The intricate relationship between Black Americans and police body camera footage is a focal point in Geeta Gandbhir’s groundbreaking documentary, *The Perfect Neighbor*. Through this lens, Gandbhir aims to challenge the dominant narrative that often portrays such footage as merely a tool for law enforcement, instead highlighting its potential to humanize marginalized communities.
In a recent discussion, Gandbhir articulated her perspective on body camera footage, stating, “It is a violent tool of the state that is used, too often, to criminalize people of color. Or used for surveillance to protect the police.” With *The Perfect Neighbor*, which premiered on Netflix, she flips this narrative, using nearly exclusively police footage to tell the tragic story of Susan Lorincz, a white woman who shot and killed her Black neighbor, Ajike Owens, in June 2023. The documentary chronicles the disturbing events leading up to this fatal encounter, showcasing how Lorincz frequently summoned law enforcement against her neighbors for trivial grievances, despite being a renter herself.
The film delves deep into the circumstances surrounding the shooting, including Lorincz’s attempt to invoke Florida’s controversial stand-your-ground law as a defense. Her claim was that she feared for her life when Owens knocked on her door, demanding a conversation after Lorincz allegedly threw a pair of skates at her son. Ultimately, Lorincz was convicted of manslaughter and sentenced to 25 years in prison, but for Owens’ four children, the damage was irreversible.
Gandbhir, who received the Sundance 2025 US Documentary Competition Directing Award for this work, emphasizes the broader implications of such laws. She argues, “Laws like stand-your-ground embolden people to take matters into their own hands, commit crimes, and then claim self-defense.” This documentary serves not just as a recount of a tragic incident but as a clarion call for systemic change.
The journey to creating this documentary began with a personal connection to Owens’ family. Gandbhir was motivated to support the family in sharing their story when they found themselves grappling with the slow pace of justice. After obtaining over 30 hours of body camera footage through a Freedom of Information Act request, the process of editing and piecing together this raw material began. Gandbhir described her emotional labor in sorting through the footage, acknowledging the grief involved in reliving the tragic events.
One of the film’s most striking decisions was to forgo traditional talking head interviews in favor of allowing the footage to speak for itself. Gandbhir and her team felt that immersing the audience in the body camera footage would create a more authentic and impactful experience. “We wanted it to play like a narrative, like a thriller,” she explained, trusting viewers to engage deeply with the visceral nature of the material.
Throughout the documentary, Gandbhir aims to convey the chaotic aftermath of Owens’ death, particularly the moment when her family learns of her passing. The pacing of the film is carefully crafted to mirror the tumultuous emotions of the night. By choosing to include only the most essential footage, Gandbhir sought to avoid exploitation while still delivering a raw representation of the impact of gun violence.
The police’s portrayal in the film is nuanced; while they do not exhibit overt aggression, their failure to recognize Lorincz as a genuine threat highlights systemic biases. Gandbhir points out that the police treated Lorincz as a nuisance rather than a dangerous individual, failing to hold her accountable for her repeated harassment of the neighborhood. “Had she been a person of color, I think it might have gone very differently,” she reflects.
As the documentary unfolds, viewers witness Lorincz grappling with her privilege and entitlement during her arrest. Gandbhir captures a moment where Lorincz refuses to comply with police orders, showcasing her disbelief that she could be facing consequences for her actions. This scene serves as a powerful commentary on the intersections of race, privilege, and justice.
Despite the tragic loss of life, the conviction of Lorincz for manslaughter is a bittersweet victory for Owens’ family. Gandbhir acknowledges the complexity of achieving justice in such cases, suggesting that the legal system often opts for lesser charges as a safer route, influenced by past outcomes in high-profile cases. “I think manslaughter was the easy thing, actually,” she states, highlighting the ongoing struggle for true accountability.
Reflecting on the documentary’s goals, Gandbhir emphasizes the importance of sparking action and reform. “How can we repeal laws like stand-your-ground, that do such great harm?” she questions, underscoring the alarming statistics that link these laws to increased gun violence. The film serves as a crucial reminder of the human cost behind such legislation, urging audiences to bear witness to these realities.
In a poignant conclusion, Gandbhir expresses hope that *The Perfect Neighbor* can ignite discussions around gun reform and systemic change. By offering a platform for Owens’ family and community to share their story, the documentary aspires to create a ripple effect that leads to meaningful transformation. As Gandbhir aptly states, “It takes a global movement to change laws, and for a cultural shift to happen.”

