Gone Again

This past weekend, a six-part documentary mini-series on HBO concluded: I'll Be Gone in the Dark, based on the true crime book of the same name by Michelle McNamara. I was quite drawn into the book, and equally interested in seeing this television adaptation of the material.

As a documentary, I'll Be Gone in the Dark is both the same and not the same as the book it ostensibly adapts. Certainly, it still revolves around the crimes of the Golden State Killer, and McNamara's own amateur investigations to attempt to solve the case. Both view the case with a sensitivity and empathy for the victims, striking a tone that feels neither exploitative nor sensational; you're meant to understand the people these things happened to, not merely the fact that they happened.

Beyond that, there's a lot of divergence between book and documentary, largely due to the developments in the case since the book was written. For one, although McNamara passed away during the writing of the book, most of the material in its pages is still her original work. The documentary, however, was created entirely after her death, and makes McNamara even more of a "character" in the story than she did originally. It tracks her fascination with true crime and with the Golden State Killer in particular, dives more into the personal connections she developed with others involved, and presents the case that her own dogged determination may have played a key role in keeping people motivated to find the killer.

Extensive interviews with McNamara's husband, Patton Oswalt, with detectives from different jurisdictions who worked the case, and with other "citizen detectives" serve to tell you as much (if not more) about the author of the book than about the crimes she was researching. Book excerpts and journal entries are read dramatically by actress Amy Ryan. Just as much time is given to McNamara's own untimely death as any of the murders committed by the GSK. Her friends and family express their loss -- a different kind of loss, but a powerful one nonetheless.

Second, the Golden State Killer has been captured since the publication of the book. The final episode of the six-part documentary provides extensive detail on the man, his history, and his criminal timeline. But, in keeping with the overall emphasis on the victims, GSK himself doesn't overwhelm the final installment. Instead, we get interviews with his family, people with mourning another kind of loss -- that of the man they thought they knew.

Third, that confluence of the book's publication and the killer's capture has compelled more survivors of the GSK's crimes to speak out publicly. Women who were named only by pseudonym in McNamara's original book are now willing to go on camera and tell their own stories about what happened to them. People who have remained silent until now have decided to go on camera here for the first time. Put simply, there is more to the overall story.

I hope that it doesn't diminish McNamara's original work to say that this documentary series may have surpassed it. But in truth, the two really work as two parts of a whole, approaching the material in very different ways to paint a whole, gripping picture. It is, of course, not an easy watch, but it is one that will stay with me for some time. I give the documentary an A-.