Louis Theroux is not one to shy away from a difficult story. After all, he is a man who doesn’t shy away from interviewing neo-Nazis, porn stars and Scientologists. Tell Me You Love Me, the latest documentary from his production company Mindhouse, follows the controversial affair between an American philosophy professor and a severely disabled man. It’s not for the faint-hearted, but that’s not the case with any crime documentary worth watching. This is a deep dive into a scandal that raises complex questions about the nature of consent, disability and love.
Anna Stubblefield, a professor of philosophy and disability at Rutgers University, first met Derrick Johnson in 2009. Derrick was born with cerebral palsy, a condition that requires round-the-clock care and makes verbal communication impossible. But his mother Daisy and brother John were convinced that he was fully aware of his surroundings and longed to express himself.
Stubblefield offered to make this possible using a controversial technique called “augmentative communication,” in which a therapist helps a disabled person type their feelings on a keyboard. It’s a nice concept, but it has no provable basis: scientists say only the intermediary can be the source of the typed message.
Johnson’s life changed under Stubblefield’s care. He took college courses, wrote literature essays, and wrote about his desire to fall in love. In messages he typed, he described how “no punishment is worse than silence” and how he longed for the “hopeful joy of communication.”
Stubblefield was convinced that he was an intelligent, sensual man who was held back by his family, who prevented him from realizing his potential. Eventually, the two fell in love and had sex in her office: a moment that would change their lives forever.
John and Daisy were furious when they heard about the affair. Stubblefield insisted that Johnson initiated the sex and was fully capable of consent, but his family was not convinced. Shortly afterwards, Stubblefield was suspended from the university and investigated by local police for rape. She was convicted of sexual assault in 2015 but was released after an appeal. To this day, Stubblefield maintains that Johnson was deeply in love with her and that she had no influence on his “communication” over the keyboard.
Tell Them You Love Me is told from the point of view of the Stubblefield and Johnson families. The film moves slowly, but it’s refreshing to see a documentary take its time telling a complex story. Director Nick August-Perna has done a remarkable job of balancing the narrative given the strong emotions of both parties, allowing the viewer to make up their own minds about whether Stubblefield is a devious predator or a benevolent lover. Other contributors, such as outspoken speech therapist Dr. Howard Shane, help add important scientific context.
At times, the film’s preoccupation with nuance becomes its biggest flaw, as there are few moments where the characters display genuine emotion. Ironically, this is where Theroux could have shined on screen. There are scenes where you can imagine him sitting back, scratching his chin and asking the kind of brutally direct questions that send shivers through the room. It’s almost a shame he chose to stay in the production suite.
Stubblefield’s trial is also not given enough attention, leaving the viewer slightly confused when she is convicted. Her subsequent appeal and release are also barely addressed. It is odd that no lawyers, either for the defense or the prosecution, are featured in the documentary, as a key aspect of the story is the law’s interpretation of consent in the context of disability.
The issue of race is also not dealt with in enough detail. At the end of the film, John says that his brother is “not a black boy from the ghetto who needs someone to save him.” In another scene, Daisy gets angry when Stubblefield claims that Johnson no longer listens to gospel music and prefers classical music.
The family eventually comes to see Stubblefield as an archetypal white savior trying to erase Johnson’s blackness, but the documentary drags its feet without really interrogating this issue. Again, an interviewer could have helped tease this out.
Streaming services are currently awash with “first-person narratives” that allow the subject to evade the truth. It seems that the price of access, be it to Beckham or Beyoncé, is to give up the narrative. In this context, “Tell Me You Love Me” is a breath of fresh air that feels genuinely balanced and intellectually curious. Unfortunately, its flaws mean that it’s not quite the truly groundbreaking piece of television that it could have been.
“Tell Them You Love Me” will air on Sky Documentaries and NOW from February 3rd.
