Lorena Bobbitt documentary series comes up short in explaining battered woman syndrome
In the early 1990s, tabloid television began to make its mark. Whether due to genuine interest or simply schadenfreude, the human element of the legal battles the programming portrayed offered many a certain level of entertainment.
Domestic violence is never entertaining, though. However, like so many other criminal activities, the circumstances surrounding the crime can be outrageous to the point of being near unbelievable. The facts of Lorena and John Wayne Bobbitt’s tale fit that bill, and their case took the world by storm.
Focus on the incident
I first noticed the new docuseries, Lorena, as I was perusing my Amazon Prime account. I decided to give the first of four episodes a chance, but I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. I knew Jordan Peele produced the series, but I was hesitant as to whether his comedy-sketch background or more recent forays into suspense and horror would take center stage.
Due to the unique nature of the Bobbitt case, I wondered if the docu-series would take the incident seriously or fall back on the multitude of penis cliches and jokes at its disposal. Sure enough, the first episode began with individuals involved in the investigation discussing their recollection of the facts—all the while trying to hide subtle smirks or outright laughs as they described a wife mutilating her husband’s genitalia. About 30 minutes in, the episode began to take on a more appropriate tone.
The docuseries takes the viewer on a journey through the couple’s background and their history of domestic violence, the night of the incident, and their lives following the conclusion of their criminal cases. A jury found John not guilty of marital sexual assault (rape). Likewise, a separate jury also found Lorena not guilty of malicious wounding by reason of temporary insanity.
Subsequent to their criminal trials, John and Lorena went down two different paths. Immediately following her acquittal, Lorena was committed to a maximum security psychiatric hospital for 45 days. After selling the rights to her story, she turned to a life of advocacy for victims of domestic violence. John, on the other hand, continued to chase the newfound “stardom” his predicament presented, only to wind up working as a stripper and pornographic actor before falling victim to a botched penis enlargement surgery, and finally more criminal charges, including other domestic violence cases.
A missed opportunity
My biggest complaint with Lorena is that it fails to address the specifics of battered woman syndrome in detail. Part of that could be due to the diagnosis’ fairly recent development. After all, the theory itself wasn’t even introduced until the 1970s and did not gain widespread recognition until the 1980s. Sadly, that information is never relayed to the viewer, as the series doesn’t present much history regarding battered woman syndrome and the research behind it.
The Bobbitt case raised the level of domestic violence awareness across the nation. Consequently, I felt the series wasted an excellent opportunity to further raise awareness while also educating the general public on a very real issue. However, even the last episode, which began with Lorena’s verdict, failed to probe the status of the defense at that time of her trial and the progression of a credible legal theory based on a critical mental health issue.
Finally, toward the last half of the final episode, the docuseries discussed the Violence Against Women Act — “Joe Biden’s baby” — and the development of domestic violence funding and support. However, even when the series attempted to focus on the issue, it was only sporadic. Regardless, the series did provide some discussion regarding the act’s development and the political issues it encountered in the mid-1990s amid a change of guard in U.S. politics. Still, the treatment of the topic was scant. I understand if the production team wanted to focus on the era the incident occurred in, but the series would have received a great deal of context and credibility if it focused more on the issues that led not only to the incident but to Lorena’s acquittal as well.
Battered Woman Syndrome in practice
Even though the science and reasoning behind domestic violence and battered woman syndrome is more widely accepted today as opposed to 25 years ago, practitioners on the ground level know there are still plenty of hurdles in applying the science behind the law.
I have personally run into disagreements with prosecutors when I assert clients’ domestic-violence related mental health issues. In what seems to be too often the case, prosecutors are apt to use a battered woman syndrome diagnosis when it aids their case while brushing it aside if it does not. It has become the norm for prosecuting attorneys to offer testimony from experts regarding the “wheel of violence” or the “cycle of abuse” to explain a victim’s behavior. Those same attorneys will dismiss the notion their theories could apply equally in a separate case concerning a defendant’s mental state, though.
Consequently, I have received mixed results when asserting the syndrome in my clients’ defense. Although Oklahoma (my native state) statutorily guarantees a party’s right to present expert testimony concerning the effects of domestic abuse on the beliefs, behavior, and perception of the person being abused, in my experience the law is more often applied in favor of the prosecution.
While the state of Virginia (where the Bobbitt trials occurred) seemed to view battered woman syndrome as more akin to an insanity defense, Oklahoma case law classifies the theory under the umbrella of self-defense. Self-defense is an affirmative defense that, once established, shifts the burden back to the prosecution to prove beyond a reasonable doubt it does not apply.
The main problem here is that battered woman syndrome isn’t merely applicable in self-defense cases. The syndrome can be used to explain why a battered woman does, or fails to do, various other acts such as child abuse, neglect, or something violent … like malicious wounding. Under a strict reading, Oklahoma’s case law does not allow the presentation of expert witness testimony in those situations. Although the applicable statute recognizes (in writing) the effects domestic violence can have on a person’s perception, that doesn’t always translate into practice.
The difficulty with domestic violence cases
In handling domestic violence cases, I often come to proverbial blows with the prosecution over a single, but complex, question: When can a person recant an allegation of domestic abuse? When do we know if a person is stuck in the wheel? If a person claims domestic violence during mutual combat, can it be recanted? Or does every situation in which someone recants devolve back into the “cycle of violence”? It’s a tough distinction to make, and there are no hard-and-fast rules to guide us.
As a criminal defense attorney, I have defended more clients charged with domestic violence than I can count. Although it is widespread, the act is often kept in the shadows or behind closed doors. It’s not an easy topic to discuss.
That difficulty shows through in Lorena. The production spends more time discussing the characters involved in the drama as opposed to the afflictions that affect them. Every time I thought an episode was going to delve into the specifics of batterers and the individuals they abuse in detail, the narrative would pivot back to another aspect of the story.
More focus on the development and use of battered woman syndrome, including its effect on victims and use as a defense in varying situations, may have taken away some of the series’ entertainment value, but that would have been for the better.
Adam Banner
Adam R. Banner is the founder and lead attorney at the Law Offices of Adam R. Banner, a criminal defense law firm in Oklahoma City. His practice focuses solely on state and federal criminal defense. He represents the accused against allegations of sex crimes, violent crimes, drug crimes and white collar crimes.
The study of law isn’t for everyone, yet its practice and procedure seem to permeate pop culture at an increasing rate. This column is about the intersection of law and pop culture in an attempt to separate the real from the ridiculous.