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T(caps)here are references to sexual assault and self-harm in the following article. In recent years, Netflix has emerged as the king of true crime documentaries and docuseries, but nothing quite compares to "Victim/Suspect." This isn't a story about a horrific crime being solved, or even the history of a remarkable case — rather, it's an investigation into certain police precincts and their unimaginable cruelty and indifference towards young sexual assault victims.
Rae de Leon, a journalist working at The Center for Investigative Reporting, discovered an alarming trend: women being splashed across news sites, painted as "liars" and "criminals" for "falsely" claiming to have been the victim of sexual assault. This didn't sit well with the young reporter, so she set out to find the truth. What she found was honestly not particularly surprising, but deeply distressing all the same.
Director Nancy Schwartzman follows Rae de Leon's journey as she investigates various such cases from Tuscaloosa, Alabama in which a young woman went to the police to report a sexual assault and ended up becoming the suspect of a crime. Schwartzman captures Leon's frustration, outrage, and despair as the reporter delves deeper and deeper into the dark side of sex crime investigations. This includes the tragic story of Megan Rondini, who died by suicide following her own traumatic experience with the Tuscaloosa authorities. In 2015, Rondini filed a police report stating that she had been assaulted by T.J. Bunn Jr.; unfortunately for her, Bunn was a well-connected man in the area, and the police didn't take the report at face value (this is clear from the interrogation footage — Bunn was questioned for less than 20 minutes). The events ruined her reputation and destroyed her mental health. She died eight months after the incident.
If you or anyone you know is having suicidal thoughts, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline by dialing 988 or by calling 1-800-273-TALK (8255).
'That's journalism, baby'
Rondini's story is harrowing enough on its own — yet, she's not alone. Leon interviews numerous young women and their family members on similar experiences with law enforcement. While statistics are hard to come by (something Leon addresses), experts suggest that less than 1% of reported sexual assaults are false allegations. And of course they are rare because getting a rape kit and spending hours with police officers in a cold interrogation room isn't exactly pleasant. It reminds me of a tweet I saw once where someone asked if Canadians hurt themselves all the time for free health care. Uh, no, we don't, because the cost (physical pain) far outweighs the potential gain (a cool cast? Spending time with doctors? Really not sure what the thought process was for this one).
So why did the Tuscaloosa police pressure these women into recanting their statements? Because it's easier. Solving crimes is hard and requires time, energy, and manpower. And in places like Tuscaloosa, there are clearly biases against these women. In the case of Megan, she was discredited because she was 20 years old and was black-out drunk. I'd argue that a grown man bringing home and then having sex with a girl in that condition is far from "consensual" (as the police officer repeatedly framed it) but what do I know? I'm not a cop.
It's sometimes hard to review documentaries like "Victim/Suspect" because the content is so upsetting, it's not really possible to enjoy the film. And we aren't assessing the artistic merit or creative elements like the acting or the writing. Nothing was particularly groundbreaking or innovative. In terms of it being a documentary, I think Leon and Schwartzman are both doing strong work, and it's nice to see the women getting a platform to share their stories. The Netflix documentary is also careful to not paint all police officers as guilty of this mindset, and it does present a strong case for how better training and better resources could help prevent these kinds of miscarriages of justice in the future. Still, "Victim/Suspect" presents a pretty damning portrait of the policing institution in America right now (especially the south), and it's going to take some serious time and effort to regain the public's trust.
