What begins as a routine investigation unravels into a chillingly intimate descent—the kind of story that doesn’t just disturb you, it follows you. Netflix’s Conversations with a Killer: The Son of Sam Tapes, the third installment in Joe Berlinger’s acclaimed docuseries franchise, premiered on May 10, 2025, and has since skyrocketed to No. 1 in 45 countries, amassing over 120 million hours viewed in its first week. With a flawless 100% Rotten Tomatoes score and critics calling it “a horror film masquerading as nonfiction” (The New York Times), the four-episode series dissects the 1976-1977 reign of terror by David Berkowitz, the self-proclaimed “Son of Sam,” who gunned down six New Yorkers and wounded seven more in a spree that gripped the city in paranoia. Audiences say they felt something lingering in the room after it ended—real recordings too personal, confessions like last breaths, and a final reveal so grotesquely human it leaves you cold. Press play only if you’re ready for a night where sleep becomes optional.
Berlinger, whose Conversations series has earned 11 Emmys (Ted Bundy Tapes, Jeffrey Dahmer Tapes), unearths never-before-heard prison interviews with Berkowitz, now 72 and serving 365 years at Shawangunk Correctional Facility. The tapes, recorded in 2017 by journalist Maury Terry (who died in 2015), reveal a man whose “demon dog Sam” ravings masked a more mundane evil: a loner fueled by resentment, porn addiction, and a twisted quest for infamy. “He wasn’t a monster—he was a mirror to our city’s ugliness,” Terry’s voiceover intones, as the series interweaves 1970s news clips of terrorized couples avoiding lovers’ lanes with Berkowitz’s flat, unrepentant monologues: “I was chosen to bring hell to the streets.”
The genius lies in its restraint—no sensational reenactments, just the tapes’ eerie intimacy, archival footage of panicked NYPD pressers (Chief John Keenan: “He’s taunting us”), and interviews with survivors like Cacilia Davis, who spotted Berkowitz fleeing Stacy Moskowitz’s murder scene. Episode 2’s bombshell—Terry’s theory of a Satanic cult ring tied to the Process Church—unspools with chilling detail, linking Berkowitz to John and Michael Carriveau, who confessed to earlier murders. The finale’s reveal, Berkowitz admitting “Sam was a cover,” lands like a gut punch, blurring serial killer myth with mundane madness.
Viewers are traumatized. “I felt watched long after—it’s that invasive,” tweeted @TrueCrimeNights (50k likes). “Episode 3’s tape… I had to pause and lock my doors” (@HorrorHound, 40k retweets). #SonOfSamTapes has 1.8 million posts, with warnings: “Too dark for bedtime—100% score earned.” The series spotlights the toll on victims: Donna Lauria’s parents, forever frozen in grief; Moskowitz, blinded in one eye, now an advocate.
Berlinger’s unflinching lens—echoing Dahmer‘s institutional failures—exposes 1970s policing pitfalls: overlooked tips, media frenzy, and Berkowitz’s jailhouse conversion that spared him death row. “He played the system like his .44,” Berlinger told Variety. With a 100% score, it’s the franchise’s pinnacle—disturbing, yes, but essential.
Stream Conversations with a Killer: The Son of Sam Tapes now on Netflix. It’s not just a doc—it’s a descent into the city’s soul, where evil whispers louder than screams.
