Trust Me: The False Prophet

Disclaimer! This is a review of Trust Me, The False Prophet. The point of this review is to discuss it as a piece of true crime horror. Not to make judgments on anyone’s choice of religion. That being said, it would be irresponsible of me not to disclose that I was raised as a member of the LDS church, of which the FLDS church is an offshoot. I am no longer a member. This did color my opinion of the show, and it’s something that I’ll be discussing in a limited capacity during this review. That being said, we’re discussing the quality of the show, not how anyone chooses to worship.

Also! If you know anything about Sam Bateman or this case, then you already know that this documentary will discuss disturbing accounts of child abuse. Things that might be difficult for some viewers or readers. If you’re in need of a lighter read, I highly suggest my review of The Fox and The Devil.

Released in April of this year, Trust Me: The False Prophet was a dark and disturbing look at the horrors that people can inflict on each other while the rest of the world simply looks the other way.

The show follows Christine Marie, a cult survivor and expert, as she moves into an FLDS community in order to create a documentary. (Fundamentalist Latter Day Saints.) What she finds is a community on pause. The former prophet of the FLDS church, Warren Jeffs, had decreed that no one was permitted to get married or have babies. And so, the community was simply not getting married or having babies.

Then, along comes Sam Bateman. He declares that he’s the new prophet and that Warren Jeffs is communicating with him spiritually.

What follows is Christine’s hellish battle to gather evidence against Bateman as his crimes and victims grow in number. It’s harrowing.

I found this show to be skin-crawling. There is no blood and gore. There is no physical violence. There’s just the psychological torment that Bateman’s victims went through. That some are still going through today, as several of his remaining wives still consider him to be a prophet.

No, the horror in Trust Me comes from the raw moments of abject servitude that Bateman’s wives exhibit. The way they all treat him with such reverence, such obedience.

Part of this might not come through for all viewers. This is where my experience growing up in the Church of Latter-day Saints comes into play. LDS women do not swear. They do not discuss sex openly. They would never say the world fuck. So every time one of these FLDS women swore or acted in a lewd manner towards Sam or one of his male followers, it made me wince. Not because I personally have issues with those things. But because I know it goes against everything those women were raised to do. And that sort of reprogramming is scary to me.

If you didn’t grow up in a conservative church, don’t worry! Trust Me is just about guaranteed to creep you out, too. There is one scene, especially that will stick with me forever. Later in the show, some of the girls are removed from the home and put in foster care. As they’re being removed, they’re clutching each other and singing a hymn. As they do, they glare at the officers taking them. The look of pure hatred on these girls’ faces. The fear and anger is unsettling.

Another thing I appreciated about Trust Me was that Christine is, through it all, non-judgmental. Well, she’s non-judgmental about people’s religious decisions. The crimes against women and children, she’s plenty judgmental about. As she should be. But the people just living their lives and not brutally abusing others? No, they’re not judged. Early in the first episode, Christine says, “When you’re judging, you can’t help people.” And I thought that was a beautiful message. Amid all the horrors of this show, that was nice.

Finally, I’m sure you know that being a fan of true crime can sometimes be ethically dicey. Yes, we all love a horror story. But when real people’s lives are involved, we have to think about how we’re consuming content.

Now, everyone’s free to have their own ethical lines here. But I personally prefer to watch true crime that centers the survivors, victims, and heroes. The good guys and girls.

Jeff Dahmer isn’t the hero of the story. Glenda Cleveland is.

Manson isn’t the hero of the story. The task force that arrested him is.

Sam Bateman isn’t the hero of this story. Christine, Tolga, Detective Martin, and Julia are. And Trust Me makes that very clear.

This is not the story of a sick, deranged man. It’s the story of a group of women who risked their families, freedom, and lives in order to bring him to justice.

In closing, Trust Me was a dark, horrifying tale. But it’s also one full of hope. If you’ve got the stomach for it, I can’t recommend this chilling documentary enough.