The Craighlist Killer

The Craigslist Killer case--which found an unsteady ending only five months ago, when Phillip Markoff (Greek's Jake McDorman) committed suicide in his jail cell--reminded us that just because the Internet gives easy access to strangers, it doesn't ensure the emotional stability of its inhabitants. Lifetime's flick primarily takes place in the months leading up to the wedding of Phillip and Megan McAllister (Agnes Bruckner, Private Practice), two bright-eyed med students at Boston University. Their romance seems picture-perfect: After a speedy courtship, they're engaged to be married, with Megan setting up a wedding website complete with countdown and picking out china, while Phillip starts to get serious cold feet. We quickly learn that not only can he not handle his impending nuptials, but that he has a twisted problem with all women. (Perhaps some of the red flags should have been raised by Phillip's non-Millennial behavior: worrying about exclusivity after one kiss, projecting ahead 60 years on the first date.)

Unbeknownst to his fiancée--who is unfortunately portrayed as something of a dumb blonde--he spends late-night sessions with wine and the Erotic Services section of Craigslist. He blows off steam by meeting women at hotels, where he ties them up and steals their panties. But when one woman, Julissa Brisman, fights back, he kills her in a panic. So begins the increasingly violent and reckless behavior that tips off the detective assigned to the case (William Baldwin) to catch Phillip.

Where the Lifetime adaptation of this shocking tale missteps is in the portrayals of its stars. I will say, Phillip gets the more nuanced treatment. His proclivities are not depicted with the same slavering obsession that we saw in the Internet addicts of 2008's Gamer; if anything, he's much cooler about his dependence.
The most affecting sequence is when Baldwin's detective ticks off the list of what makes up their profile, contrasted with images of Phillip doing everything they thought the killer couldn't: Entertaining at parties, holding court over admirers, satisfying his woman. Yet we see that in social situations he suffers flashes of detachment from reality. His only anchor, it seems, is the lurid digital world of anonymous sex: preening for the faceless masses, and making face-to-face transactions. But without any look into his head, and the trauma that must have preceded his psychopathic behavior, we don't get the whole picture.

The character of Megan McAllister is even more underserved. The fact that she staunchly defended Phillip's innocence even as damning evidence came to light could have been thoughtfully explored, but instead we just see a dope--a young woman who by all accounts should have a bright future in the medical field--consistently making a fool of herself. She takes all of his bizarre actions without question; the most sympathy we dredge up for her is when she confronts Phillip in prison, crying and asking, "What did I do?" In this story, nothing much.

The movie also coasts over how easy it is to blame the women killed--for meeting up with a strange man alone, for peddling erotic services. Again, it's a superficial nod at best. "But this is Lifetime," you argue. "We don't need psychoanalysis." True, but when you straddle the spectrum by offering up a serious base with no frills or follow-through, it's tough for the audience to take anything away from it.

In some ways, this is better than most Lifetime movies--better plotted, better (more serious) approach to the subject matter. But that's a tad disappointing, all the same: True-crime stories are often more fun when deliciously over-the-top.