Steven Avery and the Importance of Storytelling
If you have a Netflix account, we’re betting that you may have recently come off a 10-hour binge of watching the docu-series that’s been garnering tremendous hype, Making a Murderer. Even if you aren’t a Netflix subscriber, the media attention and cult-like following surrounding Steven Avery’s infamous murder trial has been near-impossible to ignore.
Most people who have watched the series have a strong opinion about Avery’s role (or, lack thereof) in Teresa Halbach’s murder. Avery’s fate has polarized the nation, with some individuals vehemently defending Ken Kratz’s version of events, arguing that the series may have been too one-sided, and could have left out critical evidence. For others, the evidence that was presented in Making a Murderer was enough to absolve Avery entirely in their minds (not to mention his teenage nephew, whose limited mental capabilities were sinfully used to the investigators’ advantage during interrogations).
Theories are circulating on Reddit pointing to other suspects. Nancy Grace is adamant about his guilt. People magazine interviewed Ken Kratz. And, we’d be remiss if we forgot to mention Avery’s attorneys, Dean Strang and Jerry Buting: people across the nation have fallen for these righteous hero figures, fast and hard.
But let’s not overlook the women behind it all: Making a Murderer was put together over the course of ten years by filmmakers Moira Demos and Laura Ricciardi. They began filming the docuseries in December of 2005, and even moved to Wisconsin for a period of two years to effectively capture the events that were unfolding in Manitowoc County. That’s some true dedication, and all in the name of capturing the story of Steven Avery. Yet, interestingly enough, the filmmakers are not invested in Avery’s fate.
In a recent Rolling Stone interview, Ricciardi says, “We have no stake in the outcome of the trial; we have no stake in whether Steven is innocent or guilty.”
If you’re like us, that statement probably made you do a double take.
No stake in Avery’s verdict, despite spending 10 years documenting his story? What, then, is it all about?
The simplest answer comes from Ricciardi herself. She says, “We were taking a procedural look at the system.”
That may come off a bit insensitive at first, but let’s think about what she’s saying for a minute.
Whether or not Steven Avery is guilty – and it’s possible we’ll never know for sure; by now, any hope for complete transparency and unaltered “truth” is virtually shot – Ricciardi and Demos have given Avery the greatest gift that anyone could want. They’ve shared his story.
Yes, it matters whether or not Avery is guilty. It matters to the family of the victim, and for many, the resolution of the story and whether or not it will come to any sort of a satisfactory ending hinges solely on whether or not Avery had a part in Halbach’s murder.
But the filmmakers are right. That’s not the most important part of this. What’s most important is that Avery’s story is being told, and it’s prompting everyone who hears it, watches it, or reads about it, to think. We’re questioning whether or not he was treated fairly by our judicial system. Many can agree that, whether or not he or Dassey had any involvement in the crime, they were most certainly not given a fair chance at justice in the courtroom. Add to that the gross mishandling of the rape case, for which Avery spent 18 years in jail despite being innocent, and you have a man who serves as a stellar example of just how quickly your own justice system can work against you.
Ultimately, after watching Making a Murderer, we’re left not only questioning whether or not Steven Avery and Brendan Dassey killed Teresa Halbach, but also how in the world such an obvious abuse of power could have played out without repercussion. Some viewers are left with questions about Manitowoc County, others still may come away feeling disillusioned about the Wisconsin judicial system as a whole. And many feel compelled to do something about it: there were nearly 360,000 signatures included in the petition to free Avery, which made its way all the way to the White House (they even issued a response).
Still, it makes you wonder: how many other instances like this have occurred? Or, how many injustices are still ongoing? If we hadn’t had Ricciardi and Demos to record and share Avery’s story, many of us would probably never have known about it. Or, perhaps we’d have gotten snippets of it from the news, here and there. But we’d never have been given the chance to hear the whole story.
The point we’re trying to make is this: tell your story. Everyone has a story to tell. It may not be – and in fact, we hope it’s not – as shocking as Steven Avery’s. It may not even be true, and it doesn’t have to be: some of the greatest stories that have penetrated the consciences of millions are works of fiction. While nonfiction works like The Diary of Anne Frank and The Origin of Species certainly play a role in shaping the way we think about the world, we also have fiction works like Uncle Tom’s Cabin and Brave New World, which certainly have just as great of an impact on society.
Maybe you won’t get hundreds of thousands of readers, viewers, or listeners right now; perhaps not ever. But if your story can make someone think, dig a bit deeper, and question the things that were once taken for granted (like justice), then it demands to be told.
