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The true crime genre has a new medium, or perhaps even a whole new language and grammar: officer-worn camera recordings. Countenances of those harmed, observers and potential offenders loom up to the cameras, at times in the intense brightness of vehicle beams or flashlights as the police arrive, their expressions and tones eloquent of wariness or fear or indignation or suspiciously contrived innocence. And we frequently catch sight of the faces of the officers themselves, one waiting impassively while the other asks the questions with what sometimes seems like extraordinary diffidence – though perhaps this is because they are aware they are being recorded.

An Emerging Pattern in Documentary Filmmaking

We have previously seen the Netflix true-crime documentary The Gabby Petito Case, about the slaying of an Instagram influencer by her boyfriend, whose main point of interest was body cam footage and in which, as in this film, the law enforcement seemed extraordinarily lax with the perpetrator. There is also the acclaimed short film Incident by Bill Morrison, made exclusively of officer footage. Now comes a new film by Geeta Gandbhir about the tragic incident of Ajike Owens in Ocala, Florida, a African American woman whose children reportedly bothered and antagonized her white neighbour, Susan Lorincz. In 2023, after an increasing number of neighborhood conflicts in which the police were repeatedly called, Lorincz fatally shot Owens through her closed front door, when Owens went to Lorincz’s house to confront her about hurling items at her children.

The Police Inquiry and State Laws

The arresting officers found proof that the suspect had done online research into the state's self-defense statutes, which allow residents and others to shoot if there is a significant presumption of danger. The documentary builds its story with the officer recordings captured during the multiple officer calls to the location before the killing, and then at the disturbing and disordered incident site itself – introduced by emergency call recordings of Lorincz contacting authorities in a dramatically trembling voice. There is also police cell footage of Lorincz which has a disturbing, unsettling appeal.

Depiction of the Suspect

The film does not really suggest anything too complicated about Lorincz, or any extenuating circumstance. She is obviously disturbed, although the children are heard calling her “the Karen”, an ugly jibe. The film is presented as an example of how “stand your ground” laws lead to senseless and tragic bloodshed. But the fact of gun ownership and the second amendment (that historic American constitutional privilege that a late commentator notoriously said made gun deaths a necessary cost) is not much highlighted.

Officer Questioning 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 point. At what time did she purchase the firearm? 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? Could it have been easily accessible and prepared? The authorities aren’t shown asking any of these undoubtedly important questions (though they may have done in recordings that didn’t make the edit). Or is possessing a firearm so commonplace it would be like asking about microwaves or bread heaters?

Detention and Consequences

For what appeared to her local residents a very long time, Lorincz was not even taken into custody and indicted, only held and even provided accommodation away from home for the night (another point of comparison, by the way, 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 courteously pathetic demeanor of someone whose psychological state means that she is unable to comply. Did the gentle handling up until that point led her to think that this might actually work?

Final Outcome and Judgment

It didn’t; and the panel's decision is saved for the end titles. A deeply sobering portrayal of American crime and punishment.