TELEVISION ‘Proof’ follows brother’s search for long-lost sister
CHARLOTTE, N.C. — A new four-part true-crime documentary on HBO (and streaming on MAX) goes beyond the typical genre offering.
“Burden of Proof,” directed by Durham, N.C., filmmaker Cynthia Hill, tells the story of Stephen Pandos and his search for answers about what happened to his sister, Jennifer, who was just 15 years old when she disappeared from her home in Williamsburg, Va., in 1987.
But beyond the (presumed) murder plot, the story is equal parts family drama, as Stephen, who lives in Charlotte, is convinced that his father, Ronald Pandos, killed his sister, and that his mother, Margie, helped him cover it up — or at the very least, knows more than she’s telling.
Everything about “Burden of Proof” is heartbreaking, but it’s also exhilarating in parts, as the story twists and turns until the very end, unfolding in real time all while Hill is filming. The story you think you have at the beginning is not the story you are left with at the end of Part 4 — and it’s fascinating to watch.
Hill, who has won major awards for her domestic violence documentary “Private Violence” and for the PBS series “A Chef’s Life,” spent seven years chronicling Stephen’s quest, creating an intimacy not just with him but with his mother, who also lives in Charlotte. Jennifer’s father also agrees to interviews, as do Jennifer’s friends from high school and law enforcement authorities, both past and present, all of which help get us closer and closer to answers.
Hill and Stephen Pandos agreed to answer some questions from us about the filmmaking process and about where things stand now.
When considering new projects, you must have so many choices. How did you learn about this case and what made you decide to take it on?
Hill: Stephen reached out to me. He wanted to bring attention to his sister’s case. He believed his mother had been traumatized and that prevented her from telling the truth about what his father did to Jennifer. He knew about my prior film, “Private Violence,” about domestic violence survivors. He knew I was from Eastern North Carolina. His mother is from Lumberton. He thought I would be able to connect with her.
What initially drew my producer, Christine Delp, and I to the story was how not knowing what happened to his sister had affected Stephen.
You must have envisioned the narrative in a certain way when you started, before things began to shift. How did you initially see the story?
Hill: To be honest, when I begin a project, I don’t know what will happen with the story. That’s the exciting part of this business. You are following real people with real things happening to them.
As we got deeper into the story, I saw it as a film about how a tragic and unsolved case deeply affected a family for more than three decades. It was never going to be a whodunit type of story. Of course people will be intrigued by the mystery. But to me, the most interesting part is how the search for answers can become a lifelong burden.
When we began filming, the members of Stephen’s family were estranged from one another. We had to develop relationships with Stephen, Margie and Ron, separately.
I loved the ending of the documentary, but the story really could have continued on and on. With a story like this that is sort of ongoing, how do you know when to stop filming and reporting, and put out a finished product?
Hill: As a filmmaker documenting a story in real time, you have to find a stopping point. No, it is not the end of the story but it is a conclusion for the story that we are telling.
There’s a significant transformation of Stephen. He goes from being so certain to being less certain, and more at peace with the uncertainty. And the audience goes on that same journey.
And related to the idea of going on and on, would you consider filming more if something else happens in the case?
Hill: Definitely. We’re invested in this story and would love to continue. But we are also OK if we end here.
Stephen, you’ve been trying to get justice for Jennifer for a long time. Do you feel like the involvement of a documentary film crew prompted the Williamsburg authorities to push harder on the case?
Pandos: made them push harder. I think it made it harder for them to ignore me. I think they’d have had the same resolve to solve the case without the film.
It seems like there was a measure of resolution at the end of the series — if not a definitive answer, a good idea of what may have happened. Do you feel any peace with that part of it? Or does it still feel unresolved to you?
Pandos: There’s peace in knowing I’ve done all I can do. Whether it’s resolved or not, I have to take solace in that. I don’t get to deliver justice. I don’t get to define it. I just have to be at peace knowing I have done all I could do.
The end of the documentary suggests that you and your mother were in the process of healing your relationship. Has that happened? What about with your father?
Pandos: Yes. I’m working on my relationship with my mother. With my father, it’s more complicated.