Written by Olivia Peters, Arts Staff Writer
It all started with “Law and Order: SVU,” a classic show that’s now in its 22nd season. I stumbled upon it late one night back when I still relied on cable television and found that my interest peaked after only a couple of episodes. Cut to about six years later, and my true crime obsession still has not plateaued.
I’d classify any book, podcast, movie or television show that is somewhat based off of real crime as true crime entertainment. The industry has boomed in the 21st century as consumer engagement with the genre has skyrocketed.
There are some people who feel that watching true crime programming is unethical. They argue that it may incite violent acts or thoughts that otherwise wouldn’t exist. Others claim that true crime is exploitive to victims’ privacy, and in some ways, I understand how people could think that true crime glorifies these horrendous deeds by making them into feature films.
Still, I engage with some form of true crime entertainment almost every day while doing the most mundane things, like cleaning or unwinding. No matter what form it’s in — binge watching “Criminal Minds,” viewing the Epstein documentaries, reading “The Silent Patient” from cover to cover, or listening to “Crime Junkie” on Spotify — nothing holds my attention and fascination quite as much as true crime.
Part of me isn’t proud of my interest. In the past, I’ve wondered if there’s something wrong with me or if I’m doing wrong by supporting an industry that profits off of people’s worst fears and experiences. My favorite podcast, “My Favorite Murder,” helps to put some of my self-doubt into perspective.
“My Favorite Murder” is hosted by Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark and cross listed as humor and crime. On one of the first occasions that I listened to it, the hosts explained their overall mission: to craft a community and to help them cope with some of the scariest things imaginable through humor. I related to this message so deeply that I became a fan for life.
Horrendous crimes and serial killings are unfathomable to me, as they are to most others. Our minds can’t fully process the horror. My worst fears involve being overpowered by a man or having my family taken away from me by a murderer. Listening to Kilgariff and Hardstark give accounts of true crime with witty commentary — as well as historical social injustice and letters written into the show — helps me to reframe the unthinkable and to sit more comfortably with my fears.
On long drives, I’ll put the podcast on and prepare myself to gasp alongside the hosts in disbelief, or cry together at survivors’ stories. When listening to their podcast, I feel that I’m a stronger and more calculating person. I am able to think through my fears and I am more alert and confident as a result.
The options among true crime entertainment are unending. Regularly engaging with the genre is definitely a dangerous and dark wormhole to go down; however, for many of us “Murderinos,” as Kilgariff and Hardstark would say, it’s not merely about entertainment but about education in awareness and self defense. I’m glad that true crime entertainment has lifted the veil of small town ignorance from my worldview, and I don’t see my obsession stopping any time soon.
