I don’t like spending time with John Wayne Gacy, the infamous serial killer who murdered more than 30 teen boys and very young men in the seventies, burying many of them under his house. But Peacock’s “Devil in Disguise: John Wayne Gacy” is an important watch, exploring how ideas about masculinity enable horrible crimes like Gacy’s to happen, unpunished.

Part of what makes “Devil in Disguise” so strong is how showrunner Patrick Macmanus put his limited series in conversation with other true crime shows. We see no murders and very few acts of violence. Timothy Jack McCoy, John Butkovich, Francis Wayne Alexander, Darrel Samson, Samuel Stapleton, Randall Reffett, Michael Bonnin, William Carroll, Jimmy Haakenson, Rick Johnston, William George Bundy, Kenneth Parker, Gregory Godzik, John Szyc, Jon Prestidge, Matthew Bowman, Robert Gilroy, John Mowery, Russell Nelson, Robert Winch, Tommy Boling, David Talsma, Bill Kindred, Timothy O’Rourke, Frank Landingin, James Mazzara, Robert Piest—these are the boys, ranging in age from 14 to 21, the show names and introduces us to. We see many of these young men for who they were: boys figuring out their places in the world, friends, sons, and lovers. And in many cases, we don’t see them with Gacy at all.

The result is a haunting series that emphasizes the humanity of the victims and the loss they experienced to their loved ones and the world. These aren’t people defined by their death, but instead, by their full, if short lives. These are boys who deserved better.

The show is also very clear about who’s at fault. Of course, primarily, it’s John Wayne Gacy, played by a phenomenal Michael Chernus. As the title suggests, his Gacy is completely believable, helping an elderly neighbor through the Illinois snow and turning dark when a boy falls into his snare. This is the guy who made us all scared of clowns, a murderer who performed for sick kids in hospitals, met with first lady Rosalynn Carter, and was a well-regarded businessman. So even as Chernus embodies his real character’s midwestern nice (Gacy gets caught after he invites the police tailing him in for beers), it’s also clear that there’s evil and sickness at this man’s core.

The show helps Chernus by structuring itself not as a whodunit but as an exploration of the systems that allowed Gacy to go free for so long. By the end of the first episode, he’s in custody, although the trial occurs in the second-to-last installment, with the aftermath powering the final chapter. True to form, we don’t see testimony or courtroom theatrics. In the final installment, we don’t see Gacy at all. Instead, the show continues to focus on the surviving people in Gacy’s orbit—how they felt, how they coped, what they tried to change.

Because a lot needs to change, outside of the apprehension of this one man. Gacy’s were sex crimes between a man and many boys, some on the cusp of manhood. As such, telling his story could veer into demonizing gay men as inherently perverse or violent. But “Devil in Disguise” smartly refutes that trap, in part by showing how Gacy’s own, internalized homophobia underlied his violence.

But more than that, “Devil in Disguise” indicts our institutions for failing to believe that hard scrabble and/or queer boys could be victims. The series emphasizes that the Chicago PD consistently overlooked the boys’ disappearances, spending their resources elsewhere. Even when Jeffrey Rignal (Augustus Prew) survives an encounter with Gacy, reports it, and eventually tracks and finds his assailant, the officers refuse to press charges. They believe Gacy when he says that gay men regularly torture each other in this way, including burning Rignal with chloroform. Gacy works their prejudice to his benefit and goes free.

Gabriel Luna as Detective Rafael Tovar, the lead detective on the case, gives a haunting performance as he uncovers all the missed opportunities to catch Gacy earlier. As a father to a son just a little too young for Gacy and an officer who worked vice, he sees the humanity of the victims and aches for them. His chief, Joe Kozenczak (a strong James Badge Dale), also sees the problem and works to address it. But Kozenczak is worried about losing his institutional power and will only push so much, ultimately undercutting the victims he is trying to serve. In this, the chief’s cowardice reflects the many who know right from wrong but aren’t willing to put themselves at risk for justice, the silent majority who let evil transpire.

We also meet the attorneys who try Gacy’s case. Bill Kunkle (Chris Sullivan) is a smarmy district attorney whose professional ambitions align with his task of prosecuting the serial killer. Michael Angaranoas as Sam Amirante, Gacy’s defense attorney, is excellent. He makes a strong case for everyone’s constitutional right to rigorous defense even as he confronts Gacy’s horrible crimes and deals with his client’s inability to discern his new reality. Angaranoas has a toughness and swagger that perfectly meet the moment without ever being overwrought.

“Devil in Disguise” further succeeds by rooting itself in a specific place and time. This is a story of a generation of boys who are only valued when they come from “good” (aka well-to-do and white) families and consistently perform heterosexuality. The casting matches modern actors with their 70s counterparts, giving them the same haircuts and wardrobe. Likewise, the cars speak to the moment, with Gacy’s menacing sedan transporting us back. Even the architecture speaks to a time in the not-so-distant past when, say, the law did not recognize that the crime of rape can occur between two men.

But it does happen. And “Devil in Disguise” reminds us that when we look back on true crimes, it is not the luridness of the violence or the puzzle of the investigation that matters. It is the people affected, their futures torn asunder in the wake of such terrible acts. And the way we honor them is not simply to remember, but to work on the institutions that enable violence, that demand perfection from victims to be taken seriously, that code entire groups of people as undesirable. That’s what “Devil in Disguise” is about, and it portrays these truths artfully with a moral clarity that echoes through the script, off the screen, and into our lived, imperfect reality.

Whole series screened for review. Premieres tomorrow, October 16.

For Kevin Smith, making “Dogma” was the ultimate expression of his own waning religiosity, filtered through the verbose, irreverent, and crude humor that made him one of the most revered filmmakers of the ’90s indie boom. The kernel of the script predates his microbudget hit debut “Clerks,” having begun as a script called “God” that allowed him to express his doubts as a flagging Catholic growing up in New Jersey. But in 1998, after making waves at Sundance with “Clerks,” striking out with his failed studio comedy “Mallrats,” and bouncing back with Miramax relationship dramedy “Chasing Amy,” Smith finally had the cachet—and the budget—to tackle headier subjects.

There are still dick and fart jokes, a Biblical poop monster called the Golgotha, and of course, his trusty Greek chorus, Jay (Jason Mewes, honestly never better) and Silent Bob (Smith). George Carlin plays an irreverent cardinal looking to jazz up Catholicism with a smiling, encouraging sigil called the “Buddy Christ,” and Chris Rock, in a suitably Mel Brooks-ian touch, plays the secret Black 13th apostle, Rufus.

But what charms about “Dogma,” even twenty-five years later, is its relative sincerity in grappling with issues of religious belief in an increasingly jaded postmodern world, centering on a jaded, reluctant Last Scion (Linda Fiorentino) tasked with preventing a couple of fallen angels (Ben Affleck and Matt Damon, fresh off their “Good Will Hunting” win) from inadvertently erasing existence by contradicting Catholic dogma.

It took an almost religious level of faith to believe that “Dogma” would succeed; indeed, upon release, the film was plagued by delays and protests for its alleged blasphemy. And for a while now, it had been the rare Smith film unavailable to stream or purchase anywhere, as Harvey and Bob Weinstein personally held the rights and had let them lapse without renewal. However, in an event befitting a miracle, Smith managed to regain the rights to “Dogma,” restored it in 4K with the help of cinematographer Robert Yeoman, and is releasing it in theaters for its 25th anniversary on June 5th.

Smith sat down with RogerEbert.com days after its screening at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival to talk about Ebert’s influence on him as a film fan and filmmaker, as well as the long road to recovering “Dogma” from the ashes of Harvey Weinstein’s reputation.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

It’s a pleasure to talk to you specifically for RogerEbert.com; I know Roger was a devotee of your work from the early goes. I’d love to hear more about your relationship with Roger in your work, especially around the time of “Dogma.”

You gotta remember, that was the gold standard in the day. Of course, you had Pauline Kael, later on Janet Maslin, before that Vincent Canby and stuff like that. But Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel, I grew up watching on PBS when it was “Sneak Previews,” long before it became “Siskel and Ebert at the Movies.” There was no Internet back then, kids. So if you wanted to interact with movie clips, you’d hope to see a review on the nightly news or maybe the network news.

But Siskel and Ebert were reliable, man; they’d have two movie clips per review. And whether you agreed with their review or not, that was also part of the fun. Because, in a proto-Internet-type fashion, you’re like, “What? Those guys don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about!” It created teams instantly. But you got to watch them bicker about the movie, which in the ’70s and ’80s was rare. Nowadays, you jump on Letterboxd or a chat site or comment section that has nothing to do with film whatsoever and get into a film conversation. The world is pretty film-literate now, particularly the Internet. But back then, not at all.

I remember getting a Betamax in 1983 and recording the reviews. It wasn’t so much to keep the reviews as it was to keep the clips of the movies. So Siskel and Ebert were a huge part of my childhood. And when I became a filmmaker, naturally, I was like, “What do they think? Thumbs up or thumbs down?” Both Ebert and Siskel loved “Clerks,” gave it a thumbs up. So that kicked off my career very well. I remember them reviewing it on the show, and my mind melting after years of watching them review other people’s movies, only to hear him talk about me. Roger was like, “In movies, jobs are, ‘you’re a cop’ or ‘you’re a king.’ You never see somebody just working a job, and in this movie, you get to see that.”

Roger was not a fan of “Mallrats.” He hated it and didn’t give it a good review. When I was onstage at the Indie Spirit Awards in 1996, I was presenting with Laura Dern. Before we even say a word, I get up there and say, “Hey man, while I’m up here, I just want to take this opportunity to apologize for ‘Mallrats.’ I don’t know what I was thinking.” Roger, in his review of “Chasing Amy,” wrote, “Kevin Smith made a movie so bad that he apologized for it. But this year, he’s back with the incredible ‘Chasing Amy’.” He wrote a wonderful review of that film, and he did for “Dogma.” “Dogma,” he was on board with. He said, “Look, you may need a catechism to understand most of this movie.” But having him talk about my work was tremendous.

I worked with, or rather for, him at one point: When he was getting sick, they had people filling in on the show, so I got to sit down with [Richard] Roeper and review in the style I’d grown up watching Roger and Gene do. Of all the things I’ve gotten to do in my career, that was one of those side hustles that left me awestruck. I’m gonna meet Eborsisk, you know? From “Willow.”

Roger was a big figure in my life, and I was bummed like everybody when he passed far too early. Because he gave me a lot of joy. He didn’t make the movies, but he was a conduit to the earliest movie discussions I could get into via the mainstream. You could watch him with your family, your parents, your brother or sister, and get into conversations about whether he was right or wrong. It’s what we do almost every day on the Internet now, but you didn’t need the interconnectivity with everyone else.

Unlike the Kaels and the Canbys of the day, Roger was a very working-class critic, too; if there ever was a mainstream critic who could enjoy dick and fart jokes, it was the screenwriter of “Beyond the Valley of the Dolls.”

Absolutely, hands down. It’s a good thing that Roger didn’t review for The New York Times or The Washington Post. It might have made him a little stuffier. But the fact he was a Chicago kid, you felt like he was identifiable. I also always think about his controlled passion while he was on the show. He would rarely lose it; no “Fuck you Gene!” He would be like, “You just don’t understand what it’s doing! You just don’t get it.” He was very passionate, but measured in his facial expressions.

Let’s talk about “Dogma” a little bit; I feel like it was a crazy road getting it back into your hands from Harvey Weinstein’s ownership. Tell me that story.

A few years ago, I tried to get this movie back, because back in the day when we made it in 1998, it was under the aegis of Miramax, which was a Disney company at that point. Once it was done, it was a polemic; people were upset about it even though they’d never seen it. So Disney told Miramax, “Get rid of this movie.” Clench your assholes, kids, here comes the name: Harvey Weinstein personally (supposedly, allegedly) bought the movie and distributed through a young Canadian company at the time called Lionsgate, which hadn’t done anything that wide release at that point. Then Columbia Tristar got it for home video and had it for ten, fifteen years. Those deals lapsed, and I started getting people blowing me up online, saying, “I can’t buy ‘Dogma’ anymore unless I buy it on eBay for 100 bucks. What gives?”

I’d left the Weinstein Company in 2008 after “Zack and Miri Make a Porno,” before the 10th anniversary of “Dogma.” So I started sending emails. Nothing, silence. Didn’t hear anything for nine years. Then one day I get a phone call; this is after Weinstein Company is back on top with “The Artist” and shit. He could give a fuck about an old movie. But they’re like “Hold for Harvey Weinstein.” He goes, “Kevin, it’s Harvey. I’ve just realized I’ve got ‘Dogma’ and we’re not doing anything with it. We could probably make a sequel, or a streaming series.’ I was like, “Yes, it can, man!” He says we’ll get into it next week. I was so happy to hear from him about this forgotten movie. Fuck, there’s a future for “Dogma.”

Three days later, the New York Times piece runs, and we found out who Harvey fucking was. I remember feeling scared because I thought, “That guy just called me.” So I spoke to [producer] Jonathan Gordon, who hadn’t been there in years, and told him Harvey had called me and talked about making a “Dogma” sequel. Jon goes, “Kevin. He was never gonna make a ‘Dogma’ sequel. He was just calling to see if you were one of the sources of the New York Times piece. The fact that you answered the phone told him that you weren’t.” ‘Dogma’ was just a way to have a conversation with me.

In terms of the egregious things Harvey Weinstein’s done? Not even on the fucking list. But it was out of my hands. I was never gonna have this movie back.

Then this woman, Alessandra Williams, who grew up in the same neck of the woods as me in central Jersey, saw me telling that story, and thought, “Somebody should help him.” She literally got involved and did what I couldn’t. I tried to buy the movie back three times and got no answer from anybody. She bought a tranche of movies from Harvey, because I guess he’s in court again now facing new charges; he needed legal defense funds, so he sold off what he personally owned. There were a couple karate movies, “Dogma,” Larry Clark’s first movie, “Kids,” and “Fahrenheit 9/11,” Michael Moore’s movie. She bought all those movies, sold off the rest, and held onto “Dogma.” She came to me and asked, “What do you want to do with it?”

We’re now releasing it on 2,000 screens on June 5th. It’s gonna be on more screens than when the movie came out in 1999. Now we’re a summer movie. I tried to make all this happen for years, and I couldn’t. Alessandra pulled it off. It was absolutely amazing. What an incredible manifester. She rescued my movie about angels from the devil himself.

I’ll leave you with one last question: How do you think [George Carlin’s] Cardinal Glick would have done in the Conclave?

You know, Cardinal Glick’s chances during “Conclave” would not have been high. Having watched the movie, I can’t see him doing well in this crowd. They seem very stuffy. He was a visionary, you know? A marketeer. He’s the guy behind the guy, if anything. I assume he was the guy pushing for the first Pope from the United States. How do we not vote in that direction?

And now we’ve got a Chicago Pope.

Exactly!