Not just another 'murder mystery'

'Gone Girls: The Long Island Serial Killer' is one directorial venture from Liz Garbus, streaming on 'Netflix', that isn’t your typical, run-of-the-mill action thriller that culminates with the protagonist emerging victorious over an obviously wicked antihero. Instead, Emmy-nominated filmmaker Garbus pulls off a thought-provoking, feminine-focused coup of heartache and woes with 'The Long Island Serial Killer'. She masterfully juxtaposes an everyday true-crime docuseries into a genre oversaturated with flashy re-enactments and psychologically charged profiles of perpetrators. Quite touching. Eminently binge-worthy. And absolutely stimulating.

The treatment and approach taken up by Garbus in the three-part docuseries are radically different - the stories centre around women who lost their lives, their grieving families and the inherent failures in the system that allowed their killer to operate unchecked. The overall result is a haunting, meditative and socially conscious three-part documentary that goes beyond telling you the story of a murder and its aftermath. The series indicts the institutions and cultural biases that created the systemic failures in the first place.

The story begins with a chilling 911 call from 24-year-old Shannan Gilbert. Set in 2010 in Oak Beach, Long Island, she pleads with the dispatchers in a terrified voice: "They’re trying to kill me." Despite her obvious distress, the law enforcers are quick to dismiss the case, declaring her death an accidental drowning. But her family, especially her mother Mari, refuses to accept this. What follows is a discovery that shocks even hardened investigators - the remains of multiple women along the Gilgo coastline. Many missing for years. Most have been sex workers. And a system that failed them.

Garbus' previous credits include 'Lost Girls' in 2020. Incidentally, this was also based on the same case and 'Gone Girls' marks her return through a documentary lens. This time, the dramatics are stripped bare. The only thing that hits you in the face and every sinew is dark reality. The damning truth. Using interviews with journalists, former investigators and the victims’ families, 'Gone Girls' displays a vivid portrait of apathy, even misogynistic neglect.

What led to the hurried findings of the law enforcement team that worked on the case? Leads were ignored. Tips discarded. Critical evidence was overlooked or mishandled. Why? Because the women were sex workers. Because they all came from working-class, marginalised backgrounds. Because society and the justice system did not find them worth saving.

Easily the most powerful element of this docuseries is Garbus' refusal to sensationalise. She doesn't let viewers psychoanalyse the alleged killer (though his 2023 arrest is covered), nor does she ask them to voyeuristically dissect the crimes. Instead, she makes her viewers a part of the show, inviting them to understand the victims. They were people. Daughters. Sisters. Mothers. Their lives were devalued long before being killed. The families, many of whom became amateur investigators themselves, speak with painful clarity of the uphill battle they faced to have their loved ones taken seriously.

Garbus skillfully balances storytelling with ethical filmmaking. She uses archival audio from Shannan's 911 call, never exploiting it for shock but letting its rawness linger. The cinematography is sombre, grounded in muted tones that reflect the emotional weight of the subject matter. Crime scene photos and real news clippings add texture, but they're not overbearing or in your face. They are used sparingly; a clear signal is sent out that neither the lives lost nor the docuseries itself are a spectacle. The emotional core lies in the interviews, which are intimate and unsettling. Viewers are not just turned into witnesses to a crime, but also to institutional betrayal.

An intrinsic part of the docuseries is the exploration of bias. The series asks uncomfortable questions. Would the case have received more urgency had the victims been average professionals instead of sex workers? Would the media and police have mobilised faster if there had been women from affluent neighbourhoods? The questions are never answered definitively. They don’t have to be. The implied truth is laid bare in every frame. In its silence, the inaction speaks volumes.

In an interview with 'TIME', Garbus herself noted: "A documentary allows you to walk in other people’s shoes. The more that we walk thus, the more we can have empathy for them, the more we are connected in a society." This belief underpins the series. 'Gone Girls' doesn’t just inform. It builds empathy. It forces a confrontation of assumptions. Who decides which stories should be told and whose lives are worthy of justice?

Some may find the series lacking in traditional investigative breakthroughs - as no new evidence is uncovered and the identity of Shannan Gilbert's killer remains unresolved. But then, that wasn't the mission to begin with. Instead, the docuseries offers a well-researched, emotionally resonant account of what happens when societal indifference becomes instituted policy. Even Shannan's cause of death, still labelled as 'an accident' by the authorities, is treated with scepticism. Garbus doesn’t insist on conspiracy, but she doesn't excuse incompetence either.

From a technical standpoint, the pacing is deliberate, allowing the weight of each revelation to settle in. This may challenge binge-watchers used to the adrenaline rush of rapid-fire revelations. But for those willing to sit with discomfort, the series rewards viewers with a deeper, more enduring impact. It encourages reflection, not consumption.

Beyond being a true-crime chronicle, 'Gone Girls' is a social commentary, one that challenges long-standing stigmas about sex work, gender-based violence and classism. It highlights how certain lives are dismissed and how hard families must fight for even a shred of justice. In some ways, this is a story of grief. It is also a narrative about resilience, especially that of women like Mari Gilbert, whose advocacy was instrumental in reopening the investigation.

Even after watching the final part of the series, you're not left with a sense of closure. Instead, you’re left with outrage, sorrow and questions that linger longer than any twist could. Could this have been prevented? How many more like Shannan have slipped through the cracks? What does it say about a society that only pays attention when the body count rises too high to ignore?

Final Verdict: 

'Gone Girls: The Long Island Serial Killer' isn’t just a documentary. It is a quiet revolution within the true-crime genre. It rejects exploitation and sensationalism in favour of empathy, accountability and truth. It offers no easy resolutions, but it does something more important - it gives the voiceless a voice, and it forces us to listen. Whether you are a true-crime aficionado or someone seeking a more meaningful viewing experience, 'Gone Girls' demands your attention. This isn’t because it is easy to watch. It isn't. It is because it is necessary to watch and understand.