Netflix’s Documentary ‘Killer Sally’ Has A Misleading Title And A Frustrating Narrative

Logline: Killer Sally is the story of bodybuilding’s most notorious crime. On Valentine’s Day 1995, national bodybuilding champion, Ray McNeil, was choking his bodybuilder wife, Sally, when she grabbed a gun and fatally shot him twice. With a documented history of domestic abuse, Sally claimed it was self-defense, a split-second decision to save her life. The prosecution argued it was premeditated murder, the revenge of a jealous and aggressive wife. They called her a “thug,” a “bully,” a “monster”. The media referred to her as the “brawny bride” and the “pumped-up princess”. Sally says she spent her life doing whatever it took to survive, caught in a cycle of violence that began in childhood and ended with Ray’s death. This complex true crime story examines domestic violence, gender roles, and the world of bodybuilding. It’s directed by award winning filmmaker, Nanette Burstein (On The Ropes, Hillary) and is produced by Traci Carlson, Robert Yapkowitz and Richard Peete of Neighborhood Watch (Karen Dalton: In My Own Time, Blue Ruin).”

Ever since the two Fyre Festival documentaries came out a few years ago, I feel “side characters” in documentaries strive to make themselves stand out so they may be talked about on the internet. I know this is a bold statement to start this review with, but I cannot stress enough how frustrated I felt during the testimonies of some of the people interviewed for Netflix’s three-part docuseries, “Killer Sally”.

A Bit of Ranting

Just from the title alone, I feel we were off to the wrong start. The documentary pretty much goes through the murder of bodybuilder Ray McNeil by his wife Sally. And in a typical fashion, because Sally (who was also a bodybuilder) does not fit the typical mold of a domestic abuse victim, her suffering and justification for killing her husband is called into question at every turn. Even during moments when it’s very clear how abusive Ray was towards Sally, by her accounts, neighbors, and her children; the documentary has to ask certain questions to call in her character. To justify calling the documentary “Killer Sally” and not something more along the lines of what was really going on.

More Ranting

Even listening to the snobby arrogance of the prosecutor and the willfully blind to blatant abuse best friend of Ray made me angry. Sally was a bodybuilder, she didn’t like Ray cheating on her, and she asked her husband to be present for her and her kids. Oh wow, she’s the crazy one, right? Regardless of everything, Ray being on multiple steroids, choking Sally, and beating his stepkids with belts, while taking advantage of his wife was not right. And for the documentary team to ask her son, who had solemnly confessed to hating his stepfather and was glad he was dead to no longer hurt them (in a manner of someone who has clearly carried trauma around for his whole life) to then talk about his mom being angry over Ray’s infidelities felt very pointed and I didn’t appreciate it.

Perhaps I’m feeling so passionate about this case because, I dislike when this victim blaming is done for such a large audience. Because Sally could lift heavy weights and because she wasn’t dainty, that meant she could fend off her massive husband who was literally attempting to kill her. And because now documentaries are a way for people to get fifteen seconds of fame, people like the prosecutor feel it’s okay to be as cocky as can be just to get people talking about them. Congratulations, Daniel Goldstein (who is now a judge in San Diego), we’re talking about you.

And DJ Jeffers, at what point does defending your friend go too far? You acknowledge that he had a short fuse and you had to be careful how you approached him. You admitted he blinded a man with his thumbs. Because Sally didn’t fall in line and be okay with Ray treating her like garbage, while singlehandedly paying for his hobby, so that makes her the bad guy?

Sally McNeil is a victim and a survivor. And I suppose this review has become less about the documentary, but more about the frustration I have towards the lack of responsibility documentaries exhibit when talking about domestic violence. I would think, in today’s day and age, we understand a victim of domestic abuse can look like anyone. And for this documentary to try to frame Sally in any other light is poor journalism. Still, I’d suggest watching it. It’s out on Netflix now and is three episodes long.