Why do serial killers confess to their crimes unnecessarily in movies?

While investigating a case in the first few minutes of the Telugu murder mystery HIT 2 , Krishna Dev ( Adivi Sesh ), a cop, seems aloof and, dare I say, even arrogant to a certain degree. His arrogance stems from the knowledge that he’s above criminals who think they can get away with murder. But, every once in a while, the cops may find themselves at rock bottom. What if the criminals are smarter than the people who are chasing them? Thrillers are usually framed around this idea and, sure enough, Dev encounters a stumbling block as soon as he’s given the responsibility of catching a serial killer. [caption id=“attachment_11784241” align=“alignnone” width=“640”] HIT 2[/caption] Generally, serial killers make for interesting subjects. If the stories are handled perfectly, they can keep the viewers guessing – and biting their nails – until the climactic showdown. However, there’s one particular narrative device that has never sat well with me. Allow me to set the stage first. In a whodunit, you’ll be mostly interested in connecting the invisible dots. If you get the identity of the killer right as the tale progresses, you’ll jump for joy. And if you don’t, at least you’ll have the satisfaction of throwing your hat into the ring. What’s the point, then, of making the killer reveal his intentions unnecessarily? It’s a bad egg that’s placed in the middle of a movie only to get the question behind the “why” out of the way. Shouldn’t the prize for solving the mystery be rewarded by having the cops (or the leads) put an end to the mess? In the Netflix release, _Monica, O My Darling (2022)_ , the madcap killer overpowers the protagonist and gives a list of reasons for eliminating his enemies. Why would anybody, who’s already in a stronger position, spill the beans to a person he’s about to kill? [caption id=“attachment_11784261” align=“alignnone” width=“640”] Monica, O My Darling[/caption] If that is somewhat silly, you must remember that the villain, in the Kannada blockbuster _Kantara (2022)_ , launches into a monologue in front of his son to express the evil deeds he has committed. Even when nobody suspects him of murder, the camera turns towards him to show us that he’s indeed the murderer. Although there’s a wide difference between Monica, O My Darling and Kantara, the scenes that are centered on the revelations are almost dull to the same extent. Why would a baddie feel the need to paint himself as the baddie? [caption id=“attachment_11784291” align=“alignnone” width=“640”] Kantara[/caption] This happens in the Telugu thriller Yashoda (2022), too, and it carries the unbearable burden of being the weakest among them all. The antagonists (a couple) tell the protagonist (and, therefore, the viewers) how they built an empire on the bones of women who stepped forward to become surrogate mothers. Again, why would some money-hungry beasts invite a stranger to dig into their immorality? This device cuts the excitement down to a confession and directly puts a face to the despicability. It’s an exercise in laziness that takes away the ability of the filmmaker to surprise us. If the killers are the ones that do the heavy lifting, people won’t pat the detectives on their backs. In the British slasher film Peeping Tom (1960), the protagonist, who doubles up as the killer, states his preferred method of killing to the woman he loves before sacrificing himself for his art – he’s a photographer who takes pictures while attacking women with a spike that’s attached to the leg of a tripod. The other sub-genres in the crime family can, in fact, play with these tropes and still make us root for the primary characters. In Michael Mann’s Heat (1995), the culprits don’t live long enough to see better days, whereas in the Spanish series Money Heist (2017 – 2021), the bank robbers make a successful escape, albeit with the help of the forces involved in the government. [caption id=“attachment_11784301” align=“alignnone” width=“640”] Money Heist[/caption] Kartik Aaryan, in the recently released Hindi movie Freddy, takes revenge against a woman (and her boyfriend) for double-crossing and humiliating him in quite a chilling manner. But he doesn’t come across as a psycho because his personality is that of a charmless fig leaf. [caption id=“attachment_11784311” align=“alignnone” width=“640”] Freddy[/caption] Needless to say, Freddy isn’t treated as a murder mystery. So, the matters related to confession and guilt do not come into the picture. HIT 2 also follows some clichéd patterns. But the villain doesn’t show any enthusiasm to point a finger at himself. It’s definitely refreshing to see this – when the cop finally zeroes in on him, the latter tries to stay ahead of the former. However, the cop comes up with a plan immediately and keeps the deranged killer in conversation in order to buy more time. Given that this kind of confrontation is passe, it’s only the actors that do their best to let the scene reach its zenith. All I’m saying is that murderers need not open up about their inherent vileness on-screen when they’re not being hunted. Writers and directors should invent other devices to keep the suspense as hot as possible and ignore conventionalities for the greater good. Karthik Keramalu is a writer. His works have been published in The Bombay Review, The Quint, Deccan Herald and Film Companion, among others.  Read all the  Latest News ,  Trending News ,  Cricket News ,  Bollywood News ,  India News  and  Entertainment News  here. Follow us on  Facebook,  Twitter and  Instagram.