Bobby Beausoleil’s 2026 Parole Hearing: The Questions of Insight, Credibility and Continued Risk

Bobby Beausoleil’s 2026 Parole Hearing: The Questions of Insight, Credibility and Continued Risk

On July 14, 2026, Robert “Bobby” Beausoleil appeared before the California Board of Parole Hearings for his 22nd subsequent parole suitability hearing. After more than five decades in prison, the question before the panel was not whether he had been convicted of murdering Gary Hinman. The question was whether the man sitting before the panel in 2026 remained an unreasonable risk to public safety.

The answer from the two-member panel was yes.

Beausoleil was found unsuitable for parole and received a three-year denial. The panel acknowledged significant mitigating factors—including his age, lengthy incarceration, physical condition, institutional work history, educational development and a risk assessment finding him overall low-risk for violence—but concluded that unresolved concerns surrounding his insight, risk factors, programming and conduct outweighed those mitigating considerations.

The case history could not simply be ignored, but the ultimate question was whether Beausoleil had demonstrated enough growth, insight and behavioral change to establish that the circumstances associated with his past no longer represented a meaningful risk.

The Shadow of the 2025 Parole Grant—and Its Reversal

One of the first major issues addressed was the fact that Beausoleil had previously received a grant of parole at his January 7, 2025 hearing.

That grant was subsequently reviewed by the Board of Parole Hearings and the Governor’s office, and Governor Gavin Newsom reversed the grant.

Beausoleil was asked directly whether he understood why the Governor had reversed the decision.

He identified three concerns. Among them were concerns relating to statements in his Comprehensive Risk Assessment, his communications with the media, and a letter he had written to Cheryl Pickford, a relative of Gary Hinman.

The discussion about that letter became one of the clearest examples of the hearing’s central theme: insight versus self-perception.

Beausoleil acknowledged that including personal anecdotes and information about his relationship with Gary in an apology letter was inappropriate. He said that his participation in victim-impact-related programming had helped him understand why such a letter could be perceived as centering himself rather than the victim.

But there was an important qualification.

Beausoleil continued to defend the sincerity of the letter and said he still stood by its core message. He acknowledged that the Governor’s criticism concerning the way he presented himself in the letter demonstrated a lack of insight, while maintaining that the underlying apology was genuine.

That tension—acknowledging a problem while continuing to defend the underlying behavior—appeared repeatedly throughout the hearing.

The Question of “Adulation” and Narcissistic Traits

Another major issue involved the most recent Comprehensive Risk Assessment.

The assessment had discussed Beausoleil’s history of receiving attention or what the assessment characterized as “adulation” from people inside and outside prison. The concern was not simply popularity. The concern was whether positive attention had reinforced personality characteristics that made it difficult for him to recognize when his own attitudes or behaviors were problematic.

Initially, Beausoleil said he did not fully understand why that language had been used.

As questioning continued, however, he acknowledged that the assessment was referring not only to his distant past but also to behavior during his incarceration.

He ultimately agreed that recognition for his art, music and other work had historically provided gratification and acknowledged that this could become problematic.

Beausoleil told the panel that he had worked to stop making everything about himself and that he no longer needed the same level of attention or recognition.

The commissioners, however, were clearly interested in whether this represented a genuine and sustained change rather than simply an explanation developed for the hearing.

Empathy Became One of the Central Issues

Perhaps the most important psychological theme of the hearing was empathy.

Beausoleil described developing greater empathy as one of the major changes in his life. He said that he had learned to place himself in another person’s position and consider what that person might be experiencing rather than automatically viewing events through his own perspective.

When Deputy Commissioner Vijay Desai returned to the circumstances surrounding Gary Hinman’s treatment, Beausoleil acknowledged something particularly significant.

When asked whether he had been practicing empathy at the time of the offense, he answered that he had not.

He said he did not understand empathy in the way he does today.

The distinction mattered because the Board was not merely looking for a statement of remorse. It was examining whether Beausoleil could identify the psychological and behavioral mechanisms that contributed to his conduct and demonstrate that those mechanisms had changed.

The Continuing Dispute Over the Circumstances of Gary Hinman’s Death

The most controversial issue remained Beausoleil’s account of the circumstances surrounding the Hinman murder.

Throughout the years, Beausoleil has presented a version of events involving a drug transaction, the Straight Satans and money allegedly owed after a mescaline transaction.

During the 2026 hearing, that history again became an issue.

Beausoleil’s attorney acknowledged that there were discrepancies between Beausoleil’s account and the official record but emphasized that his client had maintained his version of events for decades.

The Art and Business Controversy

Another major portion of the hearing concerned Beausoleil’s art and music.

Beausoleil explained that people had purchased his artwork and that money had passed through an outside account. He disputed the characterization that he had been operating a business and maintained that some of his work had previously received institutional authorization.

The panel, however, questioned whether those prior authorizations applied to subsequent activity in California.

The commissioners specifically examined a 2020 disciplinary matter involving unauthorized business activity.

Beausoleil acknowledged the disciplinary finding but maintained that he had acted in good faith and believed he had previously obtained appropriate authorization.

He said that after the 2020 disciplinary action he stopped monetizing his work.

The issue nevertheless remained significant because prosecutors argued that the business activity raised questions about his willingness to follow institutional rules and his credibility concerning money.

The Money Question

The District Attorney’s office requested further investigation into Beausoleil’s financial accounts, particularly payments and transactions involving people outside the prison.

The prosecution argued that the financial history raised unresolved questions about whether Beausoleil had continued engaging in unauthorized commercial activity.

The hearing included discussion of payments made by Beth Hall, whom Beausoleil described as a friend and assistant.

Beausoleil stated that she helped with typing, communications and financial matters.

When asked whether he would cooperate with an investigation into his accounts, Beausoleil ultimately said that he would answer questions concerning money that had been sent to him.

The financial issue became more than a question about money.

For the prosecution, it became a credibility issue.

If Beausoleil’s explanations about his business activity were incomplete or inaccurate, the question was whether that demonstrated the same kind of thinking that had contributed to previous institutional violations.

Victims’ Representatives Presented a Strongly Opposing View

The victim representatives presented some of the most forceful opposition to parole.

Cheryl Pickford’s representatives argued that Beausoleil continued to minimize the seriousness of the offense and that his repeated public appearances, interviews and creative work kept him connected to the notoriety surrounding the murder.

The victim representatives also argued that Beausoleil’s continued presentation of himself through art, music and media attention was evidence of the very attention-seeking behavior identified in his risk assessment.

Kay Hinman Martley emphasized the continuing effect of Gary Hinman’s murder on his family and argued that Beausoleil had not fully accepted responsibility.

Deborah Tate also addressed what she described as continuing inaccuracies in the public discussion of the case and argued that Beausoleil continued to minimize his responsibility.

The hearing therefore became not only a debate about Beausoleil’s rehabilitation but also a confrontation between his interpretation of his personal transformation and the victims’ interpretation of the continuing consequences of his conduct.

The Panel Gave Victims a Broad Opportunity to Speak

There was considerable procedural debate about the scope of victim statements.

Beausoleil’s attorney argued that victim-impact statements should remain focused on Beausoleil, the commitment offense and matters legally relevant to parole suitability.

The District Attorney emphasized the victims’ statutory and constitutional rights to speak.

Commissioner Chappell ultimately ruled that victim statements would be allowed to proceed without continuous interruption, while the panel would determine how much weight to give the information presented.

This became an important procedural component of the hearing because the victim representatives presented extensive arguments concerning historical conduct, public notoriety, business dealings and perceived minimization.

Beausoleil’s Rehabilitation Was Not Ignored

Deputy Commissioner Desai stated that Beausoleil had not sufficiently developed programming addressing negative peer association and violence.

The panel also noted shortcomings in his relapse-prevention planning concerning critical risk factors.

These concerns were weighed against the mitigating evidence.

Instead, it concluded that neither was appropriate given Beausoleil’s age, the victims’ interests and the overall circumstances.

What the Board Wants to See Before the Next Hearing

The commissioners gave unusually clear recommendations for the next three years.

They instructed Beausoleil to:

Remain disciplinary-free.

Avoid new 115 or 128A violations.

Continue earning positive institutional chronos.

Continue self-help programming.

Participate in programming addressing criminal thinking.

Take denial-management programming if available.

Address his history of negative peer association.

Continue victim-awareness and victim-impact programming.

Continue substance-abuse programming.

Develop stronger strategies addressing the risk factors identified by the panel.

Commissioner Chappell stated that the panel had considered the legal standards, the central file, the Comprehensive Risk Assessment, the hearing testimony, the attorneys’ presentations and the victim statements.

The panel concluded that Beausoleil continued to pose an unreasonable risk to public safety.

Parole was denied for three years

You can read the transcript here, or I can give you a link to download the PDF here

It Appears That Bruce Davis Has Died

 I received a message from Colonel Scott that Bruce Davis has died in prison. It took a little searching but I was able to find a website that announced the death, barely. This website I believe belongs to Debra Tate or one of her supporters. 

https://noparoleformansonfamily.com/

I did check the California Inmate Locator website and Bruce is no longer listed as being incarcerated. Beyond that I have no other information. 

From Metal Gods to Manson

 Trailer

If you've ever complained about difficult coworkers, spare a thought for documentary filmmaker Joe Berlinger. Most people have to deal with occasional office gossip or someone stealing lunches from the breakroom. Berlinger? He's spent decades navigating the ego's of rock legends, billion-dollar legal battles, and some of Amercia's most infamous criminals. 

At this point, "awkward work meeting" probably means something entirely different to him. 

Long before Netflix turned Joe Berlinger into one of the biggest names of true crime, he and filmmaker Bruce Sinofsky gave the world Some Kind of Monster- the documentary that proved even heavy metal gods have feelings...and spectacular interpersonal meltdowns. 

Instead of glamours backstage parties, and sold-out stadiums, audiences got a front row seat to Metallica slowly imploding under the weight of fame, frustration, and decades of unresolved tension. 

The solution?

Hire performance coach Phil Towle for a reported $40,000 a month to keep the band members from verbally (or physically) destroying each other.

Think about that for a second. 

Most companies solve workplace conflict with a mandatory HR seminar and stale coffee, Metallica hired a man whose full-time job appeared to be convincing four millionaires not to quit speaking to each other. 

During the film we watch James Hetfield leave for nine months of rehab, Lars Ulrich wrestle with everything from art auctions to band politics, and the group stumble through one emotional therapy session after another. 

Then came Dave Mustaine. 

The former Metallica guitarist. and frontman of Megadeth, delivered one of the documentary's most memorable moments as he openly discussed the lingering resentment of being fired decades earlier. It was uncomfortable, emotional, and fascinating-essentially group session with guitars. 

Hey! I saw it, I'm a big fan of both bands. I mean talk about unresolved tension. Being a fan of both bands is exhausting...when I compliment one band, I feel I need to send the other an apology card. 

Who knew heavy metal could produce this much introspection?

As if rock-star drama weren't enough, Berlinger eventually discovered that sometimes the biggest conflict isn't on camera-it's inside a courtroom. 

His documentary Crude chronicled the environmental lawsuit involving communities in Ecuador and oil giant Chevron. The film itself became part of the legal battle when Chevron sought access to hundreds of hours of unused footage. Berlinger argued that, as a documentary filmmaker, his unpublished material deserved journalistic protection. 

The court wasn't entirely convinced. 

Judges concluded that because Berlinger had accepted editorial suggestions from lawyers representing one side of the case, he had blurred the line between independent journalist to participant. That distinction proved costly, weakening his claim to journalistic privilege. 

It's one of those legal lessons no filmmaker wants to learn firsthand. 

Moral of the story?

If the attorney says, "I've got a few editing suggestions," it might be wise to slowly back away from the final cut timeline.

Having survived Metallica's emotional civil war and a lengthy legal battle, Berlinger eventually settled into the world of true crime. 

Because apparently that seemed less stressful. 

His Conversations with a Killer series has explored infamous figures including Ted Bundy and John Wayne Gacy, combining archival footage with interviews and historical context to examine some of America's most notorious crimes. 

Now the series concludes with Charles Manson, bringing Berlinger's long journey full circle-from documenting some of music's biggest personalities to examining one of history's most infamous "cult leaders".

Considering everything he's encountered over the years, one almost wonders whether if working on this felt calmer than sitting through another Metallica therapy session. 

From Berlinger's Instagram. 

"Format: A three-part documentary series 

This is the fifth and final installment in the Conversations with a Killer true crime series. 

Features rare prison phone recordings of Charles Manson that is "never-before-heard-audio. 

Includes firsthand accounts from former "Manson Family cult members", law enforcement officials, and people close to the case. 

Rather than building on the mythology of Manson, the series examines the specific systems of psychological manipulation and control he used during the 1969 murders in California."

So basically another documentary that puts the victims on the sidelines...with everything that has already been said before. I wonder if Stephanie Schram has come out of the woodwork to promote her alleged upcoming book?

The Elderly "7-Ups" Enduring Indefinite Incarceration

Nearly 200 People Are Serving Indefinite Sentences in California. These Are Some of Their Stories. 

by Kevin Sawyer | August 7, 2026

The award-winning incarcerated journalist Kevin D. Sawyer wrote the following article with support from the Ridgeway Reporting Project, managed by Solitary Watch with funding from the Jacob and Valeria Langeloth Foundation and the Vital Projects Fund. The article was originally published in Inquest.

• • • • • • • • • •

In 1978 Steven Douglas Drown, a 28-year-old originally from Iowa, entered the California prison system to serve a sentence of seven years to life for murder. When Drown first entered prison, Jerry Brown was serving his first term as governor. Jimmy Carter was president of the United States, and the Bee Gees topped the pop music charts. Back then, Drown was fresh out of the Navy with an honorable discharge.

"I came out to California with an Iowa attitude," said Drown. "I never prepared myself for life. Everything was always given to me." He said his parents and the military did not teach him much responsibility, and he had no life experience. "I was arrogant. I cared only about myself."

Drown is one of 191 people serving a seven-years-to-life sentence for murder under the state's old Indeterminate Sentencing Law. We refer to them as "7-Ups." A public records request filed with the California Department of Corrections in 2024 revealed a number of previously unknown details about this cohort. The longest-serving 7-Up entered prison as a 14-year-old in 1958, when Dwight Eisenhower was president. The oldest 7-Up is now 93 years of age. About half of them have spent 50 or more years in the custody of the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR), at an estimated cost to taxpayers of about $6 million each. On average, they have each appeared before a parole board 14 times.

Academic research and the California parole board's own risk assessments agree that people who have served life terms have low risk of recidivism. Some may not have killed anyone; prior to 2019, California's felony-murder law allowed murder convictions for anyone who participated in a felony during which a death occurred, regardless of agency or intent. Others committed infamous assassinations or murder sprees as young adults. What they share in common are not their crimes, but the political decisions made by the state legislature, voters, parole boards, and governors that account for their lengthy incarceration.

In general, people given an indeterminate prison sentence must serve a base term, or a percentage of the total sentence, before their initial parole suitability hearing. From there on, they continue at routine intervals to appear before a parole board until such a time as the board deems to set them free.

In most cases, the board's decision seems predetermined: according to CDCR data, between 2018 and 2023 only about one in three people who appeared before the parole board got to walk out of prison. This is despite the parole board's own data, which shows that lifers who get out of prison almost always stay out. CDCR granted parole to 8,000 people with long sentences over a ten-year period; recidivism ranged from 2 to 4%, with fewer than 1% returning to prison for a felony crime against a person. Tracked over an equivalent nine-year period, the general recidivism rate in the United States is closer to 80%. Despite the fact that recidivism is therefore vanishingly small among those who have served long sentences, most parole boards, including California's, remain reluctant to give lifers a chance at freedom. As Bobbi Cobaugh has argued in Inquest, there is little hope when the original crime is allowed to trump all other considerations. It is a perspective held even by former members of California's parole board. In a July 2000 declaration, Albert M. Leddy, former chairman of the Board of Prison Terms (BPT, California's parole board), wrote:

"BPT panels find prisoners 'unsuitable' for parole based mainly or entirely on the facts and circumstances of their offense instead of their level of dangerousness, as reflected by performance, rehabilitation and expert evaluation in their prison records. Because the facts and circumstances of crimes do not change, the procedure effectively increases all such sentences from life with possibility of parole to life without any possibility of parole."

After spending more than half his life behind bars, Drown doesn't look like anyone's stereotype of a hardened criminal. He looks like the old man in line at the hardware store. When I first spoke with him last year, he had appeared before the parole board fifteen times. Despite having no record of violence in prison, he has never been found suitable for release.

"The last two I got were seven-year denials," said Drown. "My last disciplinary report was 31 years ago."

On June 27, 2024, Drown returned from his sixteenth parole hearing looking defeated. He had received another three-year denial. "I'm embarrassed to say they denied me again," he said, adding he felt "dejected." He said the board adds new requirements for release each time lifers attend a new parole hearing. "What else do I need to do?" he asked.

For people with high-profile convictions, going before the parole board can feel even more hopeless.

The only 7-Up woman, 78-year-old Patricia Krenwinkel, is a former member of the Manson Family. She was sent to prison in 1971 after her conviction for seven murders, according to CDCR records. (She was initially on California's death row, but the California Supreme Court's 1972 People v. Anderson case commuted all death sentences to life sentences.) In 2022, and again in 2025, the parole board finally decided in her favor, but both times Governor Gavin Newsom reversed their decision. The power to do so was granted by California voters to the governor in 1988, and governors have since used it freely.

Bruce Davis, who is now 83, was also a member of the Manson Family and entered prison in 1972 on a double murder conviction. He has appeared before the parole board 34 times—more than any other 7-Up. He has been recommended for parole seven times, but the findings have been rejected by three consecutive governors. This follows a national pattern of state governors growing ever-increasingly miserly with their powers to approve parole and grant clemency, seemingly acting on the assumption that no one ever lost an election for keeping someone in prison.

"We're in a system where the politics hinder us from getting out," Davis agreed. Asked if he wants justice, the octogenarian said, "I don't want justice. If I was given justice, they'd execute me. What I want is mercy."

It's not just high-profile cases like Krenwinkel's and Davis's that have had their parole process turned Sisyphean by law-and-order politics. Across the board, it has become nearly impossible for 7-Ups to receive a fair hearing before the parole board.

"Convicted murderers don't deserve any more breaks," California's then-governor Pete Wilson declared in his 1992 State of the State. The parole board listened. According to Keramet Reiter's book 23/7, the parole board held more than 18,000 hearings between 1992 and 2000. It only granted parole in 173 cases—a success rate of 0.96%. The next eight years weren't much better; between 2000 and 2008, the parole board denied release in nearly 98% of cases. And even in the rare case that the board did grant parole, the state governor (first Gray Davis, then Arnold Schwarzenegger) rejected the decision more than 60 percent of the time, Reiter wrote.

Since 2014 California has enacted reforms that have expanded parole eligibility, including for youth offender and the elderly. For the elderly, parole boards are now instructed to consider a prisoner's diminished physical capacity and underlying health issues to determine whether they would pose a risk to public safety. All 7-Ups are eligible for release under elderly parole legislation. These reforms have made parole a possibility for lifers once again. Last year, the board granted parole in 25% of the cases it heard.

Even with those changes, however, California has one of the lowest parole rates in the country, behind Alabama and South Carolina. Eligibility, in other words, is far from a guarantee, and for many lifers the reality is that their chance of receiving parole in California remains vanishingly small. And in the current political climate in California—perhaps most notably, saddled with a governor with presidential ambitions—routes to more sweeping changes are often foreclosed. For example, in 2023 California lawmakers introduced Senate Bill 81, which would have overturned a parole board denial if a court found evidence that a prisoner would not present a current, unreasonable risk of danger to others, thus modifying the judicial standard of review. But Governor Newsom vetoed it.

This chokehold on parole has contributed to a rapidly escalating crisis of aging in California's prisons. In 1999 the portion of the state's prison population over the age of 55 was 3%, according to the Prison Policy Initiative. Today, it's 22%. All of the people discussed in this article are elderly.

Gregory "White Eagle" Coates is another elderly 7-Up I spoke with. Now 68, he has been incarcerated for more than 50 years. "I came in as a juvenile," he said. "I became eligible [for parole] in 1981." Like many 7-Ups, he meets the requirements both for youth offender parole and elderly parole. CDCR records show he has appeared before the board ten times.

Coates said he was found suitable for release on parole in 2018. But a victims' rights organization convinced Governor Brown to reject the parole board's decision. "Instead of getting angry, I started doing more programs," Coates said. He has participated in many of the self-help programs offered at San Quentin, and at all the other prisons at which he has been kept. "Everywhere I've been, I've done nothing but programs."

Coates went before the parole board again in October 2024. Another denial. Unless something dramatic happens with the political winds or the will of California voters, he won't be eligible for another hearing until he's 70.

1971: Sharon Tate’s Parents Speak in Their First TV Interview

Incredibly rare footage of Sharon Tate’s parents, Doris (known affectionately as Gwen), and Paul Tate – then just 47 and 48 respectively – giving their thoughts about the outcome of the Tate/LaBianca trial, the defendants, and their lives after the loss of their daughter and grandson.

 

In Memory of Louise Labianca

There are some people who come into your life unexpectedly and leave a lasting impression on you. For me, Louise LaBianca was one of those people. 

I had not heard from Louise in a couple of months, so when I learned of her passing, I was devastated. It is difficult to put into words the sadness that comes along with with losing someone who was genuinely sweet, kind, and a thoughtful woman. Louise deserved far more time, far more happiness, and far more peace than life ultimately gave her. 

One of the things that first brought us together was something ordinary: music. 

Louise and I discovered that we shared a love for many of the same bands, and those conversations became something I always looked forward to. We could talk about music, trade opinions, reminisce about songs, and artists, and simply enjoy the fact that we had so much in common. Among her favorites were the B-52's, a band she genuinely loved. It might seem a small thing, especially compared with the tragedy that surrounded so much of her family's history. But those conversations allowed me to know Louise as Louise-not simply as the daughter of Leno LaBianca. 

That distinction is important. 

Louise carried a part of her father's story with her throughout her life, and we talked about Leno and the murder that changed her family forever. She spoke about her father and about the profound effect his murder had on her and those around her. What struck me the most was that, despite all the years that had passed, there were still questions and emotions that never completely went away.

Louise had never fully understood why her father had been killed. She wanted answers, she wanted the truth. More importantly she wanted people to know who her father really was rather than allowing myths, rumors, and sensationalized stories to define him. 

That meant a great deal to her. 

Leno LaBianca has often been reduced to a name in a book or a victim in a notorious crime. But to Louise, he wasn't a footnote. He was her father. He was a person she loved, remembered, and continued to grieve. She wanted to clear up the myths surrounding him and make sure the man behind the name was never forgotten. 

We also discussed Rosemany.

Louise did not have the same depth of memories of her step-mother that she did of her father, she did not know Rosemary well enough to have the kind of relationship that might have developed and circumstances been different. Yet the memories Louise did have of her step-mother were remarkably loving and motherly. Those small memories mattered. Even though they were limited, they represented a connection to someone who was taken from her far too violently and far too soon. 

There is something particularly heartbreaking about hearing someone speak about a parent they were never given the opportunity to know fully. 

Louise lived in that absence. 

But Louise was much more than the tragedy that happened to her family. 

She was funny, she was kind, she was passionate about music. She was someone who could sit and talk for hours about bands and songs, and forget, at least for a little while, about the darkness that had followed her family for decades. 

That is how I will remember her. 

I will remember the conversations about music. I will remember discovering how many of the same bands we liked. I will remember talking about the B-52's and how that I am a "southern boy" and tended to love those bands from Athens area of Georgia since it was just 2 hours away from where I lived in Chattanooga. Those conversations made her smile. I will remember our conversations about her father, her step-mother, and the complicated feelings she carried because of what happened to them. 

Most of all, I will remember Louise as a sweet woman who wanted nothing more than to understand the past and make sure the truth wasn't buried beneath decades of sensationalism. 

She deserved to be heard. 

She deserved to be remembered for who she was. 

And she deserved to have people see Louise-simply not as Leno LaBianca's daughter. but as a woman with her own memories, her own passions, her own personality, and her own story. 

I am deeply sorry that I didn't get the chance to speak to her again before she passed. Knowing that I hadn't heard from her in a couple of months makes the news even harder to process. There is always that feeling that perhaps there would have been another conversation, another discussion about music, another story about her father, another opportunity to tell her that what she was doing mattered. 

Unfortunately, there wasn't. 

Louise I hope you finally have the peace that you spent so much of your life searching. 

I hope your father is remembered not merely for the horrific circumstances of his death, but for the life that he lived and the daughter who never stopped caring about him. 

And I hope your memories of Rosemary remain a reminder that, despite everything that happened, there were moments of love and tenderness that belonged to you and cannot be taken away. 

Thank you for the conversations, the music, the memories, and the trust. 

You were genuinely a kind and sweet woman, Louise and I'm grateful our paths crossed. 

You will be missed. 

Rest Peacefully, Louise. 

The Price of Profit - Anthony DiMaria Speaks Out

 You can read Anthony's article here

For nearly sixty-years, The "Manson Family" murders have been more than just a historical tragedy; they have been transformed into a self-sustaining "Manson Industrial Complex", a genre of media that prioritizes entertainment over visceral reality of human loss. Recently the release of the Disney+ and Hulu documentary My Grandfather Charles Manson, this exploitation reached a new, disturbing low.  Anthony DiMaria-nephew of Jay Sebring and a tireless advocate for victims, has voiced a necessary and scathing critique of this production. Anthony is correct: these narratives are "parasitical cash grabs" that treat the brutal slaughter of human beings as "cotton candy entertainment for the masses". Having been approached to work on this very documentary, I can confirm that his assessment of the industry's cynical motivations is entirely accurate. 

When I was asked to participate in the production of My Grandfather Charles Manson, the underlying logic was made quite clear. I was told the more people involved-specifically the surviving members of the victims family members-the larger the production budget would be. This confirms Anthony's point that victims are not viewed as human beings with "true human dimension," but as "insignificant props" used to increase the market value of a production. The grief of a family is quite literally a line item in a production budget, while corporations like Disney+ and Smuggler Entertainment promote the "dark side" of Charles Manson as a curiosity to be discovered, they conveniently overlook the fact the victims were real people-flesh and blood- whom continue to be used as "insignificant props" in the peddling of their own deaths. 

The documentary tries to frame, as I said before,generational trauma, through the lens of Sophia Arguelles, whom discovered Charles Manson was her grandfather via a DNA test. But as Anthony DiMaria argues, the real trauma belongs to those that were butchered and their families. Anthony also argues that we must not let a "good story" overshadow the unflinching facts of what occurred to the victims. 

To pivot the conversation towards the emotional journey of a killers descendant while "the victims remain silent in their graves" is not just insensitive; it's a moral failure. Anthony highlights the evidence from Smuggler Entertainment, the production company, gaining access to Bruce Davis's parole hearing under the guise of "media attendance" only to have Sophia herself-the subject of the film-observe the hearing and "listen" to the victim's impact statements. 

Deb covered this in 2024 here

Anthony also point's out that Danny and Sophia attended Family Jams Day 6, where Anthony says is a day for Manson "apologists and groupies" to celebrate the anniversary of the killings with beer and live music. As Anthony asks, if the filmmakers were truly interested in the "human dimension" of this tragedy, why isn't the footage of them smiling and laughing with "Manson fans" included in the film? *NOTE* I personally do not believe Family Jams to be a day to celebrate the anniversary of the murders BUT I have also never attended Family Jams because it's not my "bag". This is merely my opinion and it in no way is discrediting Anthony's opinion. Anthony has every right to feel the way he does. 

Anthony also says Shame is the only appropriate response to those who continue to laugh all the way to the bank at the expense of the haunted and the grieving, and that we must always remember the names the "profiteers" often treat as secondary: Gary Hinman, Sharon Tate, her unborn child, Jay Sebring, Abigail Folger, Wojciech Frykowski, Leno Labianca, Rosemary Labianca, Donald Shea, Steven Parent.

How To Stop Worrying and Monetize My Meltdown - My Grandfather Charles Manson review

 Finding out you're biologically related to one of America's most infamous "cult leaders" is undeniably a bad day. But does discovering you share DNA with a "historical monster" you've never actually met warrant an entire feature-length documentary focused on your own emotional distress? according to the film-makers of My Grandfather Charles Manson, the answer is a resounding, tear-filled "yes."

 The result is a highly polarizing film that walks a wobbly tightrope between profound psychological exploration and a self-indulgent reality show. 

Therapy belongs behind closed doors, Not on screen

Let's start with the detractors, who have completely dog-piled this documentary with low scores. Critics and viewers alike are calling the documentary erratic, cringeworthy, and an over-dramatic public airing of family grievances. The main sticking point? The math of the emotional reaction simply doesn't add up to the reality of the situation. The main aspect that didn't work for me was the repeated comparisons between her father, Danny and his father, Charles Manson. I found those comparisons to be unnecessary, and frankly ridiculous. In several instances, they seemed to paint Danny as a villain by drawing parallels that I don't believe were warranted. Rather than letting the viewers understand Danny on his own terms, the documentary appeared to frame him through the lens of Charles Manson, and I don't think that was either fair or justified. 

This brings us to one of the most eye-rolling moments in the documentary: the therapy sessions. We watch Sophia earnestly explain to her therapist, Dr, Rose, what happened to her father, trying to frame the fact that she was "overprotected" as a severe case of, you guessed it, generational trauma. Let's clear something up right now: having what we call a "helicopter parent" who keeps a close eye on you might be annoying, but being overprotected is not generational trauma. 

To be fair, the documentary has it's defenders. For a select few, this was a raw, engrossing look at-you guessed it- generational trauma, and how ordinary people grapple with sudden earth-shattering family secrets.

These reviewers argue that the documentary accurately captures the dizzying, paralyzing "what ifs" that come with inheriting a "monsters" genetic legacy. If you can get past the melodrama, the erratic pacing isn't a flaw; it's just an honest reflection of how messy it is to suddenly realize your family has a massive, poisonous root. 

The Snake in the chair 

Whatever side of the fence you sit on regarding the filmmakers, we all need to unite to talk about the absolute circus act that is Nik Schreck. Frankly the man is a snake, and his interview is an unintentional comedy goldmine. 

Early on, Sophia sets the stage by telling us that Nik steadfastly defended Charles Manson over the years. Cut to Nik opening his mouth and immediately throwing Charlie so far under the bus he practically implies felony murder. Thanks, friend! 

If Schreck were a patient of mine, the alarm bells would be deafening. Just observing his body language is a masterclass in deception and anxiety. The nervousness of touching his face before the interview started, and the frantic swiveling in his chair act as a desperate, self-soothing physical reassurances to calm himself down. 

He looks like a guy trying to talk himself out of a parking ticket, not a stoic defender of the truth. 

Because of this deeply disingenuous vibe, the best part of the documentary is when Danny finally stands up to Nik, and flat-out tells him he doesn't believe a word he is saying. It's a beautifully cathartic moment of common sense. 

To top it all off, Nik shoots his "defense"  in the foot by casually admitting that while Charlie may have denied any role in the murders, that doesn't mean it's true. Gee, thanks for the hot tip, Nik! we really appreciate you going out of your way to clarify that absolutely nothing a "serial manipulative cult leader" said can be taken at face value. With friends like you, who needs enemies?

The other character of this circus is Nik's old pal, Ed Roach, The man who can't keep a story straight on how he met Charles Manson. Ed somehow managed to set the bar even lower. Watching Roach's interactions with Sophia is a masterclass in how to present yourself as a thoroughly disgusting human. The sheer perversion in the way he talks to her is beyond uncomfortable- it's repulsive. It leaves you wondering how anyone involved with the production let those exchanges fly without stepping in, adding an extra layer of grossness to a wildly inappropriate circus, which also includes a cell phone recorded argument between Sophia and Danny that appears to have happened after the Nik Schreck interview. There was no need for that dirty laundry to be aired like that. 

It was nice to see Stephanie Schram after all these years. Contrary to what Sophia called "anti-Manson" books when Stephanie showed Sophia her research material, I believe they are, in fact, essential reading.  Whether one agrees with their conclusions or not, understanding the full scope of the subject requires examining multiple resources and perspectives. 

My own view is similar to that of Lynette Fromme's comments regarding Manson In His Own Words. While the title suggests the book contains Charles Manson's own words, he did not actually write it. Even so I believe there is a thread of truth running though the book. Of course, Mel embellished much of the material-or, if he didn't the publisher likely did. But that is a topic for another time. 

I also have no personal issues with Diane Lake. She's a sweet lady. My disagreement is with the narrative, not Diane herself. Much like Stephen Kay, she was repeating the same old talking points. Even Diane has acknowledged that the publisher and her ghost writer took many liberties with her story. 

If I'm not mistaken, someone is welcome to correct me on this, but didn't Diane say that Charlie was not trying to start a race war in this documentary? I honestly can't bring myself to go back and watch it again to verify, I've already sat through it twice, and I just can't a third time. 

I also felt the interview with George Stimson was cut far too short. Given his depth of knowledge, it was a missed opportunity to provide more context and information. 

My Grandfather Charles Manson is a wild ride, but perhaps not for the reasons it intended to be. If you want a grounded deep-dive, skip this. But if you're in the mood for an over-the-top airing of grievances, questionable definitions of trauma, and the sheer comedic joy of watching Danny tell a swiveling Nik Schreck that he's full of it, grab some popcorn, 

Abigail Folger: A Time In New York Part II

Continued research into the life of Abigail Folger has taken me in several directions. This post will highlight this quest with emphasis on Abigail's life in New York prior to moving to Los Angeles. In my earlier post on this period of Abigail's time in New York, I uncovered a personal letter she wrote to a friend, detailing both her employment and interests in New York City, as well as her excitement over her relationship with Voytek Frykowski. (See the post here on the blog, Abigail Folger: A Time In New York, Dec. 2, 2020).

Prior to leaving San Francisco for New York, Abigail worked at the University of California at Berkeley Art Museum. (This museum was the old university art gallery building, and should not be confused with the concrete modernist structure which succeeded it, opening in the fall of 1970.) In an effort to track down her exact dates of employment at Berkeley, I contacted the university HR office for help. A review of their records was provided to me, looking at the years 1965-1969 for reference. Abigail did not appear in any of those years as a paid employee of the university. It was explained to me, however, that she was likely paid by a third party, or may have been an unpaid volunteer.

University of California Berkeley Old Art Museum where Abigail worked, helping to organize the Fine Arts Council.

Interior of the new Berkeley Art Museum, which opened in November of 1970. SF Chronicle photo.

It is known that Abigail's boss at Berkeley was the iconic Peter Howard Selz. He is famously quoted in the press after the murders as saying that Abigail did not "act, look, or dress like a hippie." In an effort to locate Selz' papers and the museum archive, I made contact with his daughter, who said she did not have information on Abigail, but did direct me to the Archives of American Art at the Smithsonian Institution. 

Peter Selz, Abigail's boss at Berkeley.

Looking through every relevant file folder and photo in the archives during the time Abigail would have worked there, I discovered nothing. The only possible indication in the records appeared at the bottom of typed correspondence, where the typist leaves his/her initials. On many of these the initials "AF" appeared--a tantalizing possibility, but unfortunately nothing significant to showcase her employment prior to relocating to New York.

Teaming up with her friend, Andreas (Andy) Brown--a fellow San Francisco resident--the pair travelled to New York in August of 1967. Brown was finalizing the purchase of the famed Gotham Book Mart from Frances Steloff, and offered Abigail employment, as she probed the other side of life and existed on the edge of the thriving literary and artistic scene there.

I discovered the archives of the Gotham Book Mart at the University of Texas at Austin Harry Ransom Center. This archive is extensive, and houses the records of the business, photographs, and much more. After extensive research, I did not locate any photos of Abigail, but I did find absolute proof that she did, in fact, work at the bookstore. I found the weekly pay and tax records of the staff, and have identified that both Brown and Abigail began work at the bookstore on the same date.

Abigail's pay sheet for the entire time she worked at the Gotham Book Mart. Note the short duration of employment.  This document, and that of Andreas Brown, following, courtesy of  Gotham Book Mart Records, Harry Ransom Center, the University of Texas at Austin , Container LSF36 Subseries B. Financial Records.

Andreas Brown pay sheet. He began work at the bookstore at the same time as Abigail.

At the top of Abigail's statement, we see that she was a temporary New York resident, and was taxed as such. This no doubt would likely indicate that she planned to return to California at some point. In fact, her lease on her Upper West Side apartment would last only from August of 1967 to August of 1968. Her home address when she began work at the bookstore was listed as the San Francisco address of her mother.

It is interesting here that Abigail's employment was of such a short duration. In fact, a number of weeks of her future planned employment had been crossed out. It almost seems abrupt. Although there is no concrete proof of it here, we may wonder if this would have been the time she met Voytek Frykowski. Traditionally, it has been said that Abigail first met writer Jerzy Kosinski at the Gotham Book Mart, who then introduced Abigail to Voytek at a later time--presumably at a literary party around Christmas time in 1967. But when exactly did she meet Kosinski?

To answer this question I consulted the Ed Sanders archives at Princeton University. After an extensive review of all of the Folger and Frykowski files in the Princeton collection, I discovered little that I did not already know. The only thing of note that I found was from an interview Ed Sanders conducted with Jerzy Kosinski on Nov. 21, 1970. This interview, like all of Sanders' material, was hand written on blank sheets of paper. Here are a couple of quotes from that interview:

"Reasons  Kosinski introduced Gibby to Voytek--

1) He was interested in learning English & they both were fluent in French.

2) $"

"Kosinski met Gibby at party when she was working at G.B. Mart. Then, later, he introduced her to Frykowski."

"According to Jerzy Kosinski, Abigail made $130,000 [per year] after taxes, but only spent about $12,000."

Ed Sanders in 1968.

Novelist Jerzy Kosinski, who introduced Abigail Folger to Voytek Frykowski, was also instrumental in bringing both artist Witold-K and Voytek to America and ultimately into the orbit of Abigail.

The common denominator in this New York period for all of these individuals was the Gotham Book Mart. To be sure, it was here that the initial meeting between Abigail and Kosinski took place, initiating a cascade of events that would ultimately culminate on Cielo Drive in August of 1969.

Interior view of Gotham Book Mart as it looked when Abigail Folger worked there. This and the following photo of Andreas Brown courtesy Gotham Book Mart Records, Harry Ransom Center, the University of Texas at Austin, Container 31.4 Subseries A, Gotham Book Mart Operations.

Andreas Brown (left) at a Gotham Book Mart literary party book signing. It was at exactly such an event where Abigail met Kosinski.

To better illustrate this period in Abigail's life, I turn to the Kosinski novel, Blind Date, to offer some guidance:

"Later you started writing to Woytek, urging him to defect to the West. Your letters turned our life upside down. Suddenly, all Woytek talked about was Levanter --[Kosinski] his closest friend, already settled in America, while he was wasting his time with me. He imagined himself with you in Paris, London, New York, Los Angeles...So I lost him to you, Levanter. And to Gibby, that American heiress you found for him. And look how it all ended!"

Levanter had telephoned Gibby and told her he had to see her alone to talk about Woytek. They met at a cafe near Centeral Park. "How is Woytek's English coming along?" he asked. "It's improving,' she said. "But surely you didn't ask me to meet you to talk about Woytek's English." "I didn't. It's about the two of you." Gibby looked apprehensive, almost panicky. "Did Woytek ask you to talk to me?" "No."

"What is it then?" She stared at him, her eyes magnified by the thick lenses of her glasses. Levanter was having difficulty beginning.

"I know you and Woytek have no secrets from each other," she encouraged. "You're his only close friend in New York. You can be direct with me."

"Ever since I introduced you to Woytek," said Levanter, trying to sound casual, "you and he have lived in that same tiny West Side studio. yet you have unlimited charge accounts at all of the best shops in town, your wardrobe is made by the finest designers, and your jewelry is worth thousands of dollars. Woytek doesn't have a penny. If he wants to buy a pack of cigarettes, he has to borrow it from his friends. He's wearing the clothing he arrived in from Eastern Europe because he can't afford anything new. It looks to me as if you've suddenly turned into a penny-pinching shrew, acting as if you were on your own."

Gibby shifted in her chair. "What's wrong with being on your own?" "Nothing. But you aren't exactly on your own. You come from one of the richest families in the country and have a trust fund that yields a great deal of money. On top of that, there have been large financial gifts and inheritances over the years. Still, with all your wealth, you won't help Woytek, the man you love." "I won't give Woytek money, if that's what you mean. I don't want people to think that the one man I want is the one I have to pay for," she said stubbornly.

"Are you going to live your life with Woytek according to what other people might think?" asked Levanter. Gibby looked away. For a moment, Levanter thought she wasn't listening. He grew impatient. "If you're so concerned with how people think, why do you tell them everything about yourself? Why do you say that before you met Woytek your life oscillated between drinks and sweets, with pot in between? That, intellectually, Woytek is the first man you haven't had to talk down to? That only with Woytek can you be open and honest?"

Gibby interrupted. "Woytek loves me for what I am. What I do with my money is my own business." 

"But not what you do with Woytek," said Levanter. "I feel responsible for him. I arranged a blind date for you and Woytek so he could have someone intelligent to speak French with, since that was the only other language he knew then. I didn't expect him to be destroyed. With you, he's vegetating, but he loves you too much to leave you. It seems to me that you are preventing both of you from enjoying your money and the life it could offer: the world of travel, of new experiences, of ideas, of people."

"I don't want Woytek to be known as a man without a profession, living off my money," said Gibby. "I don't care what kind of work he does, as long as he supports himself like everybody else." 

"But he's your lover, and you're not like everybody else," Levanter said sharply. "you are unusually rich. You and your lover are thereby excluded from the fate of the ordinary. Woytek was once a wealthy and educated man. Then he became a refugee. He's been here only a year--half of which he's lived with you .He doesn't know English well enough to pursue his profession. You quit your own job when you fell in love with him. Why do you want him to work? Don't you understand that getting a job would keep him from studying English? And what do you suppose he could do? Don't try to answer me," said Levanter. "Just listen for a minute."

Gibby glared at him.

"All Woytek is suited for at the moment is menial labor: parking cars, scraping paint off ship decks, cleaning bars, [all things that Kosinski did when he arrived in New York from Poland in 1957, while working on his Ph.D dissertation at Columbia University and before he met Mary Hayward-Weir] something like that. He could earn about as much in one month as you spend in one week on restaurant tips when you take your rich cousins to lunch. And it costs you more to pay your monthly phone bill for long-distance calls to your college chums than Woytek would make in an entire year."

Levanter paused. Gibby did not speak.

"What is your reasoning?" Levanter asked. "Do you believe that as long as he's penniless everyone will think Woytek stays with you for yourself, whereas if you give him money, everyone will think he loves you just for the money?"

Gibby remained silent.

Levanter went on. "Woytek was a superb athlete. He used to play soccer and basketball and was one of the best swimmers in his country. He loved company and enjoyed being surrounded by creative people. Now he's cooped up in your ground-floor apartment where he can't even see daylight, and he can't afford to get out. You've made him your prisoner."

"Maybe I should take him to California," Gibby said, more to herself than to Levanter. She went on without waiting to hear Levanter's opinion. "My family is there, and Woytek knows people in Hollywood. There are also those film directors he knew in Europe," she mused. "Near them, Woytek might regain his own sense of accomplishment and pride--and possibly find work."

She looked at Levanter, expecting some response, but now he said nothing. (Jerzy Kosinski: Blind Date. Grove Press, p 166-169. 1977. Emphasis is mine).

Of course it could simply be Kosinski's rhetorical license at play here, but the passage where he says that Abigail left her job (presumably at the Gotham Book Mart) when she met Voytek may indeed be true. Her early resignation from employment at the book store was obviously after she met Kosinski and may have been prompted by the early introduction to Voytek. Taken together, her total employment at Gotham Book mart was only a few weeks, and subsequent employee reports for 1968 do not have her listed as an employee. Although Abigail did not need to earn a living from employment, she nonetheless accepted payment for her work as a clerk at the book store--perhaps this was a requirement.

BRINGING TOGETHER THE FUTURE PEOPLE OF CIELO DRIVE

At the time Abigail was working at the Gotham Book Mart, another interesting parallel was taking place in New York. Roman Polanski's film, Rosemary's Baby began filming scenes in New York at several locations--one of these was at the Gotham Book Mart with Mia Farrow. My current research did not reveal if Abigail was present during the filming--possibly as a background actor--but this possibility cannot be entirely ruled out. One thing that is certain is that Abigail's Upper West Side apartment was only a short walk from the Dakota Apartment Building where some exterior shots of the film were made.

The famous--or infamous--Dakota Apartment Building where Roman Polanski filmed exterior scenes for Rosemary's Baby when Abigail lived nearby.

Photographer Hatami, Roman Polanski, and Sharon Tate on the set of Rosemary's Baby in New York, 1967.

Mia Farrow outside the Dakota during filming of Rosemary's Baby, 1967.

Abigail and Voytek in Central Park, New York.

Although it is not certain, it is tempting to think that since Roman Polanski was friends with Jerzy Kosinski and Voytek Frykowski-- and the three were in New York during the filming of Rosemary's Baby-- that the three of them could have reunited on the set. Sharon Tate also visited the set in New York and was widely photographed there. Of course Abigail was there, and if both she and Voytek had already been introduced, it may be possible that Sharon, Abigail, and Voytek could have met. This could also have included Mia Farrow, who has been reported in some literature to have been in contact with Abigail, presumably in Los Angeles later on. One notable absence was artist Witold-K, who was in Paris at the time. Kosinski would help him come to America, and ultimately into the orbit of Abigail and Voytek, in 1968. Witold-K eventually would set up his small painting studio in Abigail's apartment and would dedicate to her one of the paintings he produced there.

To try to answer the above question, I finally was able to make contact with Roman Polanski. This spring I learned of an address where Roman could be contacted, so I wrote him a letter asking for any information he would care to share about Abigail and Voytek, and their association with both he and Sharon. In the letter I left my email, and about six weeks later I received a response. Through his personal assistant, Roman suggested that I read his autobiography for all things related to Abigail. This I said I had done several times. I was assured that Mr. Polanski had nothing else to offer to satisfy my query. However, I left the door open to him should anything else previously unpublished materialize.

Another interesting discovery was to be found in an interview of Jerzy Kosinski in 1977 with Studs Terkel about the book Blind Date. In the interview, Kosinski said that Abigail was a "student of his." What he means by this he does not say, but it may imply that Abigail could have been studying creative writing with Kosinski privately, as she was an English literature graduate. Kosinski also told Terkel that he introduced Abigail to Voytek in New York because, "they were nice people and they both spoke French." Contrast this with what Kosinski told Ed Sanders about that introduction in 1970 (see above).

Although this present research took several months to compile, it did not yield a surplus of information for my subject. At first this may seem unfortunate. But one thing it does make clear is that--by a process of elimination--certain archives may be crossed off the list of potential sources of information on Abigail and Voytek. My project in this regard is to chronicle the lives of Abigail Folger and Voytek Frykowski. And long before they became famous victims of the Manson Family, these people had lives that have been largely overlooked.

 

My Grandfather Charles Manson - New Doc

I was originally asked to be a part of this documentary, but for personal reasons I stepped back and walked away before any NDAs were signed. I wish Sophia all the best and hope she gets and finds what she is looking for in life. That said, I will keep opinions to myself concerning certain matters, but I also want to emphasize that the current use of the Maddox last name has nothing to do with any opinion I do or don't have. 

To clarify-and to avoid coming across as sounding bitter-the deciding factor in my choice to step away was simply that I disagreed with Sophia's original vision for the project. Her early ideas were based on unfounded claims. For example, she had planned to contact surviving family members of the victims, such as the surviving family members of Leno and Rosemary LaBianca just to ask ridiculously absurd questions, such as, "Did Rosemary LaBianca sell or supply LSD to Tex Watson through Joel Rostau?" 

That is just a small gist of the original ideas presented. I wanted no part of that, nor did I want to jeopardize the existing communications and relationships I hold. After discussing my reservations with a friend and realizing the direction the project was heading at that time, I knew I had to bow out. 

The documentary also features George Stimson, Nik Schreck, and Derek Haze (also known as Black Wolf). Apparently Derek provides Sophia with recordings of calls between himself and Charlie.  I have to admit, those would be interesting to hear.  

Here we get an updated look at Danny Arguelles 

 A brief summary of the documentary: 

The three-part series beings with Danny, who learned while his mother was dying that the man who raised him was not his biological father. In 2015, he decided to take a DNA test through Ancestry.com to see if he could locate his real father. The results connected him with a newly found half-brother through the Maddox side of the family, and it was then that Danny discovered his relation to Charles Manson after conversing with his half-brother. 

Armed with this life-altering revelation, Sophia plunges into her family's "dark history." Because of her lineage, she supposedly gains access to previously unseen and unheard recordings, as well as "secret" documents relating to Charlie's psychopathy. Through her investigation, Sophia explores the underworld of the so called "Manson family" and their responsibility for the 1969 murders. 

The documentary heavily focuses on generational trauma and identity. From a psychological standpoint, it is odd for Sophia to claim generational trauma if that happens to be the case. She never knew Charles Manson, much less communicated with him, nor did she know the victims or their families. In fact, during my time of knowing her, she didn't know anything about the case.

The series highlights the heavy emotional toll the revelation takes and the immense strain it places on Sophia and her father. I believe she may be confusing stigmatization with generational trauma. However if you really wish to learn what generational trauma is, look into the history of Native Amerians-whose trauma was handed down from generation to generation through land dispossession, destruction of culture, forced assimilation, and systemic poverty. 

Throughout the documentary, Sophia wrestles with the unsettling question of what traits we inherit from our ancestors.  At one point, she even takes a psychological questionnaire akin to the one Manson took to see if they share any behavioral similarities. The show ultimately asks whether we are destined to repeat "dark histories" we inherit, or if we can forge our own path. 

Psychologically speaking, if she were psychopathic, she would have known it long before now. It doesn't develop overnight. During childhood, a person with psychopathic traits is typically diagnosed with Conduct Disorder, as outlined in the DSM-5 (the manual psychiatry uses to diagnose and treat mental disorders). By late adolescence and early adulthood, if those traits persist, the diagnosis becomes Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD). I'm curious as well to see how that works out for her. 

As a side note, the word "antisocial" is vastly misused these days. I've known patients that describe or refer to themselves as "antisocial" simply because they aren't highly social, and I've seen Facebook photo's with banners that say "Sometimes Antisocial, Always [insert cause here]." In clinical terms, Antisocial Personalty Disorder is a chronic pattern of violating the rights of others. Someone with ASPD may exploit or deceive others for personal gain and demonstrate little to no remorse or empathy for their actions. When people casually say they are antisocial, they are inadvertently claiming to embody everything ASPD represents as a disorder, they just don't know it or realize it...but that is another topic for another time.

Premieres July 22, 2026 on Hulu 

You can watch the trailer here