Over ten episodes, the documentary gives us the story of Steven Avery, a Wisconsin man who was accused of rape in his twenties and languished in prison for 18 years before being exonerated by new DNA evidence. Two years after his release, he was accused of murder, and the show examines the investigation, trials, and multiple miscarriages of justice that could lead Steven back into prison when he once again protests his innocence.
The show is not easy to watch and requires your patience. The first two episodes are concerned with Steven's rape conviction and subsequent exoneration - that was enough of a rollercoaster that I thought that was the focus of the show, forgetting the fact that it had to involve murder at some point. However, once we get into the murder, the show really picks up steam, managing to be both meticulous yet fascinating at the same time. You are introduced to Steven's defense attorneys, Dean Strang and Jerome Buting, who are represented as avenging angels taking on the entire State of Wisconsin to defend this man that they wholly believe to be innocent. Strang in particular is a real-life Atticus Finch, given to eloquent monologues about the toll an accusation can take on a man's reputation and the duty of the justice system to grant everyone a fair trial. His high-minded ideals lend a great deal of pathos to the proceedings, getting you even more invested in this bizarre trial that has so many twists and turns that it feels more like a John Grisham novel than real life.
The documentary also heavily features Steven's parents, who cannot believe what is happening to their son all over again. There is also full coverage of Steven's nephew's trial, as he is implicated in the murder and is subjected to his own heinous set of judicial misfortunes. You get to hear his phone calls from prison to his mother, and no matter what you think about his guilt or innocence, there is no denying that the piteous moment when he tells her, "I'm stupid," is heartbreaking. Considering that the series covers a span of time from 1985 to 2015, it's astonishing to revisit these people as time passes, to watch their pain and worry become permanently etched into their features.
Filmmakers Moira Demos and Laura Ricciardi deserve a great deal of acclaim for this series. I found it moving and gripping and was thoroughly compelled by the trial proceedings. Unfortunately, the final episodes took a bit of a turn that reminded me that documentaries don't necessarily tell the whole truth. I realized that I was consistently presented with Steven's side of the story, and while the defense were the heroes of the piece, the prosecution were thoroughly demonized. Much of the series' focus is on how the town hated the Avery family, making them a target for police suspicion and persecution. But one can't help feel that this documentary is now turning the tables and persecuting the people who were against the Avery's. Granted, none of those people are in prison, but there is a sense that the filmmakers did all they could to uphold Steven's innocence and glance over any unsavory facts about his reputation, while subsequently digging up all the filth they could about his enemies.
Ultimately, Making a Murderer is a thought-provoking piece of television that will make you question the justice system and give you a lot more respect for the men and women who fight for the rights of the accused. However, it can only raise questions, not answer them, and it leaves you with a profound sense of uncertainty. This series makes it clear that neither justice nor filmmaking deal in black or white absolutes. Instead, there's a lot of gray area that allows for subjectivity and human error, and the results can be messy and unsettling.
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