Netflix’s crime docuseries begs legal, ethical questions

On September 22, Netflix released the documentary series 'Crime Stories: India Detectives!'. Produced by Minnow Films and Netflix Studios, it got unprecedented videography access to live cases investigated by the Bangalore City Police. The Kannada series, with English subtitles, featured detailed interviews with the accused, the investigating officers and their superiors. It was well received and quickly made it to the Top 10 on the popular streaming site.

A week later, on September 29, one of those facing trial requested the City Civil Court in Bengaluru to refrain Netflix from airing Episode 1. He said the episode had violated his privacy and exposed him to ridicule and harassment, even while the trial to determine his guilt was still pending. The court issued a notice to Netflix, but did not restrain it from airing the series. The petitioner then approached the High Court on October 1, and succeeded in getting it to stop Netflix from airing the first of four episodes.

The criminal justice system in India presumes an accused to be innocent until the prosecution establishes his ‘guilt beyond reasonable doubt’. The Constitution also accords the accused the right against self-incrimination: they cannot be compelled to provide evidence to establish their guilt. Therefore, legally, any reference to a person’s guilt can only be made after the prosecution establishes a case before a criminal court.

The Madras High Court in 1980 said the process of investigation was necessarily confidential. It ruled that copies of the investigation proceedings should be made available, even to the accused, only after a charge sheet is filed. In 2010, the Supreme Court observed that premature disclosures or leaks to the media might not only jeopardise and impede the investigation but also allow the real culprit to escape from the law.

The Netflix series covers the investigative process in vivid detail. The filmmakers get one-on-one interviews, sometimes conducted inside a police station. The filmmakers travel with the investigating officers in their official vehicles with cameras rolling through the entire trip. They capture excellent documentary material, and provide first-hand insights into the functioning of the police machinery.

Though riveting, the series may have run afoul of various judicial pronouncements, Constitutional safeguards, and statutory provisions. But, at the same time, it asserts the artistic rights of artists and filmmakers. The law says a citizen’s fundamental right to free speech cannot be curbed without reasonable cause.

Many options were available to balance the contrary pulls. The documentary could have covered the investigations once the trial was complete, or simply deferred airing the series till then. Balance and compassion should not be jettisoned so casually.

Filmmakers have the power to tell stories, the gumption to speak truth to power, and make people sit up and listen. This power carries a heavy ethical responsibility to decide if a story ‘must’ be told merely because it ‘can’ be told.

A filmmaker would need to consider if his art should hold someone guilty even before a definitive judicial trial has examined the evidence. Documentaries about active investigations often ensure that all sensitive information is scrubbed prior to airing.

Everyone loves a good story, few can tell a good story, and fewer still can tell a story at the right time. Today, Netflix can tell the best stories, but should it tell them?

(The author is an advocate practising in the High Court of Karnataka)