Everything The Watcher Gets Wrong About The True Story

The newest true crime story to make its way to streaming is the infamous case of 657 Boulevard Avenue and the mysterious stalker who gives the series its title — "The Watcher." The real-life case unfolded mainly in 2014 and 2015, when the Broaddus family purchased the stunning Boulevard Avenue home in Westfield, New Jersey, and began receiving disturbing, potentially threatening letters in the mail from the titular Watcher. Though the actual case is about as mysterious as modern true crime cases get, the fictionalized Netflix original series version is exponentially more baffling. Most of that difference lies in the adaptation by filmmaker Ryan Murphy, the modern horror king known for "American Horror Story" and "Dahmer – Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story."

In Murphy's hands, the series transforms the real Watcher and their letters into a twisting, turning flume ride whose rapids are bloody and whose ending may never come. The series is a true dramatization, supplementing the actual eeriness with more surprise, betrayal, mystery, murder, and potentially even a touch of the supernatural. For fans of the show, the real case it's based on, or both, here's a look at everything "The Watcher" gets wrong about the true story.

The Netflix series focuses on Dean Brannock (Bobby Cannavale) and Nora Brannock (Naomi Watts), as well as their children Ellie (Isabel Gravitt) and Carter (Luke David Blumm), the family with the dubious honor of purchasing 657 Boulevard Avenue. The real family is a bit different, consisting of Derek and Maria Broaddus and their three children.

The plot of "The Watcher" is heavily dependent on the fact that the Brannocks move into the house, and only then begin receiving the harassing letters, as well as the escalating acts of terror that ensue. The murder of Carter's pet ferret, for example, represents a major raising of the stakes for both the series and its central family. In the real case of the Watcher, no ferrets or any other animals were harmed, and that's for one simple reason: the Broadduses never actually moved into the house.

Per the popular article from The Cut that brought this case to a wide audience, it was only three days after the Broadduses closed on the property that the first Watcher letter arrived, and the couple reacted immediately. They met with police, kept their kids at another home in Westfield, and stayed on high alert whenever they visited. Their absence became source material for the Watcher's third letter, which read in part, "Where have you gone to? 657 Boulevard is missing you."

Another invention of Murphy and company for "The Watcher" is the long, storied history of the house and its numerous former owners. In the actual case, the only former owners to become involved in any capacity were the most recent occupants, the Woodses, and their involvement was minimal. The Woodses did receive their own letter from the Watcher, but it came just days before they moved out and was dismissed as inconsequential. The couple had lived there for 23 years without incident, often even leaving their doors unlocked, and never felt threatened. On top of that, as The Cut reports, not one former owner before the Woodses recalled anything odd or sinister.

In contrast, the Netflix adaptation of events adds a long series of characters with special ties to the house, both its former owners and former visitors, many of whom received their own Watcher letters. There's most recent owner Andrew Pierce (Seth Gabel), who claimed to not only receive multiple letters but said he actually uncovered evidence of a neighborhood Satanic cult that drinks the blood of children to stay young. There's John Graff/William Webster (Joe Mantello), a former owner who also received letters, and who eventually went mad and murdered his entire family before escaping into anonymity. There is also retired local professor Roger Kaplan (Michael Nouri), who adulated the house as a child and once a professor, assigned his students the assignment of writing anonymous odes to houses and leaving them in their mailboxes — the Watcher's exact M.O.

The middle episodes of "The Watcher" add more challenges to The Brannocks' already overwritten list, the largest two of which are Dean's alleged racism and infidelity. Furious at Dean forbidding Dakota (Henry Hunter Hall) from seeing her, Ellie exacts an overblown revenge by posting a TikTok falsely accusing her father of being racist. Shortly after that, Dakota finds and shares a security camera video of what seems to be Dean engaging in an extramarital affair with an underage-looking girl.

Despite the rapid reveal that both accusations are false and both accusers are merely trying to enact revenge on Dean, the life-changing damage is done. The videos reach Dean's boss, who reacts unilaterally and immediately, preventing Dean from becoming a partner in his firm, and later even firing him. For the remainder of the series, Dean interviews for new jobs with seemingly zero success, even ending the season still unemployed. Though these additional struggles, coming at the midpoint and continuing to the season's end, represent a textbook storyteller's tool for ramping up the drama, they are fictional.

Despite being forced to sell 657 Boulevard for a substantial loss and considering the whole ordeal the "worst years" of his life (per the Hollywood Reporter), the real Derek Broaddus didn't face the same irreversible ruin and stigma that Dean Brannock did, and still enjoys professional success.

Another character created for "The Watcher" is Dakota (Henry Hunter Hall), the young entrepreneur who volunteers his security company to help bring the Brannocks peace of mind. He becomes an integral figure in the story, not only thanks to his security system but also for leaking the video of Dean's alleged affair and for dating Ellie. Though Dakota is a Netflix original character, he does have a fascinating real-world inspiration who gave the case one of its most tantalizing and mysterious leads.

The real person, dubbed by the popular true crime series Buzzfeed Unsolved as the Gamer, is one of the more plausible candidates for the Watcher — partially because he goes by the Watcher. According to the Cut, Westfield detective Barron Chambliss was on a stakeout outside of 657 Boulevard one night when he noticed a car linger outside the home for a suspiciously long time. He traced the vehicle back to a local woman whose boyfriend apparently used "The Watcher" as one of his handles in online video games. When contacted, the Gamer agreed to come into the police station for questioning, but then never appeared. As there wasn't enough evidence to arrest or detain him, he was never questioned, and the amount to which he was involved in the Watcher letters is still unknown.

For as massive a media sensation as the Watcher case was, and as enduring an urban legend as the whole affair has become, the actual events were tame when compared to those in "The Watcher." The complete tally of the Watcher's harassment is limited to, as the Cut reports, four letters (and perhaps a fifth addressed to another nearby home) and potentially a construction sign ripped out of the ground. Although this is certainly still enough to warrant fear and precaution for any parents, the Watcher case wasn't proven to include any violence, trespassing (except possibly to grab a sign from the lawn), destruction (again: except perhaps the sign), or personal confrontations at all. That makes the many hostile encounters and acts of violence in "The Watcher" a far cry from the truth.

In "The Watcher," both Carter's pet ferret and Karen Calhoun's (Jennifer Coolidge) dog Baron are found dead and bloody inside the house, suggesting murder by a trespassing Watcher. In addition, Dean is involved in numerous shouting and shoving matches with various neighbors and suspects, adding a new — and fabricated — level of violence to the series.