Why Geeta Gandbhir likens ‘The Perfect Neighbor’ to a horror film

Eschewing the usual talking-heads format common in documentaries, The Perfect Neighbor is composed entirely of surveillance footage in all permutations. Camera phones, police security tapes, and body camera footage form the visual grammar of the film; as such, we’re called to simply bear witness to the horror that unfolds.

JoySauce spoke with Gandhbir about the film, which is streaming on Netflix and has been shortlisted for the Documentary Feature Film category at the Academy Awards (nominations will be announced Jan. 22). She spoke about viewing the film’s construction as like a horror film, her personal connection to the story, and using body camera footage as the ultimate truth-telling device. 

This interview has been edited for clarity and length. 

Zachary Lee: The way you use the body camera footage is unlike anything I’ve ever seen in a documentary before. Can you speak a bit more to that aesthetic choice, in particular to not have any talking heads footage?
Geeta Gandbhir: We didn't want to go back and retraumatize the community by asking them about what happened. They had to go through detective interviews, a whole news cycle. By the time my team and I got the body camera footage, it was about two months after the incident. 

There was a singular world and perspective in the body camera footage that I didn't want to interrupt. Body camera footage is undeniable. There's no interviewer, no journalist, no film team on the ground asking questions that might seem biased to an audience. Even the Marion County sheriff, after the film came out, said, “(This film) is 100 percent true because of this body camera footage.” In today's world, where the media is often questioned, there’s an undeniable element of truth to the film.

There’s also an honesty with the body camera that we wouldn't be able to get otherwise; when we see the body camera footage of people responding to police, they’re often functioning as if they are completely unaware of the camera.

My team and I came to terms with the fact that Ajike is reflected in the community and her children. You see how beloved she was and how the community came out to fight for her. The police, unintentionally, captured what made that community so compelling.

ZL: I know you have a personal connection to this story. I’m curious about whether you can speak to the significance of your approach to this, given that the issue of policing and gun violence is usually a Black-and-white issue.
GG: My husband, Nikon Kwantu, is also a producer on this, and his cousin, whom I refer to as my sister-in-law (who is also an executive producer on this film), was Ajika’s best friend. It was that proximity to the story that was my entrypoint. 

Normally, if this were a story I was not equally connected to, I might have felt that I shouldn’t tackle it. I don’t walk through the world as a Black or African American person. Ajika did. I may have made a different choice of how to tell this story as a result. But making this film was a family affair, and that’s why we felt as though we could tell this story. The team that made this film was aware of the racial dynamics at play in what happened. We had the blessing of Ajike’s mother, who became family to us over time.

Critically, this was also a collective process. I am the director, but I will say that the producers on the team are absolutely so important. I do think this is a universal story in many ways. The question of, “How do we show up in our community?” can apply to all because a microcosm of how we show up in the world is reflected in what kind of bystander, upstander, neighbor, etc., we are. I hope that people see that Ajike’s community is a microcosm of our greater society, the best and worst of it.

ZL: As a filmmaker, I’m curious how you kept the dignity of this story front and center even while being aware that you had to create a film and, on some level, had to“entertain.”
GG: I come from a scripted background, and in watching the footage, the material played like a horror film. The Blair Witch Project has been one of my references. 

ZL: You also mentioned Paranormal Activity?
GG: Definitely. This came out later, but Adolescence as well. Our film came out first, but that genre is in the same spirit. We’re filmmakers first, and as a documentary filmmaker, it was really important to give a holistic perspective of what happened. Everyone’s perspective mattered, including Susan’s. We left Susan in as herself, as well as the perspectives of the police. 

ZL: I think of that scene where Susan is in her nightgown and the way she enters into frame, it’s very much out of a horror movie. You’re mining the natural drama of everyday life.
GG: Exactly. At that moment, it was very much like a jump scare. The police officer is startled and jumps back. That footage is exactly as it was. We didn’t interfere with it. By letting the story unfold, what happens tells itself. 

ZL: What I find striking about The Perfect Neighbor is that it’s on Netflix, where a lot of other true crime documentaries and projects reside. Netflix, as well as other streaming services, is home to docs that delve into sensationalism and those that are like yours. Have you given much thought to where it ended up, that it’s existing alongside some manifestations of the “true crime” genre you were trying to push up against?
GG: What’s interesting is that I wasn’t thinking of this film as a “true crime” film. I was just thinking about what was in front of me and the best way to tell this story. It was only after that Netflix came to us that the idea of true crime was brought up. 

I personally think that there's space for everything in entertainment. What made the most sense when it came to a partnership with Netflix was its reach. We knew with this film, if we want to make any kind of substantive change in the world using the film as a tool, then that kind of reach and groundswell is important.

We also felt that some people might watch our film and think it might be one of the more—as you described—salacious pieces, but then they might be surprised and realize they’re seeing something they might not have seen otherwise.

ZL: In my understanding, you and the team were able to get access to the police body cam footage through the Freedom of Information Act process. You’ve said that the present administration wants to change it?
GG: I think the thing that my team and I are most concerned about is body camera footage. There are only eight states where body cam footage is required for police. That is something that we're worried about going away. You can see how important body cam footage was in this case, because it basically detailed the story and conflict leading up to the actual incident. The use of body camera footage is kind of critical, and if that goes away, it’s worrisome that there will be no proof of what actually happened.

ZL: What your team accomplished with the deployment of the bodycam footage was fascinating because you took something that is usually a weapon of the state and turned it into a tool that showcases the vibrancy of the community. A real swords-to-plowshares moment.
GG: Exactly. The camera can be used as a truth-telling device, and it can also show negligence. As you see in the footage, the police came multiple times to the scene and did nothing. They never saw Susan as a threat and didn’t think the community needed protection.

ZL: Your film has made me think of what Viet Thanh Nguyen has said about the importance of capacious and shared grief. Thank you for making art that allows us to communally mourn, and hopefully, from that mourning, can blossom movement and change.
GG: Thank you for quoting that. That is so important to me because that’s what this film is about. We’re asking people to bear witness, which isn’t always comfortable. By not turning away, we can see where we need to grow. Bad things can be perpetuated in the dark and we have to shine a light on them. That’s how we keep democracy functioning.