The clergy abuse documentary opens with a powerful quote from the Bible (Matthew 18:6): “Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.”

First-time director Lindsay Q. Pitre is weaponising the gospel against the Catholic Church and its priests, those that were either guilty of sexual abuse of minors or complicit in the cover-up.

The story focuses on the Archdiocese of New Orleans, and the decades-long period of abuse and cover-up. The film’s opening is meaningful because it exposes the chasm between the Church and God Himself, or the Holy Trinity. It confronts the Vatican in Rome, which has yet to take satisfactory accountability for the child abuse scandal, and thrusts it into an existential crisis. The words of Matthew suggest that God condemns his own Church with an angry and scornful eye.

In the first few minutes, Soren Gisleson, a lawyer who represents victims of abuse, plants a seed in our minds. “In the Archdiocese of New Orleans, that randomly you could have this many pedophiles in one organisation in a city this small for this many generations, it just cannot be random. So, if it’s not random, what is it?”

This is a question Pitre will seek to answer in due course, but first, she opens the floor to a series of disturbing accounts from adult survivors, who explain in detail their horrifying experiences.

These include Mike, a man speaking for his brother who tragically committed suicide, despite a promising career in medicine. Whereas we typically the victims speak directly, Mike’s role as an advocate adds nuance to the victim accounts, by emphasising the impact on the families.

God as my Witness is a difficult watch and will provoke different reactions. It could be triggering for some, while for others, it will be revealing. And there will be those who are forced to reckon with their own faith, and may feel compelled to separate their belief from the institution. This is something that comes up in the film. One of the survivors, Tim, talks about attending mass and the struggle with listening to the priest giving his homily/sermon, which talks about moral conduct. Meanwhile, Kathleen says she will never step foot inside a church again.

Pitre constructs a compelling documentary that takes us down a dark rabbit hole. It’s one in which the Catholic Church, and specifically the Archdiocese of New Orleans under the authority of Archbishop Gregory Aymond, continue to shock us. And by the end of the film, we’re aware that dark secrets remain hidden.

Both the Archdiocese and Gregory Aymond were contacted during the film’s production — both declined to comment. It was to be expected after Aymond used the trick of filing for bankruptcy to halt any cases pending against the Archdiocese. Pitre nevertheless ploughs on with creating a film that honours the voices of the survivors and their families. The intent is to penetrate the cover-up by giving a platform to those individuals, who are joined by journalists, lawyers and others, including an inactive priest, canon lawyer, addiction counsellor and author, Thomas P. Doyle. Together they provide a damning and incriminating account of the Archdiocese and its central conspirator, Archbishop Aymond, who becomes the villain of the film.

God as my Witness highlights the role cinema plays in enabling people to be seen and heard, by challenging institutions and their abuses of power. In the context of the Catholic clergy, however, this abuse of power is all the more stomach-churning given the way they manipulated their relationship to God and the virtues this association afforded them.

One idea that surfaces is the relationship of the crimes and the perpetrators opposite the likes of Aynond, who covered it up. Here, an interesting tension emerges of which is the more abominable of two reprehensible actions. Regardless, God as my Witness us a disturbing example of how it’s difficult to hold those in power to account, especially when the New Orleans judiciary take part in the “Red Mass”, where they bend the knee to Aymond.

The use of recreations to visualise the verbal accounts, some of which are shot in black and white, takes us inside difficult and traumatising memories. Pitre uses the cinematic language to full effect to create a space for the audience to enter these accounts, and empathise with those speaking. It’s a confronting but necessary approach to take, because this is a film that should not be timid. And listening to the victims speak, they wouldn’t want Pitre to craft such a film.

God as my Witness is a meaningful documentary in an ongoing conversation and search to hold the Catholic Church accountable by bringing into the light its crimes. After all, the Church espouses the significance of confession and contrition – its own is long overdue.

God as my Witness premieres at Raindance 2025, which takes place from June 18th to 27th.