The Witness

First time director James Solomon follows Catherine "Kitty" Genovese's brother Bill over the course of ten years as he revisits the circumstances and aftermath surrounding her 1964 murder in the uneasy, yet compelling, documentary "The Witness."

On a cold, early morning in March, 28-year-old bar manager Kitty was stabbed to death in front of her Kew Gardens, Queens, New York, apartment building.

The narrative offered by the New York Times was bystander apathy: That 38 people witnessed the attack, but did nothing. Attacker Winston Moseley left halfway through the attempted rape, but returned to murder Kitty when nobody showed up to prevent him. She died at the bottom of her stairs.

The 911 emergency phone service was created in the wake of the crime. Television shows of the time, including "Perry Mason" and "All in the Family," wrote scripts based on "apathy as a way of American life." Even modern dramas like "Law and Order" referenced folks watching crimes but doing nothing, and, more recently, Kitty Genovese has been compared to Syria and Trayvon Martin.

Bill's investigations show that most of the evidence is skimpy, and police reports illegible and/or redacted. Even the show "20/20" was unable to interview witnesses in a 1979 follow-up piece. Many with links to the case are now dead; those living don't want to talk about the incident, including most of Bill's siblings.

Bill observes that his family focused so much on Kitty's death, they didn't know much about her life. Her murder "destroyed their family." Their mom had a stroke a year later. Their dad died of a stroke at age 59.

School friends said that everyone loved her, she was "a cut up, a mimic, head of the pack" with no plans for college. Her bar buds said she was "queen of the bar; it was her home," and that everybody knew she was gay, one of the boys. Her most famous photo, the one shown after her murder, was her mug shot from when she was arrested for taking gambling bets.

Bill realizes that his sister had been married, but was likely a lesbian, living with her partner Mary Anne at the time of her death. Her ex, Rocco, refused an interview: "My relations with Kitty will remain a mystery forever," he emailed Bill.

Mary Anne, who was called to identify Kitty's body at the time, wouldn't go on camera, but allowed Bill to tape record their conversation. They both agreed they still hadn't healed and didn't know how. She thinks Bill's dad probably stole the dog, Andrew, the couple got together. The dad gave it to Kitty's mom to comfort her; it did the opposite, so Andrew disappeared forever.

Mary Anne slept with Kitty's shirt for a long time, she said.

Veteran journalist Mike Wallace told Bill that the clout of the New York Times kept other outlets from deeper fact checking, that more truth "would have ruined the story," that the "nobody cared" story "undoubtedly sold newspapers."

Bill also attempted to contact Moseley, who received life imprisonment and has always had his parole denied, but the two-time murderer, called bright, manipulative, and ice-cold, also refused because he had been badgered by the media, and was "tired of being exploited."

He escaped prison in 1968 and terrorized residents in Buffalo, NY. He received a sociology degree in prison in 1977, and wrote a Times editorial that he had been reformed.

However, Bill secured an interview with his son Steven, seven at the time of the murder and now a reverend, to be the "good fix for the bad in the world."

Steven thought his father might have been paroled if not for his notoriety, and also explained that he and his brother's lives were ruined as well.

Bill joined the Marines to fight in Vietnam in reaction to his sister's murder, to do something for others. He was hit by an explosive, and thought about his sister as he lay in a rice paddy, completely alone. But his fellow Marines eventually carried him to safety. He lost his legs, and has been in a wheelchair ever since.

A month after meeting his son, Bill received a "delusional" letter from Winston, claiming he was only the getaway driver. He also directed an actress to walk Kitty's final path, and to scream the way she did during the attack.

Bill ends the documentary surrounded by family at a Memorial Day picnic, including a grandniece named after his sister. He says, "Kitty taught me how to never stop asking questions, but she'd want me to move on."

But he also says "it's hard to let go when you can never know the whole truth."