“Gone Girls” review: A haunting reclamation of voice and justice

The story does not start with the serial murder but with Shannan Gilbert, a young woman who calls the 911 operators on May 1, 2010.

Her vanishing would lead in a roundabout way to the seizure of ten collections of human remains, lined up like a warning along Gilgo Beach's overgrown bush. In Gone Girls: The Long Island Serial Killer (Netflix, dir. Liz Garbus), the situation is instantly laid out that this is not a murder that was just discovered and arrested due to the police's fanatic efforts or the use of modern technology.

It was Gilbert's mother, Mari Gilbert, whose fighting for justice for her daughter's case never relented and eventually pushed law enforcement to make a move. This show is more about her fight than her daughter's.

Victims first: A radical reorientation of true crime

Gone Girls: The Long Island Serial Killer Source: Netflix

The Gone Girls is a case in point that makes a significant, humane decision in true-crime entertainment, a branch of media known for dwelling on the ambiguous motives of serial killers—by moving the focus from the criminal to his victims.

The very first episode not only tells the names but also gives a vivid picture of the victims: Maureen Brainard-Barnes, Melissa Barthelemy, Megan Waterman, and Amber Lynn Costello, also known as the "Gilgo Four." Daily lives, dreams, problems, and the heartbreak they left behind become clear through interviews with their families; thus, we get to know them better.

These women were victims of hard times, single motherhood, as well as the cruelty that comes with being a sex worker. By foregrounding their humanness, Liz Garbus not only scrutinizes a killer but also a system that was indifferent towards their cause.

Systemic apathy: Law enforcement under the microscope

Perhaps the most shocking observation throughout the series is the utter failure by the Suffolk County Police Department. Gilbert’s status as a sex worker was more than enough to justify sidelining her case.

It was only months later, after Mari Gilbert went to the media with her daughter’s tale, that the police decided to conduct a full-blown manhunt, and in the process discovered not Shannan, but the remains of four other women.

The docuseries does explore more than the surface level of waiting for scrutiny and bias within the system and sophisticated injustice.

Archival video of the press shows relevant actors washing their hands of the corpse and describing the characterization of their work as mere risky activity, a particularly galling epithet for sobbing families. It goes beyond systemic breakdown; this is institutionalized shaming.

Heuermann: The man behind the mask

While the victims and their families certainly provide the emotional backbone, the series does not overlook the focal point of the case: Rex Heuermann, the Manhattan architect taken into custody in 2023 for the Gilgo Four murders. Heuermann's veneer of an everyday suburban life in Massapequa Park is particularly chilling in revealing how monsters can lurk within society.

Garbus deftly avoids allowing his narrative to dominate the topic. She focuses on the decade-long delay in capturing Heuermann, asking why someone so connected to burner phones and incriminating DNA evidence escaped justice for so long.

A mother's legacy: Mari Gilbert’s unyielding pursuit

Gone Girls owes its existence to Mari Gilbert. She transformed from a reluctant public figure into one of the strongest advocates for her daughter because of the fierce love and devotion she had for her daughter. She fought against the portrayal of sex workers, relentlessly took on law enforcement, and advocated for visibility when no one wanted to look.

Unfortunately, Mari’s life was cut short in an unrelated incident in 2016, but her ruthless advocacy continues to shine through every frame of the series. Gilbert’s life is still full of unexplained struggles, like a completely unaddressed lack of justice surrounding the death of Gilbert's daughter.

Without this docuseries, the audience would have no understanding of the key role Mari played in advocating for the victims.

The final verdict: A must-watch with purpose

Gone Girls is more than a true-crime offering: it is a restoration effort. It returns the honor to desolate women and shines critical scrutiny on the systems that are supposed to serve them.

It implores us to understand that every single headline and each case’s file contains a story of a person who is often, sadly, disappointed by the reality of a multifaceted world that tends to start caring when things have gone far, too far.