\n<\/p>\n
The concept of \u201ccoercive control\u201d entered the lexicon<\/a> about a decade ago and has become an increasingly prevalent theme in the true crime genre. Pioneered by Evan Stark, a researcher and expert on domestic abuse, it refers to a pattern of abusive behavior and manipulation \u2014 including isolation, humiliation, financial abuse, stalking and gaslighting \u2014 used to dominate a partner. Men are most often, but not always, the abusers<\/a>.<\/p>\n Coercive control \u201cis designed to subjugate and dominate, not merely to hurt,\u201d Stark, who died in April<\/a>, said in a London court in 2019 while testifying on behalf of a domestic abuse victim who\u2019d murdered her husband. She, appealing her conviction, was subsequently released from prison.<\/p>\n Here are four picks across television, film and podcasting that show how this form of psychological abuse, though hard to prove as a crime, ruins lives.<\/p>\n Podcast<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n Because I\u2019ve watched every episode of the MTV show \u201cCatfish,\u201d<\/a> I thought that this six-chapter investigative podcast from Tortoise Media, which explores a true story in which coercive control overlaps with catfishing (tricking others, often into a romantic relationship, using fake digital profiles), was unlikely to shock me.<\/p>\n But the saga \u2014 about Kirat Assi, a woman from London whose life was turned on its head for nearly a decade after she fell for \u201cBobby\u201d via Facebook \u2014 still managed to test my tolerance for how little legal recourse the deceived parties have. The story also speaks to why the damage caused by coercive control and by the proliferation of catfishing should not be minimized.<\/p>\n Documentary Film<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n These types of manipulations generally fall under the \u201cif it\u2019s too good to be true\u201d warning, but few exemplify coercive control like \u201cThe Tinder Swindler.\u201d This 2022 Emmy-nominated documentary from Netflix tells the saga of the con man Shimon Hayut (also known as Simon Leviev) who swept women he met on Tinder off their feet with whirlwind fairy-tale romances, complete with private jets and five-star hotels, before preying on their humanity and fears in order to bilk them out of millions of dollars.<\/p>\n \u201cHe was smart and funny and very impulsive,\u201d said Pernilla Sj\u00f6holm, one of the three victims who appear in the film.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n \u201cI shared my whole heart with him,\u201d said Ayleen Charlotte, another.<\/p>\n \u201cThe victims of these kinds of emotional crimes are often dismissed,\u201d the film\u2019s director, Felicity Morris, told Deadline<\/a> when the documentary was released, adding that often the police just laughed at them when they reported the crimes. These women, though, were not deterred, and their determination to bring Hayut to justice \u2014 and not be shamed into silence \u2014 gives this story a rewarding spin.<\/p>\n DOCUMENTARY SERIES<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n This three-part Netflix series from 2022 is similar to \u201cThe Tinder Swindler\u201d in that it tells the story of a man, Robert Hendy-Freegard, who psychologically entrapped and fleeced several people out of huge sums of money. But this story \u2014 which involves bizarre scare tactics and disturbing kidnappings \u2014 is more extreme, horrifying and haunting at every turn.<\/p>\n The docuseries gives a comprehensive overview of the elaborate situation and offers painful portraits of those affected, including pleas from the two adult children of Sandra Clifton who say Clifton disappeared from their lives after meeting Hendy-Freegard through an online dating site years prior. Another victim<\/a>, Sarah Smith, recalls the depths of his mind games, which, she says, included starving her and locking her in a dirty bathroom for weeks.<\/p>\n The hunt for Hendy-Freegard, who masqueraded as a British secret agent, cut across numerous countries, including the United States. Chasing him was \u201clike chasing a ghost,\u201d said a Scotland Yard detective who worked on the case.<\/p>\n Podcast<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n If you missed this six-episode podcast during the height of its popularity (it was among the most downloaded<\/a> of 2017), it is still worth a listen. In part, it might be responsible for bringing the concept of coercive control further into the mainstream as well as for propelling a slew of true crime offerings on the subject in the years since, including the ones above.<\/p>\n The podcast \u2014 from Wondery and The Los Angeles Times, based on the reporting of Christopher Goffard \u2014 follows Debra Newell, an interior designer from Southern California who falls for a seemingly wealthy and kind anesthesiologist, John Meehan, whom she met on a dating site for people over 50 years old. But Meehan is a master manipulator. Newell and Meehan\u2019s troubling courtship is compelling enough, but perhaps even more so are the roles her daughters, Terra and Jacquelyn, play in the events.<\/p>\n As Mike Hale, a New York Times critic, put it<\/a>, \u201cDirty John\u201d is \u201clike being in the middle of a multicar pileup that spins around you in slow motion, all the wreckage floating through the air for your examination.\u201d<\/p>\n If you prefer a television adaptation, check out the 2018 series<\/a> starring Connie Britton as Newell and Eric Bana as Meehan. While watchable, it is not as successful as the podcast at capturing the story\u2019s complexity.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n