"Anamnesis"
How do you picture a man who has murdered? A film about the story of Stefan S. And the limits of our imagination. We first meet Stefan in 2015, in the therapy ward of 'Brandenburg Prison'. He's part of the therapy group 'Masculinity And Identity'. Our first impression is of a polite, shy man quickly called into question by one of the warders. He tells us Stefan is an ice-cold woman-killer. The film follows him through the last years of his prison term. Stefan completes the modules of the therapy programme, one of the most progressive in Europe for the treatment of violent criminals and sex offenders. His release approaches. Increasingly, Wright and Kolbe ask themselves some uncomfortable questions: Can anyone really know what's going on inside this man? What can we really understand of his crime? How effective can any treatment for toxic masculinity be, in this world behind bars? And what are they really doing with this difficult protagonist? Stefan S. Does not want to be recognizable in the film. The film move scenes; shot into a theatre space. The part of the protagonist is taken by a puppet, manipulated by two female puppeteers. The film moves between forms, at the limits of representation. Can anyone really know what's going on inside this man? The part of the protagonist is taken by a puppet, the scenes shift into theatre. Truth and falsehood blend in a cascade of presumption.
We first meet Stefan S. In 'Brandenburg Prison', in the group 'Masculinity And Identity'. Every Friday, for 10 weeks, we join these sessions. We observe the men, but also observe ourselves. What goes through our minds, confronted with these men who've committed crimes we could barely imagine? We realize that these imaginings and preconceptions is a major part of the film. Stefan S. Is reluctant about being filmed. With his speech defect, he's often difficult to understand and he leaves long pauses. Closeness as a filmic approach is out of the question. Puppets are often used in therapy situations, to allow patients to step back from their experiences and see the wider picture. For a while, we've been curious about two comments from a theatre director we know who has also worked with puppets. When a pup- pet comes to life, he said, you've to believe it. But nothing can be so dead as a puppet..We follow Stefan for more than four years, but to this day he's as opaque to us as a puppet. We've often doubted whether the therapists have more insight than us. Does Stefan pose a danger, now he has been released? We can only believe in this system, with it's psychologists, instruments, evaluations, judges, recommendations and counter-recommendations.
'The Wing' is housed in a seperate building inside the prison walls. It has room for 80 violent criminals and sex offenders, who live in one-bed cells in a group structure. We call them clients. So the distinction is clear, that this is a 'Therapy Wing', not just the usual prison structure. The aim is that the clients feel part of the therapeutic process, and not just like normal prisoners. It's a multi-modular programme, with different phases of treatment. The main module is our self-management group. It takes place twice a week, with up to 8 men. Each module covers various themes related to the risk factors for violent or sexual criminal behaviours. One expectation we've of the men is that they don't just sit there passively and listen. It's not like school. They've to interact and we try to teach them particular skills. One of those skills is self-reflection. They tell us their biography, their crime is integrated into the whole life story. For many, it's the first chance they've to tell their personal story and this process is always throws up conflicts. They've already been through all that and we can't slip into the role of prosecutors or the police. We're part of the criminal justice system, and the clients are well aware of that. The big challenge we face is to push that aside, so the therapeutic process is also possible inside the justice system. In the past, therapists focused on the concrete circumstances of the crime and making the men confess everything.
Coming clean was something they often talked about. Today, we don't expect them to always tell the truth. In the end, it's healthy for people to lie. They're protecting themselves. The clients who don't lie, who tell us everything, they can be very problematic. Firstly, they can't protect themselves. And secondly, they tell us everything so freely that maybe they don't feel guilty at all. Maybe they think they did everything right. So lies are naturally a part of these stories they tell? Is there an intrinsic truth to these stories. There's a truth, independent of us and how we see things. But it's quite possible that we won't learn this truth, maybe just parts of it. Because people are involved, and people always tell their own stories, which are more or less true. That's particularly true of these very serious crimes; we can't explain them. Judges and experts called in for evaluations try to do this. They want to explain every single step, because they've to prove intent to kill. But it's a fact that in every crime, one factor is the immediate situation, where so many things come together. In one case, there's a murder, in another, it's grievous bodily harm. It's very difficult for our justice system to deal with this. Courts and investigators need clear lines, so they can show respon- sibility. We've the feeling that, faced with a crime like this. Who's really satisfied with that, even if it's true? Everyone else will think, It's always about the overall situation: being angry and all the other factors that come together. It's a bit like a puzzle. And in the whole context, anger can explain something. But only half-explain it. At the end of the day we might say, they're sick sex offenders. But that's not an answer either, it's a label, nothing more. We've access to the case files and we see the misery that victims suffered, how they're killed, or how women and children were abused. If children are involved, many colleagues here have children of their own and you've to be able to separate off those personal feelings in this job. You can never forget the victims. That's also a burden we've to carry. Our goal is that the men never re-offend after a possible release. If we make mistakes in our assessments, it can have serious consequences for the men and for society. We've to remember that we can never arrive at a perfect decision, it's always an assessment. With the training and the instruments we've, we can arrive at relatively good decisions, based on research. But there's always a risk. It remains informed guesswork. But what also helps is that in the release process, the justice system divides responsibility. We write reports, the state prosecutor writes a report, there's an external evaluation, in the courtroom there's at least one other judge involved in the ruling, the prisoner has a defence lawyer calling everything into question and at the end of the day; perhaps there wasn't a consensus, but the rest a process and a debate.
It's a long and difficult process to arrive at this film. Have we lost faith in this form of documentary. The film gets as close aa possible to the protagonist. The documentary tries of delving so intensely into people's lives, then disappearing out of them. What's more, we've the feeling that audiences didn't understand the approach. Who accuses of not presenting our subjects objectively, from several perspectives. We've to see the documentary process as the subjective crystallization of our experiences in dealing with the world. We find that in the world of therapy. On one hand, we recognize ourselves in the patient. But we also identified with the therapists, who form a kind of intimacy with people in the course of their work and, to process this experience on a personal level, must establish a professional role for themselves. It's about rapid advances being made in a field that therapists have long shied away from, and which is politically controversial, therapy for offenders, in particular for violent criminals and sex offenders in prisons. After this film we're left with a feeling of unease. That's linked to our powerlessness. What can we really know about ourselves and, in particular, about others? Confronted with our conceptions of what's evil, we see that our options are limited: we can only show faith, and live with it.
Written by Gregory Mann.
How do you picture a man who has murdered? A film about the story of Stefan S. And the limits of our imagination. We first meet Stefan in 2015, in the therapy ward of 'Brandenburg Prison'. He's part of the therapy group 'Masculinity And Identity'. Our first impression is of a polite, shy man quickly called into question by one of the warders. He tells us Stefan is an ice-cold woman-killer. The film follows him through the last years of his prison term. Stefan completes the modules of the therapy programme, one of the most progressive in Europe for the treatment of violent criminals and sex offenders. His release approaches. Increasingly, Wright and Kolbe ask themselves some uncomfortable questions: Can anyone really know what's going on inside this man? What can we really understand of his crime? How effective can any treatment for toxic masculinity be, in this world behind bars? And what are they really doing with this difficult protagonist? Stefan S. Does not want to be recognizable in the film. The film move scenes; shot into a theatre space. The part of the protagonist is taken by a puppet, manipulated by two female puppeteers. The film moves between forms, at the limits of representation. Can anyone really know what's going on inside this man? The part of the protagonist is taken by a puppet, the scenes shift into theatre. Truth and falsehood blend in a cascade of presumption.
We first meet Stefan S. In 'Brandenburg Prison', in the group 'Masculinity And Identity'. Every Friday, for 10 weeks, we join these sessions. We observe the men, but also observe ourselves. What goes through our minds, confronted with these men who've committed crimes we could barely imagine? We realize that these imaginings and preconceptions is a major part of the film. Stefan S. Is reluctant about being filmed. With his speech defect, he's often difficult to understand and he leaves long pauses. Closeness as a filmic approach is out of the question. Puppets are often used in therapy situations, to allow patients to step back from their experiences and see the wider picture. For a while, we've been curious about two comments from a theatre director we know who has also worked with puppets. When a pup- pet comes to life, he said, you've to believe it. But nothing can be so dead as a puppet..We follow Stefan for more than four years, but to this day he's as opaque to us as a puppet. We've often doubted whether the therapists have more insight than us. Does Stefan pose a danger, now he has been released? We can only believe in this system, with it's psychologists, instruments, evaluations, judges, recommendations and counter-recommendations.
'The Wing' is housed in a seperate building inside the prison walls. It has room for 80 violent criminals and sex offenders, who live in one-bed cells in a group structure. We call them clients. So the distinction is clear, that this is a 'Therapy Wing', not just the usual prison structure. The aim is that the clients feel part of the therapeutic process, and not just like normal prisoners. It's a multi-modular programme, with different phases of treatment. The main module is our self-management group. It takes place twice a week, with up to 8 men. Each module covers various themes related to the risk factors for violent or sexual criminal behaviours. One expectation we've of the men is that they don't just sit there passively and listen. It's not like school. They've to interact and we try to teach them particular skills. One of those skills is self-reflection. They tell us their biography, their crime is integrated into the whole life story. For many, it's the first chance they've to tell their personal story and this process is always throws up conflicts. They've already been through all that and we can't slip into the role of prosecutors or the police. We're part of the criminal justice system, and the clients are well aware of that. The big challenge we face is to push that aside, so the therapeutic process is also possible inside the justice system. In the past, therapists focused on the concrete circumstances of the crime and making the men confess everything.
Coming clean was something they often talked about. Today, we don't expect them to always tell the truth. In the end, it's healthy for people to lie. They're protecting themselves. The clients who don't lie, who tell us everything, they can be very problematic. Firstly, they can't protect themselves. And secondly, they tell us everything so freely that maybe they don't feel guilty at all. Maybe they think they did everything right. So lies are naturally a part of these stories they tell? Is there an intrinsic truth to these stories. There's a truth, independent of us and how we see things. But it's quite possible that we won't learn this truth, maybe just parts of it. Because people are involved, and people always tell their own stories, which are more or less true. That's particularly true of these very serious crimes; we can't explain them. Judges and experts called in for evaluations try to do this. They want to explain every single step, because they've to prove intent to kill. But it's a fact that in every crime, one factor is the immediate situation, where so many things come together. In one case, there's a murder, in another, it's grievous bodily harm. It's very difficult for our justice system to deal with this. Courts and investigators need clear lines, so they can show respon- sibility. We've the feeling that, faced with a crime like this. Who's really satisfied with that, even if it's true? Everyone else will think, It's always about the overall situation: being angry and all the other factors that come together. It's a bit like a puzzle. And in the whole context, anger can explain something. But only half-explain it. At the end of the day we might say, they're sick sex offenders. But that's not an answer either, it's a label, nothing more. We've access to the case files and we see the misery that victims suffered, how they're killed, or how women and children were abused. If children are involved, many colleagues here have children of their own and you've to be able to separate off those personal feelings in this job. You can never forget the victims. That's also a burden we've to carry. Our goal is that the men never re-offend after a possible release. If we make mistakes in our assessments, it can have serious consequences for the men and for society. We've to remember that we can never arrive at a perfect decision, it's always an assessment. With the training and the instruments we've, we can arrive at relatively good decisions, based on research. But there's always a risk. It remains informed guesswork. But what also helps is that in the release process, the justice system divides responsibility. We write reports, the state prosecutor writes a report, there's an external evaluation, in the courtroom there's at least one other judge involved in the ruling, the prisoner has a defence lawyer calling everything into question and at the end of the day; perhaps there wasn't a consensus, but the rest a process and a debate.
It's a long and difficult process to arrive at this film. Have we lost faith in this form of documentary. The film gets as close aa possible to the protagonist. The documentary tries of delving so intensely into people's lives, then disappearing out of them. What's more, we've the feeling that audiences didn't understand the approach. Who accuses of not presenting our subjects objectively, from several perspectives. We've to see the documentary process as the subjective crystallization of our experiences in dealing with the world. We find that in the world of therapy. On one hand, we recognize ourselves in the patient. But we also identified with the therapists, who form a kind of intimacy with people in the course of their work and, to process this experience on a personal level, must establish a professional role for themselves. It's about rapid advances being made in a field that therapists have long shied away from, and which is politically controversial, therapy for offenders, in particular for violent criminals and sex offenders in prisons. After this film we're left with a feeling of unease. That's linked to our powerlessness. What can we really know about ourselves and, in particular, about others? Confronted with our conceptions of what's evil, we see that our options are limited: we can only show faith, and live with it.
Written by Gregory Mann.
