When Netflix dropped American Murder: The Family Next Door in 2020, I stayed up until 3 AM watching it, then spent another hour triple-checking my door locks. The documentary about Chris Watts—who murdered his pregnant wife Shanann and their two adorable daughters in 2018—hit different from other true crime content. Why? Because it wasn’t just another murder story with dramatic reenactments and a narrator with a voice like buttered gravel.
It was all real footage. Text messages. Facebook videos. Police body cams. The raw material of a family’s life—and death.
And it changed everything about how we consume true crime.
The True Crime Landscape: Before Watts Went Viral
Before the Watts case exploded across our screens, true crime media followed a pretty predictable formula. Think Dateline with Keith Morrison’s hypnotic voice guiding you through carefully crafted reenactments, or 48 Hours with its dramatic music cues.
True crime was popular, sure, but it existed in its own little corner of the media universe.
Then came the perfect storm: social media obsession + streaming platforms + a photogenic family + a case that unfolded in real-time. The Watts murders didn’t just become a true crime story—they became the true crime story that transformed the genre.
Why This Case Hit Different (And We Can’t Look Away)
The Watts case grabbed us by the throat for reasons that make perfect psychological sense (even if they make me feel slightly icky for being so fascinated).
First, Shanann documented EVERYTHING on social media. Her pregnancy announcements, family vacations, Chris being “the best dad in the world”—it was all there for us to see. When she and the girls disappeared, we already felt like we knew them.
Second, the interrogation footage of Chris Watts is a masterclass in watching a narcissist crumble. I’ve watched it approximately 47 times, and each viewing reveals new tells. The man had the poker face of a toddler caught eating cookies before dinner.
Third, it happened in a picture-perfect suburban neighborhood that looked like it could be anywhere in America. The “it could happen here” factor was off the charts.
How the Watts Case Transformed True Crime Content
The success of American Murder (which used real footage to chilling effect) sparked a revolution in how true crime stories are told. Suddenly, producers realized audiences wanted the raw, unfiltered reality—not just dramatized versions with actors wearing bad wigs.
The impact rippled across platforms:
1. Documentaries now prioritize authentic footage over reenactments
2. Podcasts incorporate actual interviews and audio recordings
3. YouTube channels dedicated to analyzing real evidence have exploded
4. Social media has become both a source of evidence and a platform for amateur sleuths
For better or worse (mostly worse for my sleep schedule), we’ve entered an era where the line between audience and investigator has blurred. We’re all armchair detectives now, combing through the digital breadcrumbs people leave behind.
The Ethics Question Nobody Wants to Answer
Let’s talk about the elephant in the room that the true crime community loves to ignore: are we exploiting tragedy for entertainment?
When I binge-watched the Watts documentary while eating microwave popcorn, was I honoring Shanann, Bella, and Celeste’s memory—or was I just another ghoul at the tragedy buffet?
The comprehensive research on the Watts family murders shows that the case has been dissected from every possible angle, often without consideration for the victims’ dignity. Shanann’s family has spoken out about their discomfort with certain portrayals, raising important questions about who owns these narratives.
My husband Ryan (who tolerates my murder obsession with the patience of a saint) asked me once: “Would you want strangers discussing your murder over wine and cheese?” Fair point, babe. Fair point.
The Future of True Crime Media: AI and Beyond
As if the ethical questions weren’t complicated enough, we’re now entering an era where AI-powered content generation could create true crime content that blurs fact and fiction even further. Imagine algorithms analyzing cases and producing theories that seem plausible but might be completely fabricated.
The technology exists to create deepfakes of victims’ voices or to generate “missing” footage that never existed. It’s as terrifying as it is fascinating (which pretty much sums up the entire true crime genre, if we’re being honest).
What We Can Learn (Besides Checking Our Door Locks)
The Watts case changed true crime media forever because it showed us the power of digital footprints. Everything we post, text, or search becomes potential evidence in the story of our lives—and possibly our deaths.
If there’s one lesson from this tragic case, it’s that the personas people craft online often hide darker truths underneath. Chris Watts appeared to be the perfect husband and father on Facebook. Behind closed doors, he was a monster waiting to emerge.
And that, my fellow true crime junkies, is scarier than any horror movie could ever be.