The terrifying true story behind Woman of the Hour- ‘He was born with half a soul’

In a captivating twist of fate, Cheryl Bradshaw found herself choosing a date on the 1978 episode of the iconic television show “The Dating Game.” Little did she know that her choice, bachelor number one, Rodney Alcala, was not just a charming contestant but also one of America’s most notorious serial killers.

“I am serving you for dinner,” Bradshaw playfully asked him. To which Alcala, the longhaired photographer, responded with a cheeky, “I’m called the banana and I look really good… Peel me.” The laughter from the studio audience masked the chilling reality that Alcala had a dark past, already being a registered sex offender at the time.

The story of this eerie encounter is brought to life in Anna Kendrick’s directorial debut, “Woman of the Hour,” now streaming on Netflix. The film portrays how Alcala (portrayed by Daniel Zovatto) seduced young women with his charm and photography skills, leading to his eventual conviction for multiple murders in the 1970s.

Bradshaw, played by Kendrick, is depicted as an aspiring actress striving to succeed in a male-dominated industry, seeing “The Dating Game” as her opportunity. The show, which paved the way for future reality TV trends, boasted contestants such as Farrah Fawcett and Arnold Schwarzenegger, while its producers were oblivious to Alcala’s violent background, failing to conduct thorough background checks.

Former homicide prosecutor Matt Murphy, who consulted on “Woman of the Hour,” reflects on the show’s historical context. “The Dating Game was a risque G-rated show filled with silly innuendos, embodying a more innocent era,” he says, highlighting the naïveté surrounding issues of sexual predators at the time.

Despite his looks and charisma, Alcala sat on that stage with a history of horrific crimes. Murphy adds, “It speaks to the narcissism and arrogance of psychopaths; he was in the midst of a murder spree and still managed to be chosen on a dating show.”

When Bradshaw ultimately selected Alcala, declaring, “Well, I like bananas, so I’ll take bachelor number one!” the audience applauded, blissfully unaware of the danger lurking beneath his appealing facade. Yet, immediately after the show, Bradshaw felt uneasy and decided to cancel the date. “I can’t go out with this guy,” she told the show’s contestant coordinator, expressing her discomfort. Fortunately, her intuition saved her life.

Alan Warren, the author of “The Killing Game,” recalls Bradshaw’s experience. “She was charmed by his playful banter during questioning, but when they met in person, her instincts kicked in, and she felt something was off,” he explains. “It was his presence that creeped her out, not just his words.”

After the show, Bradshaw distanced herself from the entertainment industry, trading it for family life, but she never forgot her close encounter with Alcala. Warren, who interviewed her before her passing, noted that the memory still haunted her.

While Alcala returned to his violent ways after his brief exposure on television, ultimately murdering more young women, he evaded justice for decades. His killing spree included the tragic case of 12-year-old Robin Samsoe in 1979. Despite numerous trials and a convoluted legal history, advances in DNA technology linked him to multiple murders, leading to his eventual death sentence.

Murphy’s examination of Alcala’s upbringing reveals a disturbing reality — that sometimes the roots of such monstrous behavior do not stem from trauma, abuse, or neglect, but from an unsettling sense of entitlement and privilege. “Rodney Alcala had everything; he was a certified genius with a loving family,” Murphy points out. “Yet he chose to inflict unspeakable horror upon others.”

With chilling revelations of Alcala’s heinous acts, including the sadistic treatment of his victims, Murphy provides a sobering insight into the mind of a killer. “He was charming and charismatic,” he recounts from his courtroom experiences, “but I always knew he was a monster.”

Now, “Woman of the Hour” sheds light on this unsettling chapter of true crime, revisiting the intersection of fame, danger, and the often unseen horrors lurking just beyond the surface.