The idea of exploring the mind of a killer is nothing new in TV or film. And in many ways, Mindhunter (now on Netflix) does employ familiar tropes found in detective dramas as it follows two FBI agents working to understand what makes psychosexual murderers tick. But what sets the series apart — aside from phenomenal acting and David Fincher’s direction — is that it’s set in the 1970s, when psychological profiling was just a cutting-edge theory and the term “serial killer” didn’t even exist in the recognizable sense that it does today.
Young FBI agent Holden Ford (Jonathan Groff) and his veteran partner Bill Tench (Holt McCallany) teach criminology to local police across the country. It’s a classic pairing — new to the agency, forward-thinking Ford is quick to develop innovative teaching methods often snuffed out by his superiors, while the experienced Tench has an excellent track record and an established relationship with their boss. It’s not necessarily good cop-bad cop, though they do play that role to some success when interviewing killers and suspects. Ford has great ideas but a one-track mind. He needs help finessing them into something a little more palatable for their boss to OK, which is where Tench shines.
This is how they get approval to interview convicted killers to try to gain insight into some of the most unexplainable crimes. One by one, we meet creepy, cringe-inducing criminals — all based on actual ’70s sadists, like the genius giant Ed Kemper. The casting and costuming is spot-on when you see the real-life killers they play (in fact, nearly all Mindhunter characters are fictionalized versions of real figures).
While Ford and Tench have different approaches, they share a common goal. There’s a great dynamic between the two characters — and actors — as they push for their work to be legitimized. They’re asked to prove their theories without having permission to do what it takes to gather this information. The red tape of bureaucracy often forces them to take two steps back after each step forward. But little by little, the duo gain more credibility within the FBI and get closer to each killer they interview.
As their tiny Behavioral Science Unit of two grows to include both an inexperienced agent hired to transcribe interviews and help around their tiny basement office and an esteemed psychology professor, so do the stakes of the project. In their study of heinous crimes, Ford and Tench become not only the go-to crew to examine incarcerated serial killers, but to investigate any new gruesome murder. Law & Order fans: These guys might be the first Special Victims Unit.
While the hardened Tench has enough going on in the field and in his home life to keep him from dwelling on their disturbing work, the squeaky-clean Ford is deeply affected by his close interactions with these criminals. Unsurprisingly, the more he begins to understand how they think, the more their sinister nature infiltrates his own thoughts. Ford obviously has a keen sense for asking the right questions to get killers to shed light into their messed-up reasoning, but he becomes obsessive.
Compelling storytelling gives Mindhunter binge-watching potential, but the cinematic quality begs for viewers to savor the details. Executive producer Fincher directs several episodes, his camera style pulling us in as it moves with each character. The subject matter is familiar territory for him, having directed Se7en and Zodiac, both of which are about serial killers.
One questionable element threaded into each episode is a mysterious character presented with very little context. These scenes feature an ADT serviceman (which is how he’s credited — he’s still unnamed) who certainly seems sinister, though we never see his potential crimes. We’re teased into thinking he’ll be the culprit each time Ford and Tench are faced with a new murder, but the connection is never made and left dangling through the season finale. Certainly this will be explored more in Season 2, for which Mindhunter has already been renewed.
Mindhunter absolutely has long-term potential with its ample source material. After all, in Ed Kemper’s eerie words, “There’s a lot more like me.”
Contact Jac Kern: @jackern
This article appears in Oct 25 – Nov 1, 2017.