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The real-life crime category has a new medium, or perhaps even a completely fresh vocabulary and grammar: police body cam footage. Faces of victims, observers and potential offenders loom up to the cameras, sometimes in the intense brightness of headlights or torches as the police arrive, their expressions and tones eloquent of caution or fear or indignation or dubiously feigned naivety. And we frequently incidentally glimpse the expressions of the law enforcement personnel, one waiting impassively while the other asks the questions with what sometimes seems like extraordinary diffidence – though maybe this is because they know they are being recorded.

A Growing Trend in Documentary Filmmaking

We have previously seen the Netflix true-crime documentary American Murder: Gabby Petito, about the killing of an Instagram influencer by her partner, whose main point of interest was body cam footage and in which, as in this film, the law enforcement seemed extraordinarily lax with the suspect. There is also the acclaimed short film Incident by Bill Morrison, made exclusively of officer footage. Now comes Geeta Gandbhir’s documentary about the grim case of a Florida mother in a city in Florida, a African American woman whose children allegedly harassed and tormented her neighbor, Susan Lorincz. In 2023, after an increasing number of neighborhood conflicts in which the authorities were repeatedly called, Lorincz fatally shot Owens through her closed front door, when the victim went to Lorincz’s house to confront her about throwing objects at her children.

The Investigation and State Laws

The arresting officers found proof that the suspect had done internet searches into the state's self-defense statutes, which allow residents and others to shoot if there is a significant presumption of danger. The movie builds its story with the officer recordings generated during the repeated police visits to the location before the shooting, and then at the horrific and chaotic incident site itself – prefaced by emergency call recordings of the caller calling the police in a melodramatically shaky voice. There is also police cell footage of Lorincz which has a chilly, queasy fascination.

Depiction of the Suspect

The film does not really suggest anything too complex about Lorincz, or any extenuating circumstance. She is clearly unstable, although the children are heard calling her “the Karen”, an ugly jibe. The production is presented as an illustration of how self-defense regulations lead to senseless and tragic bloodshed. But the reality of gun ownership and the constitutional right (that historic American constitutional privilege that a deceased pundit famously claimed made gun deaths a necessary cost) is not much highlighted.

Officer Questioning and Firearm Norms

It is possible to watch the officer questioning segments here and feel astonished at how minimal concern the police took in this point. When did she buy her gun? Did she receive any instruction on handling it? Was this the first time she discharged the weapon? 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 undoubtedly important questions (though they could have inquired in recordings that were not included). Or is possessing a firearm so normal it would be like asking about kitchen appliances or bread heaters?

Arrest and Aftermath

For what appeared to her neighbors a very long time, the suspect was not even arrested and charged, only held and even offered a hotel stay away from home for the night (another parallel, incidentally, with the Gabby Petito case). And when she was finally formally arrested in the holding cell, there is an extraordinary sequence in which Lorincz simply refuses to stand, will not extend her arms for the handcuffs, not hostilely, but with the politely self-pitying air of someone whose mental health means that she is unable to comply. Did the gentle handling up until that point encouraged her to think that this could be effective?

Conclusion and Verdict

It was not successful; and the panel's decision is saved for the end titles. A deeply sobering portrayal of American crime and punishment.