Thirty-six years after the brutal shotgun murders of their parents in a Beverly Hills mansion, the Menendez brothers remain behind bars, their hopes for freedom dashed once again by California’s parole board. On August 22, 2025, Joseph Lyle Menendez, now 57, was denied parole for another three years—a decision that followed a similar ruling for his younger brother, Erik, just a day earlier. The fate of the infamous siblings, whose case has both fascinated and polarized the public for decades, now hangs in the balance as a new generation revisits their story through Netflix’s hit series, "Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story."
According to the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation, Lyle Menendez’s initial suitability hearing stretched for 11 hours and was closed to the public. Parole commissioner Julie Garland, who led the panel, acknowledged Lyle’s remorse but highlighted lingering concerns about his character. "We find your remorse is genuine," Garland told him, as reported by BBC, "but despite all those outward positives, we see ... you still struggle with anti-social personality traits like deception, minimisation and rule-breaking that lie beneath that positive surface." The panel ultimately concluded that Lyle still posed a risk to public safety, echoing the decision made for Erik Menendez, 54, the previous day.
Lyle, for his part, did not shy away from the gravity of his actions during the hearing. "My mom and dad did not have to die that day," he said to the parole board, his voice heavy with emotion. He went on to accept sole responsibility, insisting, "The decision to use violence was solely mine and not my baby brother’s responsibility. I am so sorry to everyone, and I will be forever sorry."
The parole denials come after a significant legal shift earlier this year. In May 2025, a judge resentenced the Menendez brothers—who were originally serving life without parole—to 50 years to life, making them eligible for parole under California’s youthful offender law. This law allows those who committed crimes before the age of 26 to seek a reduced sentence, and both brothers were under that threshold at the time of the murders: Erik was 18 and Lyle 21 when they killed their parents on August 20, 1989.
The events of that night have been dissected in courtrooms, documentaries, and now streaming television. According to BBC, Jose Menendez, a 45-year-old Hollywood executive, was shot six times, including in the kneecaps, with a shotgun the brothers had purchased just days before. Kitty Menendez suffered ten shotgun wounds as she tried desperately to crawl away from her attackers. Initially, the brothers told police they had found their parents dead upon returning home, but their story shifted multiple times in the months that followed. The truth unraveled when Erik confessed to his therapist, whose girlfriend subsequently alerted authorities.
The Menendez brothers’ defense claimed the murders were an act of self-defense, the culmination of years of alleged physical, emotional, and sexual abuse at the hands of their father. Yet, as BBC notes, no allegations of molestation were ever proven in court. Prosecutors maintained that the true motive was greed: the desire to inherit the family’s multi-million-dollar estate. The legal saga that followed was as dramatic as the crime itself. The first trials in the early 1990s ended in mistrials, with separate juries for each brother unable to reach a verdict. Only in a joint trial in 1995—where evidence of alleged abuse was largely excluded—were the brothers finally convicted of first-degree murder and conspiracy to murder in 1996.
The Menendez case faded somewhat from public view until a resurgence of interest sparked by the Netflix series in September 2024. "Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story" quickly soared to the top of the platform’s streaming charts, drawing more than 12 million views in its first weekend alone. The series, which presents the murders from multiple perspectives and explores what might have driven the siblings to kill, has ignited fresh debate about the nature of justice, trauma, and accountability.
Not everyone is pleased with the show’s portrayal. Erik Menendez, in a statement released by his wife on X (formerly Twitter), called the series a "disheartening slander" and lamented, "It is sad for me to know that Netflix’s dishonest portrayal of the tragedies surrounding our crime have taken the painful truths several steps backward—back through time to an era when the prosecution built a narrative on a belief system that males were not sexually abused, and that males experienced rape trauma differently than women." Family members have echoed his criticism, describing the show as "riddled with mistruths" and accusing its creators of "grotesque shockadrama." Ryan Murphy, the show’s creator, responded in Variety, "It’s not like we’re making any of this stuff up. It’s all been presented before."
The Netflix series has done more than just reignite public fascination; it has galvanized a movement advocating for the brothers’ release. Celebrities including Kim Kardashian and Rosie O’Donnell have lent their voices to the cause, joining family and friends in arguing that the Menendez brothers have paid their debt to society. Yet, not everyone is convinced. Prosecutors and some members of the public continue to believe that the brothers have failed to take full responsibility for their actions and remain unrehabilitated.
The parole panel’s skepticism was underscored by their findings. While Lyle’s remorse was noted, Garland emphasized that "despite all those outward positives," deeper issues persist. Similarly, Erik was told that he "still posed a risk to public safety and had not been a model prisoner." Both men will be eligible to try again for parole in three years’ time, though good behavior could shorten that interval to 18 months. Meanwhile, California Governor Gavin Newsom is reviewing a separate clemency request that could, in theory, result in a pardon. Newsom, himself a figure in the midst of political transformation and rumored to have national ambitions, holds the power to accept or reject any parole board recommendation.
The Menendez brothers’ journey through the American justice system has been anything but straightforward. After their convictions, the brothers were separated in prison to prevent them from conspiring to escape—a precaution recommended by detectives who investigated the case. They were not reunited until 2018, nearly three decades after their arrest. Over the years, shifting social attitudes toward abuse and trauma have led some to view the Menendez brothers in a more sympathetic light, even as others see their actions as the ultimate betrayal of familial trust.
As the parole denials reverberate through the media and online forums, the Menendez case remains a lightning rod for debate about crime, punishment, and the possibility of redemption. The brothers’ next chance at freedom may be years away, but their story—equal parts tragedy, controversy, and cultural phenomenon—continues to captivate and divide the nation.
