An Insider’s View of 'The Vow,' Season One

“The eye sees only what the mind is prepared to comprehend.” ― Robertson Davies

[Disclaimer: I had not seen season one of The Vow when I chose to participate in the second season, because it hadn’t aired. Had I done so, I would not have agreed to be filmed.]

“All great fiction films tend towards documentary, just as all great documentaries tend towards fiction… One must choose between ethic and aesthetic. That is understood, but it is no less understood that each word implies a part of the other. ” - Jean-Luc Godard

In anticipation of season two of HBO’s The Vow about to air, I decided to go back and finish watching the first season. I originally stopped watching halfway through due to a mix of frustration, boredom, and more pressing priorities. But since I’m about to be featured and, to the best of my knowledge, completely misrepresented in the upcoming season, I figured I’d get caught up.

All the World’s a Stage

As you might imagine from someone who knew the main characters very well and was in the middle of the whole mess, I have a lot to say about the story. And let me be clear, it is a story. Although the series is presented to make viewers feel as if they are watching reality unfold, this is not accurate. The handheld verité-style and candid moments give the feeling of capturing events in real time, but there is a lot that you don’t see, and much of what you do see is either performed, curated, or captured to move the story in a certain direction. Not to mention that the subjects in season one were almost all aspiring actors and filmmakers. In the ten years I’ve known her, I’ve genuinely never seen Bonnie run for any reason, let alone through a barren desert (pictured below). When I was filmed with The Vow for season two in the fall of 2020, many scenes were recreated, directed, and outside of the scope of what would have naturally happened, which, in hindsight, was a huge red flag that they were going for “story” over truth.

In an interview with Awards Daily, The Vow’s director, Jehane Noujaim, says, “We used the fly-on-the-wall style of filming that I learned from legendary filmmakers D.A. Pennebaker and Chris Hegedus [Don't Look Back (1967), The War Room (1993)], who were my mentors. Just being with your characters as they are going through something where the stakes are very high. As a filmmaker, I try to bear witness without judgment to all sides of the story.” 

Putting factual inaccuracies aside, the series is rife with slick editing tricks, creative liberties, manipulation through music, and missing context — all to persuade the viewer that what they are watching is real and true — reality as a product. Since the beginning of documentary films, questions of ethics have been of concern to filmmakers and critics alike. However, it seems that productions prioritize entertainment value and capitalizing off current trends (in this case, true crime and “cult” shows) over ethics. 

"Some types of proof are inherently more credible than others, and the rules of evidence used in court can help us distinguish them... Because the filmmaker represents prosecution, defense and judge, [it is] important, especially when complex and contradictory situations, that you represent all relevant information and viewpoints, not just those that support your own conclusions. That would be a kangaroo court, one rigged as in totalitarian states to arrive at a foregone conclusion.  A factual film made in this way would be propaganda, because it unduly simplifies the issues" Michael Rabiger, Directing the Documentary (Focal Press, 2004)

A scene-by-scene debunking of the show would require more space than I have here, so I will present some general background, observations, and criticisms that I hope will shed light on this undeniably complex situation and the misleading ways it’s being presented. I always try to watch documentaries with a critical eye, because I know how easy it is to distort reality with editing, music, lighting, and more, but I have still found myself sucked in by stories that have turned out to be fabricated. Filmmaking is the art of creating reality from nothing; evoking in the viewer a sense of verisimilitude — the quality of appearing to be true, or real. We see it every day in fictional television and Hollywood films. Those experiences of journeying with a character can be deeply humanizing, but they can also do the opposite. I am shocked by how much The Vow took what a few people said at face value, at the expense of those who were not present to defend themselves or share another perspective: 

They let a filmmaker and an aspiring actress write the entire script. 

It’s one thing to create a reality show using personal drama for entertainment, but when it is done without the consent of those being talked about, it is irresponsible and potentially dangerous. (I have personally received death threats as a result of my association with NXIVM.) Similar to Tiger King, The Vow blends expository and observational styles, blurring the line between storytelling and watching real events take place. I believe documentary filmmakers have a responsibility to do their due diligence when telling someone else’s story. To tell another person's story implies a stewardship of that person's legacy. In The Vow, the driving narrative is almost all subjective opinion and the archival clips are mostly taken out of context. Not only are the ethics of this highly questionable, but it will also damage many innocent people’s lives irreparably. I will share more about my personal experience working with the filmmakers for season two, and the ways they earned and then abused my trust, in future articles. 

I will present information as objectively as I possibly can despite how involved I was with the people and the organization. More than correcting the narrative, I’m interested in showing the flawed process in this one-sided, subjective, and performative narrative that has become the authority on all things NXIVM. 

Chaotic & Misleading Timeline

One of the many realities that is distorted in this series is the concept of time. The footage and audio recordings span 15 years or more. The footage from Keith’s previous company, Consumers’ Buyline, might be around 30 years old, but we’ll ignore that for now. The drawn-out scenes featuring the main characters lounging and scheming in their lavish homes juxtaposed with short clips of archival footage, carefully placed to support the established narrative, is suspicious if not intentionally deceptive. Also, the timeline jumps all over the place without any indication to the viewer. If you don’t believe me, just look for my many different hairstyles. 

Sarah and Mark are the “heroes” in the story. We, the viewers, are encouraged to empathize with their struggles, their awakenings, and their mission to blow the whistle on what they suddenly realize is an “evil cult.” Yet, the documentary fails to accurately portray how involved they were in said “evil cult” and that they were among the highest leadership in the company. Sarah and Mark owned two NXIVM centers, were the top salespeople in the company and were responsible for recruiting and profiting from thousands of people who took NXIVM classes. Mark was on the Executive Board. Sarah owned, operated, and made a living from the Vancouver Center for over six years. These points are important because they hint at why Sarah, for instance, needed to create an outrageous story to justify walking away from her commitments with zero consequences. Instead of asking her the hard questions (specific damages she allegedly experienced that justified putting her friends in prison, or how she was going to make amends with the people she brought into the organization), the filmmakers portray her as the “damsel in distress,” Mark as the “white knight,” and Keith as the quintessential folk devil who, according to Mark and Sarah, is so busy gaslighting and having sex with people, it’s hard to imagine how he finds the time. 

One example that shows the importance of the timeline is that Sarah was still very involved in promoting and recruiting people into Executive Success Programs (ESP) and DOS even after she got her brand — an event she claims in The Vow was a turning point for her. But there is ample footage documenting her enthusiasm and dedication to the company during the months after, showing that the brand was not the sticking point. It wasn’t until her husband found out, her business partner left the organization, and she saw that people were going to be slandered in the media that it suddenly became a problem.

The use of emotional music, sci-fi-like filters, and intriguing aesthetics create an emotional gestalt — a feeling you’re supposed to get from watching — but it fails to offer an accurate history of events. Imagine how easy it is reconstruct a fictional story using carefully selected clips from 15 years of footage. 

Cast of Characters & Their Motivations

Although it’s not a secret in the series, it is worth mentioning again that the main subjects who drive the entire story are either aspiring actors or filmmakers. Sarah talks about her fledgling acting career. Mark discusses his documentary film projects. Nippy wants to be an actor. Catherine seems to be looking to revive her Hollywood status. Even the anonymous former DOS member featured in episode four is a filmmaker. I can’t help but wonder, if I were in their shoes and if I sincerely believed I had been a part of something bad, or that my daughter was in danger, if my first instinct would be to invite a film crew into my home.

I’m not saying being an actor is inherently an attack on your credibility, otherwise I’d be a hypocrite, but considering that so many of the scenes were so clearly staged or set up, how hard they’re all working in front of the cameras, and being able to retroactively see how they’ve used the series to create career opportunities for themselves, it does hearken to a valid questioning of their motivations. Sarah even admits in one of the early episodes that she is afraid because closing her center would leave her with all sorts of responsibilities and debts she didn’t want. Kristin Keeffe advises her over the phone that the way to avoid any negative repercussions is to 1) make herself a victim, and 2) go to the media.

I have made no financial profit from telling what I believe to be true, or from the attention I’ve received from the narrative. In fact, it has prevented me from many career opportunities and I am constantly attacked on social media, despite having no specific allegations against me. Those who classify themselves as the victims in this tale, however, have published books, produced podcasts, gone on speaking tours, been awarded restitution, and are seeking further financial gain through a civil action lawsuit against the Bronfman sisters (and me, but that’s another story). The same Bronfman sisters that, in episode five of The Vow, Kristin Keefe makes a point to mention have “deep pockets” after receiving a 250 million dollar inheritance. Although she is no longer in the civil suit, Kristin is responsible for introducing Sarah and others to the civil attorney leading the lawsuit, Neil Glazer. 

[If you would like to read my ‘motions to dismiss’ in the lawsuit for more context, you can read them here and here.]

Blurred Line Between Reality & Reenactments

There are several scenes and voice-over segments where the viewer is not told that it is a reenactment. The first is a somewhat harmless one, where it sounds like a recording from a court proceeding. A judge is asking Keith a question and Keith responds, “Yes, your honor.” That is neither Keith nor the judge. It is a voiceover actor reading a transcript. No big deal, right? 

Except for the fact that audio recordings are used throughout the series to portray actual events and show people, especially Keith, in a sinister and ominous light. It is never distinguished when the audio is an actual recording, a reenactment, or an actor reading something that allegedly happened. 

And it’s not just audio, it’s video too. The storyline in episode four which follows a woman who was involved in DOS is entirely acted out by actors. I repeat, paid actors. There are scenes of a woman being interviewed with her face somewhat obscured, along with scenes of her at the ocean, curled up in her bed seemingly depressed or in distress, stepping on a scale, etc. All of these scenes are fictionalized reenactments of things that allegedly happened. The character described by “anonymous DOS woman” is also played by an actress, which is also never stated. Yet, since there was only one black woman in DOS, and the actress is played by a black woman, it’s not hard to figure out who it’s supposed to be. The “anonymous DOS woman” is a filmmaker who is currently publicly part of a civil action lawsuit. Call me old-fashioned, but if you are going to use a massive platform to defame others, I believe it’s only right to use your name and show your face. Hiding behind anonymity makes it impossible for anyone to criticize or defend against the claims. In my opinion, it was irresponsible of The Vow to allow that, and especially to do so without making it clear to the audience.

In addition to having actors act out scenes to give an appearance of legitimacy, many of the subjects (who are mostly actors) were acting out scenes as well. I know this because I was asked by the filmmakers to act out scenes when I filmed with them for season two. For the most part, I did so in good faith that it served to tell the story they promised to tell. Unfortunately, I was wrong. But now I know how they work and can only assume they had a script written out before shooting and it was just a matter of going along with what we wanted until they could get the shots they were looking for. I’ll talk more about my personal experience in future articles, but it may be one of the most important points because the filmmakers have repeatedly said that they used “verité-style filmmaking,” which is being a “fly on the wall” and observing events as they unfold naturally. There are several ways in which the filmmakers involved themselves with the story and the subjects that pose important ethical questions. 

One example is that Karim Amer, one half of the director/producer duo behind both seasons of The Vow, was the one who introduced the subjects to Barry Meier at the New York Times. Without this breakthrough in bringing worldwide attention and credibility to their story, it’s unlikely the narrative would have snowballed so out of control, or resulted in people going to prison. But that certainly wouldn’t have made for a very interesting docu-series. 

The Filmmakers’ Involvement in NXIVM and the Narrative

Though you may be able to find this information in the depths of the internet, it is not widely promoted that Jehane Noujaim, the other half of The Vow’s director/producer team, had taken several courses within NXIVM and was part of the Los Angeles NXIVM community. She was also good friends with Mark Vicente for many years. I coached her first intensive in Albany and recall her thoroughly enjoying the curriculum.

Jehane took a five-day intensive in March 2017, around the time Mark was making his exit, but it’s unknown whether she did so because she sincerely wanted to work on herself using the NXIVM tools, or whether she was doing “research” and gathering content for her upcoming project. Either way, everyone who participates in NXIVM programs must sign a confidentiality agreement before they begin. This is not only to protect the proprietary material but also to protect the privacy of the individuals who have also come to work on themselves in a trusted environment. That trust, privacy, and the terms of confidentiality agreement were violated when footage from trainings was aired on HBO without the permission of the participants. A lot of the footage you see from actual classes was from video that was only intended for trainers to rewatch so they could improve their teaching skills. It was certainly never meant for anyone outside the organization to view, nor to profit from using a narrative defaming the organization and those who chose to participate.

I showed up numerous times throughout season one in videos and personal photos, even though I was never asked and had never given permission. When a producer from The Vow first reached out to me in November 2018, she used the fact that Jehane had taken ESP classes as a way to build a connection and credibility. I now see that this was a disingenuous strategy to gain my trust, as the series did not portray the education and philosophy behind it accurately at all. Anyone who had ever taken a class would see that. The filmmakers took clips from some of the most provocative things Keith has ever said, most of which were within a very specific context and not from ESP classes, and used them to make Keith look misogynistic, power-hungry, and narcissistic, among other things. Mark and the “anonymous DOS woman” from episode four, who had also signed the confidentiality agreement, were responsible for nearly all the footage presented in the show, for which we can be certain they were generously compensated. 

If you want to watch a tv show about a failed documentary filmmaker’s paranoid delusions, a sixty-something-year-old actress enjoying the limelight as she tries to gain back control of her adult daughter, and an aspiring actress and persuasive salesperson trying to avoid the repercussion of her own decisions, then HBO’s The Vow is for you. If you’re looking for insight into what NXIVM was, why over 17,000 people took classes over the last 15 years, and the complex and provocative stories of all the different people involved, you will not find it in The Vow, season one or two. 

I had hoped, perhaps naively, that my involvement in the second season would give viewers some pause before joining the chorus of hate against the organization and its leaders. I had hoped that my story and perspective would at least leave people questioning and bring some reason and compassion to some of the more controversial claims, especially since we presented tangible evidence of government corruption that landed on the cutting room floor. Alas, I should have known better. But if you are interested in those things, as well as my perspectives on the second season of The Vow as it unfolds, please subscribe and join my journey. I may not have the platform HBO has, but I can guarantee that what you see is what you get.