The most shocking thing about this, at least from what I've seen so far, is the ridiculously pejorative title! I know it was only the 1980s, but for fuck's sake, ease up on the lurid shots and the tense music cues. You'd think these gawking asshole filmmakers had never seen a teenage girl with scratched wrists before.
It's kind of fucked up that they even let the cameras in there, especially with people like Bryan. He doesn't seem to have any awareness at all about what's going on; does anyone know if there were consent/ confidentiality issues raised around the filming of this documentary? Were consent and confidentiality even things that mental health providers cared about in the 1980s?