A Heart-Pounding 4-Part Italian True-Crime Saga of Unsolved Murders, Ritualistic Horror, and a Killer Who Eluded Justice for Decades – Viewers Are Bingeing Until Dawn, Breathless and Obsessed

Netflix has quietly dropped a gripping mystery crime drama that’s already sending viewers spiraling into a frenzy of fear, obsession, and morbid curiosity: The Monster of Florence, the 2025 Italian limited series that has skyrocketed to No. 1 in 15 countries with 38 million hours viewed in its first week. The moment it hit the platform on October 22, social media exploded with late-night reactions from people who swore they’d only watch one episode – but ended up bingeing all four back-to-back, hearts pounding and minds reeling. This isn’t just a series; it’s a descent into Italy’s most notorious unsolved case, a true-crime saga so twisted, so methodical, and so brutally haunting that even longtime fans of the genre are warning others to brace themselves before pressing play. What’s even more chilling is how faithfully the show recreates the atmosphere of terror that gripped the Tuscan countryside for 17 years, unraveling a dark family history through four episodes, each from a different suspect’s perspective. As the mystery deepens and new theories spark wild online debates, one thing is clear: Netflix has unleashed something viewers are not emotionally prepared for… and it’s already being called one of the most terrifying crime stories the platform has ever touched.

Created and directed by Stefano Sollima (Gomorrah, ZeroZeroZero) and co-written by Leonardo Fasoli (Romanzo Criminale), The Monster of Florence (Il Mostro di Firenze) chronicles Italy’s first modern serial killer case, a nightmare that terrorized the outskirts of Florence from 1968 to 1985. The series opens with the 1982 murders of a young couple parked in a lovers’ lane, their car riddled with .22 Beretta bullets from Winchester “H” series ammunition – the signature of a phantom who struck eight times, killing 16 and mutilating female victims in ritualistic fashion. Authorities, portrayed with documentary-like grit, chase leads from a 1968 double homicide, unearthing a toxic web of abuse, lies, and violence tied to the Meles family, Sardinian immigrants whose patriarch Stefano (Marco Bullitta) was imprisoned for the earlier killings. Each episode pivots to a new suspect – a jealous husband, a deranged doctor, a shadowy outsider – blending courtroom drama, forensic sleuthing, and hallucinatory flashbacks that blur fact and frenzy.

Sollima’s direction is a masterstroke of atmospheric dread, transforming Tuscany’s rolling hills into a landscape of lurking horror. Paolo Carnera’s cinematography bathes the countryside in twilight blues and blood-red sunsets, while the score – a dissonant mix of folk strings and industrial pulses – evokes the era’s paranoia. The cast is phenomenal: Liliana Bottone as a grieving widow whose testimony unravels alibis; Francesca Olia as a forensic expert haunted by the victims’ posed bodies; Valentino Mannias as a stoic investigator cracking under the case’s weight; and Giacomo Fadda as a suspect whose “confession” shatters the narrative. “The Monster wasn’t one man – it was a monster in all of us,” Sollima said at Venice, where the series premiered out of competition.

Critics are obsessed. The New York Times called it “a seismic unmasking – the scariest Italian series since Suburra.” The Guardian awarded five stars: “Sollima turns true crime into poetry of the profane.” On Netflix, it’s No. 1 in 15 countries with 38 million hours viewed, fans posting: “Episode 3’s ritual scene? Nightmare fuel – paused to breathe.”

The Monster of Florence isn’t entertainment – it’s exorcism. As a victim’s sister whispers, “He didn’t kill bodies – he killed trust.” Streaming now. The hunt resumes – and Italy’s ghosts won’t stay burie