The centerpiece scene is a climactic living room sitdown where old wounds are aired out and cried over with bracing lucidity. By the end of that scene (and later after the entire movie), an engrossed and impressed viewer could fill a clipboard or two tally-marking the scoring balance between earnest apologies against attempted and failed compromises. These exposed fractures in His Three Daughters are fascinating in their complication and frankness beyond the typical grief management narratives. No one ever said catharsis was easy to acquire, and that is the case here.
Read MoreAs a feature film, Boston Strangler finds itself buried in the massive snowbank of true crime content available. Eager viewers have a buffet of binge-able rabbit holes, available in long and short forms, on dozens of channels and platforms at home. Held up against that docu-drama marketplace, a traditional two-hour fictionalized yarn playing in theaters feels nearly trite and tame by comparison, even if it dabbles with and challenges a theory or two about who really perpetrated these murders.
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