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The real-life crime genre has a new medium, or perhaps even a completely fresh vocabulary and structure: officer-worn camera recordings. Faces of victims, witnesses and possible perpetrators appear suddenly to the cameras, sometimes in the intense brightness of headlights or flashlights as the police arrive, their faces and voices eloquent of wariness or fear or indignation or suspiciously contrived innocence. And we often catch sight of the expressions of the officers themselves, one standing by blankly while the other asks the questions with what sometimes seems like remarkable hesitation – though maybe this is because they know they are being recorded.

An Emerging Pattern in Non-Fiction Cinema

We have previously seen the streaming service real-life crime film American Murder: Gabby Petito, about the killing of an social media personality by her boyfriend, whose primary focus was officer recordings and in which, as in this film, the police seemed surprisingly lenient with the suspect. There is also the acclaimed short film Incident by Bill Morrison, made exclusively of body cam film. Now comes a new film by Geeta Gandbhir about the grim case of Ajike Owens in a city in Florida, a woman of colour whose four young kids allegedly harassed and antagonized her neighbor, Susan Lorincz. In 2023, after an escalating series of neighborhood conflicts in which the authorities were summoned multiple times, Lorincz shot Owens dead through her locked door, when Owens went to Lorincz’s house to address her about throwing objects at her children.

The Police Inquiry and State Laws

The arresting officers found proof that Lorincz had done online research into Florida’s “stand your ground” laws, which allow householders and others to use firearms if there is a reasonable belief of threat. The movie constructs its narrative with the body cam footage captured during the repeated police visits to the scene before the killing, and then at the horrific and chaotic incident site itself – introduced by emergency call recordings of the caller calling the police in a melodramatically shaky voice. There is also police cell footage of the individual which has a chilly, queasy fascination.

Portrayal of the Accused

The documentary does not really suggest anything too complex about Lorincz, or any mitigating factors. She is obviously disturbed, although the children are heard calling her a derogatory term, an hurtful taunt. The production is presented as an example of how self-defense regulations generate unnecessary and heartbreaking bloodshed. But the reality of gun ownership and the constitutional right (that historic American constitutional privilege that a late commentator notoriously said made firearm fatalities a price worth paying) is not much emphasized.

Police Interrogation and Gun Culture

It is feasible to watch the police interrogation scenes here and feel surprised at how minimal concern the officers took in this aspect. When did she buy her gun? Did she receive any instruction on handling it? Had she ever had occasion to fire it before? Where did she store it in the house? Was it just on the couch, loaded and ready? The police aren’t shown asking any of these surely relevant questions (though they may have done in recordings that were not included). Or is gun ownership so commonplace it would be like asking about microwaves or bread heaters?

Detention and Consequences

For what appeared to her neighbors a extended period, the suspect was not even arrested and charged, only detained and even provided accommodation away from home for the night (another parallel, incidentally, with the a prior incident). And when she was finally formally arrested in the holding cell, there is an extraordinary sequence in which the individual simply declines to rise, will not extend her arms for the cuffs, not hostilely, but with the politely self-pitying air of someone whose mental health means that she just can’t do it. Did the gentle handling up until that point led her to think that this could be effective?

Conclusion and Verdict

It didn’t; and the jury’s verdict is saved for the end titles. A deeply sobering picture of American crime and punishment.