The entire creative team of this film should be hogtied and shuffled off to Gacy's crawlspace. What's worse?: The amazingly feeble psychological explanations of Gacy's psychosis, southern California locations that look NOTHING like Chicago, costume, set, hair and costume inaccuracies for the period? The list goes on and on. There is no suspense, no pacing, HUGE gaps in the narrative. We're supposed to accept Gacy became a gay serial killer because his Dad called him a jag-off??? (Did it occur to the writers that 'jag-off' didn't enter the vernacular until the 70s and NOT 1953?? Obviously not.) When the inept director loses steam, he resorts (repeatedly) to shots of clown paintings and insects crawling in the basement to wake his audience up. The vapid creative team offers deadly dull commentary that offers little of interest about the story or film process. Don't even waste the money to rent this stinker... no pun intended.