The serious crime genre has long relied on understanding with the audience. This means accepting some degree of artificiality in exchange for truth. We tolerate shadowy silhouettes, distorted voices, and stiff dramatic reenactments. We understand that these are necessary tools to protect the living while honoring the dead. But on Netflix Lucy Levy researchthat understanding is crumbling. For the first time, I found myself looking at a grieving mother and asking questions that should never surface in a documentary. “Is this person real?”
The answer is a chilling “no.” A small disclaimer next to the story’s central characters, “Sarah” and “Maze,” reads “digitally anonymized.” Naturally, the real people wanted to remain anonymous, so the production used AI-generated “humans” to give their testimonies.
On paper, the logic is sound. In fact, it’s very disturbing. The mother, Sarah, seems overcome with emotion as she talks about her daughter’s birth and subsequent murder. She buries her face in her hands, but the performance is hollow, she is crying, but there are no tears. Meanwhile, Levy’s friend “Maze” appears in a doctored “friendship” photo alongside the convicted culprit. The closer you look, the more the illusion dissolves. They’re talking about FaceTuned images, avatars trapped in the uncanny valley, imitating soulless sadness.
Subscribe parting shot with H. Alan Scott above apple podcast or spotify and the For the Culture newsletter.
Netflix defended this decision esquiresaid the technology was used “to protect the anonymity of posters at their request.” Although the protection of anonymity is a cornerstone of documentary journalism, that principle does not justify this particular practice. For decades, documentaries have honestly navigated these challenges from the creative shadows. forensic file Back to the decidedly strange 1980s unsolved mysteriesreal people played themselves in the reenactment. (Who would agree to that?) We have always processed the truth through filters. We didn’t need deepfakes to feel the weight of the story.
By embracing this technology, Netflix has positioned ‘Sarah’ and ‘Maise’ as digital pioneers of the future of storytelling. But this is a dangerous frontier. Replacing human faces with algorithms not only protects their anonymity but also sanitizes the reality of their pain. We’re asking the audience to form an empathetic connection with someone who isn’t actually a human being, which ultimately cheapens their story and ultimately undermines the whole point of the documentary.
I’m not against AI. When used thoughtfully, AI can be a transformative asset for creative work. But when we manufacture fake humans to tell the story of murdered infants, the technology becomes an unpleasant distraction. Instead of honoring the victims and grappling with the incomprehensible horror of Levy’s crimes, we end up debating the ethics of visual effects. In its quest to make documentaries more “immersive,” Netflix has achieved the opposite. It makes the tragedy feel artificial.
Please make sure you are registered with farewell shot podcast The For the Culture newsletter brings you the latest in entertainment and pop culture.
