‘Zodiac Killer Project’ review: Murder, he narrated | Sundance 2025

Directed by Charlie Shackleton, Zodiac Killer Project is a wry true crime breakdown of the typical true crime breakdown.

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Imagine you’re settling in for your standard Netflix true crime binge—crackling phone call reenactments, grim-faced FBI agents recounting leads that went nowhere, and enough drone shots over suburbia to make you wonder if the Zodiac was really just a frustrated real estate agent. But instead of all that, you get Zodiac Killer Project, a documentary about making a documentary…that no one actually made. Director Charlie Shackleton takes us on a weirdly self-aware ride through his failed attempt at cracking the infamous case, breaking down not just the mystery but the true crime genre itself. Think Zodiac (the movie) meets Behind the Music. Except instead of washed-up rockstars, it’s a filmmaker realizing in real time that he’s been beaten at his own game, beaten by bureaucracy, bad luck, and maybe, just maybe, the ghost of David Fincher laughing in the background.

This isn’t a haha, true crime bad parody. It’s something much funnier: an accidental postmortem on an entire saturated genre. Shackleton mixes B-roll footage, Bay Area landscapes, dramatic reenactments that should lead somewhere but don’t, and his own dryly exasperated narration to create a murder mystery where the only real crime is how close this movie was to happening. He doesn’t just poke fun at true crime tropes—he opens them up like an unsolved cipher, showing how the genre can be both gripping and completely absurd. It’s like listening to a “How Did This Get Made?” episode about a film that didn’t get made, with all the unexpected twists and logistical nightmares intact.

There’s a point where you start realizing that Shackleton’s biggest obstacle isn’t making sense of what happened—it’s the entire process of trying to turn crime into content. Watching him wrestle with legal battles, source material roadblocks, and the increasingly ridiculous realization that this thing is never coming together is both illuminating and hilariously tragic.

What makes Zodiac Killer Project even better is that it’s not just for film nerds dissecting the craft of documentaries. Though if you’ve ever yelled “WHY DID THEY USE THAT FONT?” at a Netflix doc, this movie is basically a gift for you. No, it’s also for anyone who has ever side-eyed their own obsession with true crime and thought, “Wait, why am I like this?” Shackleton isn’t wagging a finger at us for consuming murder stories like bedtime podcasts. He’s laughing with us about the industry that churns them out. He knows we love the mystery, the intrigue, the high-budget recreations of grainy gas station footage. And yet, he still dares to ask: “But… do we really need all this nonsense to tell a good story?”

One of the big downsides is that Zodiac Killer Project assumes you know your way around the True Crime Cinematic Universe. If you’ve never fallen asleep to Making a Murderer or rolled your eyes at a Dateline episode stretching one detail into 20 minutes, some of this might feel like it’s speaking in code. But for those of us who have (and we are legion), it’s speaking a common language. For some, however, it might come off as someone “explaining the joke,” which certainly makes the joke less funny in a way.

So in that way, the film is a little too content to linger in its own cleverness rather than push its premise further. As a playful genre experiment, it works, but as an actual deconstruction of true crime, it feels more like a precursor to something better. Shackleton is undeniably charming in his observations, but there’s a sense that he’s merely toying with a larger, more satisfying version of this idea. Still, it’s a compelling footnote in the true crime boom. A who-woulda-dunit about what-didn’t-happen.

Zodiac Killer Project had its world premiere at the Sundance 2025 Film Festival. Find more of our Sundance 2025 coverage here.