It's hard to believe that this Ross Lynch is the same Ross Lynch who so brilliantly captures Dahmer's hunched, blank-faced, drunken aura. Lynch spends most of the film expressionless yet he conveys so much through so little. The smallest smile. An awkwardly delivered line. He's perfect. His Dahmer is as sympathetic as he is terrifying. The film outside of Lynch is also solid and subtle (it helps that the source material—Backderf's fantastic graphic novel—is excellent). This is not a gruesome retelling of murders. Instead it is a collection of quiet, affecting, occasionally distressing vignettes that build to the creation of a serial killer. There are a few stylistic missteps, but really, it's difficult to imagine an adaptation being much better than this.