Conversaciones con asesinos: Las cintas del Hijo de Sam

Joe Berlinger's recent documentary fails to deliver a historically accurate or responsibly produced account of the Wendy Savino shooting-or the broader Son of Sam case. As someone who has spent years researching this case, I can say with confidence that the documentary not only includes glaring factual errors, but also gives a platform to unreliable sources and misrepresents key interview material.

Chief among the concerns is the involvement of podcaster Manny Grossman, whose work is widely regarded in the research community as riddled with disinformation. Grossman, alongside former first-grade detective Mike Lorenzo, claimed to contact the NYPD cold case unit after finding a sketch of a supposed Savino-related suspect in the Donna Lauria file. However, the Lauria case has long been suspected to be an organized crime hit-dating back to its initial investigation.

One early suspect was Vinnie Minutolo, Donna Lauria's ex-boyfriend, who owned a .44 caliber weapon and has a documented criminal history and questionable ties to organized crime. He had a documented history of stalking and harassing Lauria after their breakup. After the shooting, Jody Valente fled the state out of fear for her safety.

Despite this, Grossman recommended Minutolo for the documentary, and Berlinger included him-an editorial decision that severely undermines the film's credibility.

Even more troubling is Grossman and Lorenzo's claim that David Berkowitz was living out of his car after leaving the Cassara household on April 8, 1976, linking this transient period to the shooting of Wendy Savino the next day. This is verifiably false. Berkowitz applied for his Pine Street apartment on March 27, 1976, was approved by March 30, and moved in around April 1. His post-arrest warrant for non-payment of rent confirms he was a legal tenant at the time. He was never living in his vehicle.

When this factual discrepancy was brought to Grossman's attention, he responded by posting a selectively edited image of Berkowitz's lease application, mislabeling it a lease agreement, and attempting to mislead his audience-until he was called out for manipulating evidence. This is not only irresponsible journalism but a breach of basic research ethics.

Equally troubling is the documentary's failure to meaningfully engage with well-documented facts about Wendy Savino herself. Savino was under investigation for financial misconduct at the time of her shooting, and had been subpoenaed to appear before a grand jury in late 1976. She refused to return to the U. S. to testify. While the exact nature of that subpoena remains unclear, it coincides with ongoing scrutiny of her insurance brokerage business.

Savino had numerous connections that could have drawn attention to her case-especially after Berkowitz's arrest in August 1977. She had personal ties to Bronx District Attorney Mario Merola (with whom she reportedly had a "history") and access to publisher Christopher Hagedorn. In a FOIA release regarding her case, organized crime figure Richard J. Naclerio is mentioned, but the NYPD appears to have never questioned him. Public records show that Savino was involved in real estate ventures with Barbara Naclerio, Richard's wife. Despite this, Savino attempted to present herself as merely a "housewife"-a narrative clearly contradicted by public documentation.

This pattern of omission and distortion runs throughout the documentary. Interviews with participants were also taken out of context, giving a misleading impression of both events and individuals. Several contributors have since expressed concern about how their words were used. This has been an eye-opening experience for me in particular.

In October 2024, at Berkowitz's own request, I submitted my research on the Savino case to Berlinger's team for inclusion. At the time, they were already in post-production and understandably unable to incorporate the material. So, I opted to begin to publish my findings through a blog in order to support Berkowitz.

The final product of this documentary does nothing to advance historical understanding of the Savino shooting or the broader case. The result is a sensationalized narrative shaped by questionable sources, selective editing, and avoidable errors.

While it is understandable that there are legal challenges to presenting certain material, the documentary's editorial choices raise a larger question: if these limitations prevented the filmmakers from telling the story truthfully and accurately, would it not have been better to forgo making it at all?

Further clouding the documentary's ethical standards is Grossman's alleged violation of a non-disclosure agreement concerning the investigative files of Maury Terry. Those documents, once in the hands of filmmaker Joshua Zeman were mishandled. Zeman has yet to enforce the NDA violation with Grossman. The fallout has made Berkowitz's life extremely difficult in maximum security, culminating in his public retraction on June 8, 2023, where he stated he acted alone-an apparent attempt to end the ongoing chaos.

Berlinger's failure to properly vet Grossman is baffling, especially considering he did vet another podcaster in early 2024-reportedly at Grossman's urging. According to a credible source, Grossman spent over an hour on the phone with Berlinger to discourage him from contacting this individual for participation in the documentary.

This selective gatekeeping, coupled with a disregard for fact-checking and source reliability, seriously undermines the integrity of the project. The handling of the Wendy Savino case in particular exemplifies the dangers of blurring entertainment with investigative journalism-especially when the stakes involve organized crime, historical truth, and real lives affected by decades of misinformation.

Well, this is the 4th entry in the Conversations with a Killer documentary series on Netflix, and once again, it's a pretty solid Joe Berlinger effort. Having directed the other 3, Berlinger knows how to strike a balance between handling the sensitive side of the killings and conveying the essence of the series' title, i.e., the tapes. Berkowitz was not an easy person to understand - some of his actions stemmed from deep-seated trauma, anger, and hatred (right from his unsettling childhood), while some others felt spontaneous, attention-seeking, and trying to capitalize on notoriety.

Like the rest, we get 3 episodes of roughly an hour each, told in a non-linear fashion, cutting and stitching across various timelines in Berkowitz's life. The re-enactments are pretty good, as is the case with Berlinger's earlier works, blended with real footage from those times, adding to the retro intensity. How Berkowitz held a large section of NYC in fear for over a year is something that's worthy of a larger discussion. I appreciate how Berlinger concluded the series with the friends, lovers, and acquaintances of the victims sharing why they believe the victims deserve to be remembered beyond being Berkowitz's "targets."

P. S. Parts of episode 3 felt filler-like, especially because that was extensively covered in The Sons of Sam: A Descent Into Darkness.

In the summer of 1976, a killer brought terror to New York, randomly killing people and shooting them as they sat in their cars.

I didn't know a huge deal about Berkowitz. In episodes one and two, we're given real insight into the mind of the Son of Sam. We learn what happened to him in his youth and adult life. Berkowitz is an unusual character; he doesn't seem to follow the same pattern or have the same traits.

Episodes one and two were very good and insightful. The third episode was a little slow and somewhat padded out; had it been two episodes long, it would have worked better, although I was fascinated by Wendy Savino's story.

I'm always fascinated by what life must have been like in New York in the 1970s; it must have been quite something. Berkowitz was clearly able to exploit the lawlessness of the district.

As is always the case with these documentaries, there is some incredible footage from that time and some remarkable interviews. The linking and cutaway scenes work very well; they help to drive the story forward.

Definitely an interesting watch.

7/10.

I was a kid when all of this was going on. I also lived a few blocks from where the third shooting took place. (I still live a few blocks from that location but I'm east of it now instead of west of it.) Because of those reasons I'll watch pretty much anything that comes out about the killings. "Conversations with a Killer: The Son of Sam Tapes" does a pretty job telling the story. I found the actual recordings of David Berkowitz' voice uninteresting. I have no interest in listening to what a murderer has to say, especially one who keeps changing his story. I also didn't like how the show poo-poos the idea of there being more than one shooter. If it was only Berkowitz, why, all of these years later, is the case still considered open in the borough of Queens?

The docuseries delves deeply into every event in David Berkowitz's life, helping us understand how he forged the personality that would later become a prolific serial killer. While his attacks are described as a common thread, his experiences in childhood, adolescence, and adulthood are narrated in parallel, with a back-and-forth that provides context for Berkowitz's actions. The jumps in time do not confuse the chronology of events; on the contrary, they enrich the story. Added to all this is the juicy testimony of the killer himself, now in prison, in which he clarifies his experiences.