I'd watch anything with Lena Headey (in her company, sure, but what I mean is anything in which she appears), which explains what I was doing at a midtown Manhattan movie theater at 3 pm on Saturday, June 8, waiting for The Purge to roll. Variety tells us this "micro-budgeted scarer ... screamed into theaters with a fantastic $36.4 million domestic start, outdoing even the most ambitious expectations in the $20 million range." I'm telling you The Purge—Lena Headey or not—is a mess. The title of the film—set in America in the year 2022—references the annual 
government-imposed twelve-hour period during which all crimes—including murder—are sanctioned and unpunishable, in what has turned out to be a phenomenally successful initiative to reduce transgressive behavior over the remaining 8,753.81277 hours of the year.
The Purge may be conceptually sci-fi, but at its core it's stalker-in-the-house, and the most unsettling aspect of my viewing experience was the raucous cheering from the gallery every time one of the intruders got their comeuppance, and by that I mean blown-away, stabbed, or axed to death. Something about applauding the brutality of humankind—self-defense or not—disquiets me. If your thirteen-year-old daughter has plans to see this film, like mine, my advice is, "No way, kidd-o" (channeling Christian Shephard here).
So where am I going with this? Somewhere, trust me, though probably not where you think - I've no new insights into the implications of film and television violence for society. But my Purge experience was fresh in my mind two days later when reading Neil Genzlinger's New York Times review of the BBC2's The Fall, newly available on Netflix, which, as it happens, I had just viewed myself (I'd watch anything with Gillian Anderson). The Fall follows Detective Superintendent Stella Gibson (Anderson), summoned to Belfast, Northern Ireland, to galvanize a murder investigation; in a blink of the eye she establishes that the slaying is the work of a serialist. Genzlinger deems The Fall, "worth a look if you haven't had your fill of cat-and-mouse dynamics. If, on the other hand, you're watching more than two serial-killer series already and feel the need for more, you may want to ask yourself what this says about you."
Uh-oh.
My serial-killer-series count is now up to three—The Fall (season two to come), AMC's The Killing, and NBC's Hannibal (though I draw the line at Dexter). What does that say about me? Am I every bit as sanguinary as the Purge crowd?
Prowling for answers, I turned of course to the Internet (despite persistent fear the FBI would show up at my doorstep, demand my hard drive, and shackle me in chains—yes, I've PRISM on the brain). You know how people caution you never to research medical symptoms on the Internet? Ditto for serial killers. I happened upon a thread titled "I Find Serial Killers Fascinating," with the following post: "Merry Christmas Charles Manson! A few years ago I decided to send Charles Manson a Christmas card. I did it, didn't really think about it, and got no reply. I hadn't expected one." Perhaps if you had wished him a happy Hanukah or Kwanza instead?
There's no shortage of clinical or scholarly explication for our fascination with serial murderers. Within minutes I discovered two college papers; one from Stanford, one from Wesleyan (no slouches there). David Schmid, author of Natural Born Celebrities: Serial Killers in American Culture, argues that: "The existence of famous serial killers in contemporary American culture brings together two defining features of American modernity: stardom and violence." I like that. Schmid posits that, "By either killing the serial murderer or suggesting that the true source of villainy lies elsewhere, these films let their audiences off the hook, letting them enjoy the fame of serial killers within a moralistic framework that relieves them of pursuing the implications of that enjoyment." Some audiences, maybe, but not me.
Pushing on, I discovered the website of Dr. Scott Bonn, professor of criminology, media expert, public speaker, media analyst and commentator, and author, who seems to have carved a career out of being a serial-killer expert. Bonn posits that: "Serial killers elicit a morbid fascination from us that we also have for terrible calamites such as train wrecks and natural disasters. Simply put, we are compelled to understand why serial killers do such horrible things to complete strangers."
Actor Kevin Bacon, aka Ryan Hardy on The Following, Fox's entry in the serial-killer sweepstakes, made a similar point at the June 4 event at the Paley Center; turns out Bacon has himself long been fascinated by serial killers and cults, and here's why:
I hesitate to do this, but here's an interview with Richard Ramirez, the recently deceased Night Stalker, on YouTube from Bonn's site. It makes me feel so, I don't know, complicit ... and on the hook.