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The true crime genre 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, at times in the harsh glare of headlights or flashlights as the officers approach, their faces and voices eloquent of wariness or panic or indignation or suspiciously contrived innocence. And we often incidentally glimpse the faces of the law enforcement personnel, one standing by blankly while the other asks the questions with what sometimes seems like extraordinary diffidence – though perhaps this is because they know they are being recorded.

A Growing Trend in Documentary Filmmaking

We have previously seen the Netflix real-life crime film The Gabby Petito Case, about the slaying of an social media personality by her partner, whose primary focus was officer recordings and in which, as in this film, the law enforcement seemed surprisingly lenient with the suspect. There is also the acclaimed short film Incident by Bill Morrison, composed entirely of officer footage. Now comes a new film by Geeta Gandbhir about the grim case of Ajike Owens in a city in Florida, a African American woman whose children allegedly harassed and tormented her neighbor, a local resident. In 2023, after an increasing number of neighborhood conflicts in which the police were summoned multiple times, Lorincz shot Owens dead through her locked door, when the victim went to Lorincz’s house to address her about hurling items at her children.

The Police Inquiry and State Laws

The investigating authorities found evidence that Lorincz had done internet searches into the state's self-defense statutes, which permit residents and others to use firearms if there is a significant presumption of danger. The documentary constructs its narrative with the body cam footage captured during the repeated police visits to the scene before the killing, and then at the disturbing and disordered incident site itself – prefaced by 911 audio material of the caller contacting authorities in a melodramatically shaky voice. There is also jail video of Lorincz which has a chilly, queasy fascination.

Portrayal of the Accused

The documentary does not really suggest anything too complicated about Lorincz, or any mitigating factors. She is clearly unstable, although the children are heard calling her “the Karen”, an hurtful taunt. The production is showcased as an illustration of how self-defense regulations generate unnecessary and heartbreaking bloodshed. But the reality of firearm possession and the second amendment (that longstanding U.S. legal right that a deceased pundit notoriously said made gun deaths a necessary cost) is not much emphasized.

Police Interrogation and Firearm Norms

It is possible to watch the police interrogation scenes here and feel astonished at how little interest the officers took in this point. At what time did she purchase the firearm? Where (if anywhere) did she train in its use? Was this the first time she discharged the weapon? How was the gun kept in her home? Was it just on the couch, loaded and ready? The authorities aren’t shown asking any of these surely relevant questions (though they could have inquired in footage that didn’t make the edit). 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 held and even provided accommodation away from home for the night (another point of comparison, incidentally, with the a prior incident). 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 cuffs, not hostilely, but with the courteously pathetic demeanor of someone whose mental health means that she is unable to comply. Had the kid-gloves treatment up until that point encouraged her to think that this might actually work?

Conclusion and Verdict

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