When my quest to make a cliche-free film about one of America’s most notorious cold cases fell apart, I ended up investigating something entirely different – our own morbid curiosity

If you think true crime is inescapable when you’re browsing Netflix or making small talk with your co-workers, try working in the documentary industry. As you traipse from one commissioning meeting to the next, pitching your passion project on the history of mime or the secret life of snails, you can almost hear the words before they’re spoken: “Got any other ideas?” Preferably something with a body count.

I had just begun making documentaries in 2015, when the double whammy of HBO’s The Jinx and Netflix’s Making a Murderer brought true crime back to the dead centre of popular culture. Positioned as social justice projects as much as murder mysteries, those shows seemed to herald a new beginning for the genre. Soon enough, though, they gave way to a steady stream of interchangeable offerings, many of them organised into reproducible formats such as Netflix’s Conversations With a Killer franchise, each season of which is built round a long-lost interview with a notorious serial killer, unearthed to order.