendency to be as hypnotised and drawn in by the subject, preventing an objective critical gaze.

Therefore, whilst the documentary clearly portrays Bundy as depraved and highlights how the authorities let him get away with it for so long, it tends to fall too much in Bundy and his own voice, fulfilling his desire for the limelight that was such an integral part of his crimes.