How 'Making a Murderer' Goes Wrong

I loved Netflix's 'Making a Murderer' documentary series, but I spent most of the last episodes expecting to hear more of the State's case, and perhaps any doubts the film-makers had about Steven Avery's claims of innocence. In the first series of the 'Serial' podcast, Sarah Koenig was thorough about presenting both sides of the case against Adnan Sayed, and seemed genuinely unsure as to whether she should believe him innocent or guilty. There was none of that even-handedness in 'Making a Murder'.

Kathryn Schulz spoke to Penny Beernsten, who has a significant role in the telling of Steven Avery's story:

Given her history, Beerntsen does not need any convincing that a criminal prosecution can go catastrophically awry. But when Ricciardi and Demos approached her about participating in “Making a Murderer” she declined, chiefly because, while her own experience with the criminal-justice system had led her to be wary of certitude, the filmmakers struck her as having already made up their minds. “It was very clear from the outset that they believed Steve was innocent,” she told me. “I didn’t feel they were journalists seeking the truth. I felt like they had a foregone conclusion and were looking for a forum in which to express it.

This is exactly how the series felt to me, like the film-makers were only interested in presenting the case for Avery's innocence.

As Schulz concludes:

Toward the end of the series, Dean Strang, Steven Avery’s defense lawyer, notes that most of the problems in the criminal-justice system stem from “unwarranted certitude”—what he calls “a tragic lack of humility of everyone who participates.” Ultimately, “Making a Murderer” shares that flaw; it does not challenge our yearning for certainty or do the difficult work of helping to foster humility. Instead, it swaps one absolute for another—and, in doing so, comes to resemble the system it seeks to correct.