Over half a century later, what new information can be gleaned from the nights of August 9 and 10, 1969? Tom O’Neill and Dan Piepenbring’s riveting (if convoluted) book CHAOS: Charles Manson, the CIA, and the Secret History of the Sixties––released in June 2019, between the Cannes premiere and theatrical release of Quentin Tarantino’s cathartic rewrite of that history––argues that while all the evidence of the murders has been gleaned, there’s a complex and knotty web of conspiracies for the motivations, some more plausible than others. To pare down the 528-page book to its most overarching theory, it postulates Manson may have been allowed (and perhaps even directed) by the CIA to concoct a reign of terror in accordance with secret government programs created to squash left-wing movements demanding progress for the country. Culling the most vital elements of the book into an easily digestible 96-minute Netflix documentary, Errol Morris’ CHAOS: The Manson Murders is an absorbing, albeit succinct adaptation of various theories that likely will never see a burden of tangible proof.
Rather than take on a mini-series format that O’Neill’s book, at first glance, might deserve, Morris understands that the process of adaptation, particularly for non-fiction, is often one of excision. The director smartly discards much table-setting––primarily O’Neill’s lengthy, exhaustive account of the two decades it took to come to fruition and the specific details of his investigative dead-ends and struggles. This concision results in a rapidly paced journey through the rise of Manson and the crimes he and his cult carried out, splicing in theories relayed by O’Neill and others as they fit into the chronology. Showcasing materials in ways a book cannot, Morris features archival footage of Manson interviews from prison as well videos of his cult members both on trial and from interviews years later, Manson’s own musical recordings in his short-lived pursuit of stardom, and new interviews with those mentioned in the book. The swift onslaught of various materials detailing the ever-expanding face sheet of subjects makes for an engaging watch coherently conveyed by Morris, even as one wonders if the world really needs to see a step-by-step account of the nights of the murders yet again (complete with accompanying stabbing noises).
Those already familiar with the story will find the most compelling sections focus on O’Neill’s new theories. Rather than explore any specific thread in too great detail, Morris offers up the basic ideas in digestible fashion for a mass audience to do their own digging as they desire, but he effectively argues against various questionable aspects that were widely accepted as fact in prosecutor Vincent Bugliosi’s 1974 book Helter Skelter. While on probation for years before the murders, why was Mason never arrested for multiple crimes? When Manson and his followers visited Haight-Ashbury Free Medical Clinic, were they part of LSD mind-control experiments tested by CIA agents? Did Manson pick the Cielo Drive location solely because he mistakenly believed record producer Terry Melcher, who rejected his music, still lived there? Was Manson so paranoid about his followers turning on him that he sent them out to commit “bad crimes” and intentionally get caught? Is there a deeper reason why the police waited months to pin crimes on the Manson family? While there’s no concrete proof to be found in the book or film, both convince enough that these aren’t just crackpot theories and there’s more to the story than originally reported.
As Project MKUltra and LSD mind control are touched upon in some of the documentary’s most compelling passages, we of course get a brief glimpse of Morris’ previous series Wormwood, confirming he’s indeed the right choice for this documentary. Yet for a filmmaker so familiar with this particular form of the true-crime documentary, Morris’ personality ends up getting a bit lost throughout CHAOS, giving the sense he’s crafted a ready-made feature for easy consumption and borrowed at least a few of the tropes dissected in Charlie Shackleton’s recent Zodiac Killer Project. For example: with already so much material being thrown at the viewer, the addition of a puppet Manson feels a bit on-the-nose. Sections where Morris gives the sense of conspiratorial surveillance from multiple sides work better, employing an occasional split-screen showing more than one angle during the same interview.
In an era where QAnon and other conspiracy theories are fodder for the very worst of humanity, there could be the fear that CHAOS is another account of the ramblings of a madman hoping others will latch onto his government conspiracies. However, O’Neill’s decades of digging into events that transpired half a century ago show the work needed to piece together even the semblance of an argument, refuting not only Manson-related history widely accepted as fact but those dashing off conspiratorial social-media posts. Leaving the last words for Manson himself, Manson has commendably wrapped the many tendrils of O’Neill’s sprawling theories into one condensed, palatable package.
CHAOS: The Manson Murders arrives on Netflix on Friday, March 7.