‘Roll Red Roll’ on Netflix Presents A Complex Case Wherein Sexual Assault And Social Media Get Entangled In A “Football Town”

Back in 2012, one of the most harrowing national discussions taking place involved a case that checked every box in how the wider public addresses accusations of sexual crimes in America. The conversation surrounding the Steubenville rape case featured victim-shaming, sexism, faux legal analysis, socioeconomic fissures, vigilantism, and “the football town.” The trial of two members of the Steubenville (OH) High School football team was presented as said football town wanting to protect the accused over the accuser, but it gained global attention at a time when the world truly began to realize the blessings and curses of social media.

The horrific ordeal and the conversations it inspired are re-told with a new lens in the 2018 documentary Roll Red Roll (currently streaming on Netflix).

For those who don’t recall the saga, in August 2012, a high school student was leaving one party with several football players from Steubenville to attend a second party. The young girl was already believed to have been heavily intoxicated when she was headed to the home of one of the witnesses. On the drive en route to this home, she was sexually assaulted – at one point, she’s unconscious as it happens – by two of the student-athletes, Ma’lik Richmond and Trent Mays. Both Richmond and Mays, who were 16 at the time, also took photos of their actions and disseminated them among their friends.

While billed as a true-crime documentary, that label in and of itself feels too simplistic in this case. For starters, despite interviews from the original investigator and the re-traced timeline of the incident, this isn’t a film about police procedures or legal wrangling. 

This case introduced the term “rape culture” to the national lexicon, mainly because it took place in a town that throws its entire identity around the success of its school’s football team. But while Roll writes another chapter about the compromise of morality for the sake of fielding a winning program, it loudly questions the media culture that enveloped nearly every single detail. 

Several documentaries and television shows highlight the ills of social media from the 10,000-foot point of view, telling us how the platforms (and the data they collect) are weaponized for profit and power. Roll Red Roll and the case itself had a similar effect, but from ground level. The collection of tweets, status updates, texts and photos were the basis of the charges and prosecution in state court. Effectively, the assailants and witnesses snitched on themselves with every post.

While Steubenville is not the first case that was built from the trail left behind on social media, in many ways, it’s the first that revealed to the wider public how freely its youngest users express all parts of themselves with a complete lack of awareness, let alone regard for the well-being of the victim.

Perhaps overlooked by the film’s early reviews was how well director Nancy Schwartzman presented the still-prominent influence of traditional media. She doesn’t just reemphasize the transformative role that social media had on the case – or rather, the reckless use of those platforms by the suspects and witnesses – but reminds everyone that “old media” retained its role as the main local public forum for the older crowds. 

Her team plays sports talk radio segments that both introduced the case and dared to try it out in the court of public opinion. (And anyone who dares to listen to sports talk radio for more than ten minutes knows how poorly many hosts and callers address sensitive subjects such as sexual assault.) They followed up with an out-of-state investigative reporter who came upon “this football town” to uncover a truth that media in and around Steubenville wouldn’t seek out itself. And while it has been some time since the internet was called “new media,” Roll brings the viewer back to the days when those forms were still regarded as a step below “real journalism” thanks to Alexandria Goddard, who brought many of the condemning social media posts to light on her personal blog. Let’s not forget the national coverage and how specific outlets – especially on television – tended to lean heavy on the “football town” narrative.

Clearly, Roll is as much of an indictment of the old guard as it is the new-fangled mediums of today.

There are aspects of Roll Red Roll that will trigger plenty of emotions as viewers will witness multiple failures of a system that should have protected the victim much more than it did. There was zero accountability from both the high school and the football team. The media in and around town presented opinions before (and at times, in place of) facts. Local police were hamstrung because it was dealing with teenagers who were processing the ordeal in confounding ways. 

It turns out that Roll Red Roll is a lot more than an examination of social media and rape culture. It’s a reminder of the complex beliefs people hold when it comes to sexual assault cases – beliefs that become even more dense and intractable when they focus more on the suspects and beloved institutions rather than the victim.

Jason Clinkscales is the editor-in-chief for The Sports Fan Journal and senior editor at Yardbarker whose work has been featured at Awful Announcing, The Week and Dime Magazine. A New York City native, he is also a former media research analyst in both television networks and advertising agencies.

Where to stream Roll Red Roll