Some of Nick Broomfeild’s documentaries feel tinged with the aura of life-styles-of-the-rich-and-famous, and this, his second documentary about the same case, is one of them. Contrasting sharply in some respects with "Monster," Patty Jenkins’ fictionalized account of executed Florida killer Aileen Wuornos, the essence of her tragic life haunts both films. The most striking difference is that "Monster" is told from Alieen’s point of view and ends with her arrest in 1991 that also ended her seven-month killing spree. Another difference concerns a major incident treated as fact in the Jenkins film, but repeatedly questioned in the documentary. It is Aileen’s plea of self-defense in the killing of her first victim that Broomfield returns to again and again, and the brutal rape so horrifyingly depicted in Charlize Theron’s remarkable performance.

Because Broomfield had collected interviews and other material over the years since he initially met Aileen in the making of his first film, "Aileen, The Selling of a Serial Killer," the new film is able to present an extensive picture. But in the end, the complex, tortured, enigma that was the psyche of Aileen Wuornos died with her. It is not that there is much mystery to the facts of her life, her crimes, or her death, but rather in the twisted ball of rage and longing for human connection in her soul that can never be untangled. In the most powerful scene in the film, she looks straight into the camera, her dark eyes steady and lucid, and sets the record straight before she meets her maker.

Aileen, who keeps mentioning that she’s not really a serial killer, that it’s only "the numbers" that place her in this category, displays an eerie and fearful grasp of her situation. She does indeed not fit the common profile of most serial killers, a club whose members are almost exclusively men and sexual predators of one stripe or another. Her most immediate motive was robbery for survival. That she contradicts herself and is often not logical does not matter to her. One thing that sets her apart and makes this film not only compelling but possible, is her willingness to talk so freely, if not always lucidly, about anything that Broomfield asks her. Her intelligence, truthfulness and even generosity emerge plainly at times, but the rage in her soul reflects in her face, a once pretty face that aged at an astonishingly accelerated rate.

Broomfield became an advocate of sorts and the film treats this deeply disturbed woman with empathy. With emphasis on the time shortly before her execution, her early life, by all accounts miserable, is described through snapshots and interviews with family and former friends. Her only affectionate relationship, with a lesbian lover, and Aileen’s betrayal by her, seems like salt in her many wounds and is a confirmation of a larger society that let a little girl down. It also examines the exploitive nature of her defense attorney, Dr. Legal, and possibly the police and others surrounding the case, a case with opportunity for some easy bucks with the tabloid press.