One look at the suggested titles on your streaming service will tell you: Documentaries are popular.
But as purportedly true stories about crime, cults and celebrities compete for our eyeballs, are standards for ethical nonfiction storytelling keeping up?
“Unlike scientific research or journalism, there’s no system of fact-checking in documentary filmmaking,” says Laura Asherman, filmmaker and director of the Ethics and the Arts program at Emory Center for Ethics. “There’s no peer review. But maybe that’s something we can work towards.”
To that end, Asherman co-organized “Finding Your Compass: A Documentary Ethics and Accountability Workshop.” The two-day event, set for Saturday, Dec. 6, and Sunday, Dec. 7, in Atlanta’s Poncey-Highland neighborhood, convenes students and professionals to address challenges in principled filmmaking. Documentary filmmakers will present case studies about ethical dilemmas they encountered while creating their films. Attendees will have the opportunity to share challenges in their work and brainstorm solutions in small breakout sessions.
In the following Q&A, David Barba, filmmaker and Emory assistant professor of film and media, joins Asherman to discuss the popularity of documentary films and the common ethical pitfalls involved in making them. They also talk about what steps filmmakers — and viewers — can take to address the problem.
Why do we love documentaries?
David Barba: I think people are interested in authentic, real stories and, for better or worse, documentary is thought of as a kind of truth telling. In an era when many [fictional] shows are full of product placement and can feel plastic, watching a documentary feels like you are watching real life.
Laura Asherman: I also think that many times, viewers relate to these people [in documentaries] as more authentic characters — and maybe even see themselves in them.
Barba: But nonfiction storytelling is not always authentic. Just look at “Nanook of the North,” which is considered a foundational text of documentary, written and directed in 1922 by Robert Flaherty. When it came out, everyone thought, “This film portrays how Inuit communities really live!”
We have learned, since, that some scenes and elements in that movie were staged, and there were things Flaherty asked the participants to do that were not true to their culture.
And so, even from its very foundation, documentary has always had these ethical issues that, back then, were not discussed.
Asherman: And, unfortunately, this ethical gray area in documentary persists today. A recent film I saw about a marginalized community — a place where there’s already rampant stereotypes about drug addiction — highlighted almost exclusively stories that perpetuated that narrative. This flattening of characters is a really myopic way to look at a community from the outside.
Barba: In terms of a good example, something I show my documentary filmmaking class is “Crip Camp,” directed by James Lebrecht and Nicole Newnham. The film, from 2020, is about the disability rights movement and how a summer camp for disabled individuals helped to spark that movement — and one of the directors is disabled and appears in the movie.
Asherman: Absolutely. Films don’t always have to be by people from the community they depict, but it’s a lot more common to have these issues of misrepresentation when it’s all outsiders making the film without any insiders’ voices or needs driving the project.
How about after the cameras stop rolling?
Asherman: The 2022 film “Subject,” co-directed by Camilla Hall and Jennifer Tiexiera, is a great way to understand the implications of being in a documentary once the cameras stop rolling. The film is produced by Margie Ratliff and also features her. In the film, she talks about the ongoing effects of having been in a documentary called “The Staircase,” which covered a deeply traumatic event in her family.
The participants in documentaries should consider what may happen if a film becomes famous and people start recognizing them. This can be potentially harmful if, say, the film is about marginalized or vulnerable communities, like people who are undocumented, and their identities are suddenly public.
What steps can filmmakers take to minimize potential harm?
Barba: I recently shared the latest cut of the film I am working on with the participants being featured in it. I provided them each a private link and explained what a “rough cut” is. And I gave them time to digest the material and think about it before they give their notes on how they feel their stories are being represented. I included ten sessions with a therapist for each of the three participants in the film budget, making it clear that, “This therapy is just for you. You can talk about whatever is helpful to you.”
Asherman: Along those lines, filmmakers can create a “duty-of-care” document with their participants. It’s a relatively new concept created by Peace is Loud and the Documentary Participants Empowerment Alliance that outlines several important questions, such as: Are we going to compensate people in the film? Does the participant get any editorial say? Is the filmmaker planning to use AI to recreate archival images or a deceased family member’s voice? Is there a plan to involve the participants in the screening and distribution?
So, making sure everyone understands what they’re getting into, and that all parties agree that this is a project that they want to do.
The Documentary Accountability Working Group also has a fantastic ethical framework that I always recommend to filmmakers, and they just turned it into a syllabus as well.
Barba: I really think there is a move in the last five to 10 years to bring ethics to the fore as an industry-wide exercise, to consider, “What are we doing? How are we doing it?”
There’s a change in culture that is developing, and it needs to continue.
How can viewers recognize potential ethical issues in the documentaries we watch?
Asherman: I don’t think there’s necessarily an easy way to tell if something is being made ethically, but there are, for sure, clues that should get you wondering.
I would be the first to admit I enjoy watching true crime, so I don’t want to villainize it as a genre, but as you watch, you can consider whether graphic depictions of violence are actually furthering the story or potentially just retraumatizing the survivors and their families.
Barba: Right. Does the program focus on morbid curiosity about the perpetrators, or does it feature the voices of the victims and their families? Is this documentary exploiting the victim’s story to keep us hooked, or do the filmmakers seem motivated to help us understand the human cost?
“Strong Island,” which came out in 2017, is a really great example of this. The film is directed by Yance Ford, the brother of the victim of the crime portrayed in the movie.
And, with all documentaries, viewers can ask themselves: Whose point of view is being represented here? Is there a bias in how this story is being told? Whose voices might be missing or undervalued?
Asherman: I’d also encourage looking into the film’s participants. Don’t just ask, “Where are they now?” See what’s been written about them and the film. Are they speaking out against it? Promoting it? Were they part of the Q&A at the film premiere? Don’t hesitate to dig a little deeper.
Finding Your Compass: A Documentary Ethics and Accountability Workshop
Saturday, Dec. 6, and Sunday, Dec. 7
Various locations, Atlanta’s Poncey-Highland neighborhood
Registration is required. Free for college students, $100 for general public and $80 for Atlanta Film Society members.
Emory Center for Ethics presents the workshop in partnership with the Atlanta Film Society, Video Consortium and the Ethics Squad — a filmmaking group dedicated to discussing ethical challenges in nonfiction filmmaking. It is co-sponsored by Emory’s Department of Film and Media.