Her Brilliant HBO Documentary Explored the Effects of an Unsolved Murder. Weeks Later, the Case Was Solved.

Margaret Brown’s The Yogurt Shop Murders was a heartbreaking and deeply thoughtful four-part series about the lingering wounds of a terrible crime that had gone unsolved for 34 years. And then, just a few weeks after its final episode aired, the case was solved. The sexual assault and murder of four teenage girls had haunted Austin, Texas, for decades, to say nothing of the victims’ families and the four men wrongfully accused of the killings. (Two, Robert Springsteen and Michael Scott, were convicted on the basis of coerced confessions, but their convictions were overturned, and the charges against them were dropped in 2009.) And due to police misconduct and the degraded quality of the physical evidence, it seemed unlikely that the true killer would ever be found. But then Dan Jackson, a detective with the Austin Police Department’s cold case unit, started plugging what evidence they had—a single .380 shell casing and an incomplete DNA profile—into national databases to see if new data and advancing technology might yield new results. And suddenly, there was an answer. The four girls—Amy Ayers, Eliza Thomas, Jennifer Harbison, and Sarah Harbison—were murdered by Robert Eugene Brashers, a serial killer whose crimes were uncovered years after his death by suicide in 1999.

The fifth episode of The Yogurt Shop Murders, which premieres May 22 on HBO, catches viewers up on recent developments in the case, including the fact that, in February, a Texas judge took the extraordinary step of ruling that Springsteen and Scott were entirely innocent of the crime, as were Maurice Pierce and Forrest Welborn, who were accused but never tried. But even though Brown now has an answer to the question of, as billboards around Austin once asked, “Who Killed These Girls?,” there’s still more to the story, namely how those who have suffered with uncertainty for so long deal with its abrupt and unexpected removal. It may be, as the episode’s title has it, “The End of Wondering,” but it’s not the end of the damage those girls’ deaths caused, including to the then-boys who were unfairly accused. (Pierce was fatally shot by a police officer during a 2010 traffic stop.) With a keen and patient eye, Brown surveys the harm and the beginnings of healing, the pain left behind and the deeply moving attempts to make it right. Brown and I spoke last week, the day after the city of Austin agreed to pay $35 million in restitution to the men unjustly accused of the murders, and pledged to ban unsupervised interrogations of underage suspects. This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Sam Adams: What was your reaction when you found out that this 34-year-old mystery you’d just finished making a series about had suddenly been solved?

Margaret Brown: Right before I left Austin, I met up with the cold case detective, Dan Jackson, and I could just tell there was something going on. We were having coffee, and I was like, “I can leave, right? Because you’re acting really fidgety. I’m about to start another film, and we’re shooting, so you need to tell me. I can change it.” And he was like, “No, no, no. If there’s anything, it’ll take months.” So I left, and then I’m in the car, driving with my dog, and I get the call that I have to turn right back around to Austin. We had to put a crew together in two days to shoot the press conference.

One of the things I really like about the original series, or the first four episodes or whatever we’re calling it, is that you approach this as an unsolved murder that is likely to stay unsolved. This isn’t one of those documentaries where you set out to solve the crime.

That would be ridiculous. I don’t even make true-crime documentaries normally. So “I think I can solve it”? Please, that would be absurd.

It’s an incredible development, especially given that it happened only weeks after the series finished airing, but it also fundamentally changes the story that you were telling. Did you have any hesitations about jumping right back in?

No. Alice Henty, the producer, and I flew back to Austin and left my dog with my parents. She called me and she’s like, “Well, I’m in. Whatever happens, we have to start shooting.” And it just kept getting bigger and bigger. HBO was like, “Make a coda,” but even after the first shoot a few days later, it was clear there was more story than a coda. I thought it would be, because I knew how much would change when you go from uncertainty to certainty. Obviously the boys always knew they didn’t do it—I mean, one of them thought he did because he got brainwashed at a certain point—but the other three never thought they did. So I was just curious about, what will happen in their lives? Their lives were ruined too. And I was curious about, would any of them talk to me now? We had very little time to make this episode.
I made it in six months, and it’s full feature-length. So a lot of it is a blur. You might ask me a question and I’ll be like, “I can’t remember, because we made it so fast.”

It’s interesting how the new episode is structured. You kind of go into a straight procedural for a bit, where all of a sudden we’re seeing ballistics tests and DNA profiles on the screen.

I know. I would say to Dan Jackson, the cold case detective, “Can you explain this really simply?” And he’s like, “No, Margaret, you can’t explain that simply.” I would be like, “What about if you say it like this?” And he was like, “You can’t say it like that.” So then I had to turn around and try to explain it to [design studio] Antenna Creative, who I’ve worked with before, and we have this crazy deadline, and we’re trying to do these graphics and make it make sense visually, in a way where people can understand it.

And do all that without turning it into an episode of CSI.

Exactly. So not my interest. When people ask me about the DNA, I know how to explain it, but I also kind of glaze over. That is not my interest as a director, how to explain Y-STR versus STR, not my thing. I’m much more interested in how people’s brains work and why—for example, why every family member is excited to know who killed their daughter and they don’t seem to be as upset to know that it’s a serial killer instead of four boys.

Were you surprised by the family members’ reactions to the news? I can’t say I have an intuitive sense of how a person responds when the 34-year-old mystery of their loved one’s murder is solved, but they’re much calmer than I might have expected.

I was surprised that everyone across the board seemed happier to have an answer, even if it’s a serial killer, because I think in a vacuum that seems worse. I think there’s something about the cops having said [in 1999], “Well, this is who did it,” but there’s nothing connecting these four boys to the crime—so even if they trust the cops, there’s probably something in their brain that still wonders. In, I think it’s the third episode, someone says to Angie and Shawn [Ayers], “How sure are you it’s the boys?” And they say 70 percent. So there’s still 30 percent maybe they didn’t do it. The way Shawn talked about the case being solved, I remember that interview so clearly. It was like his face was lit up from inside, just having an answer. He said he looked at his wife and children differently, and I felt so happy for him that he had that release, and his father as well. The women responded to it differently, but it’s such a small control group, I wouldn’t be like, “Oh, it’s gendered.” But it was really nice to see that they all felt lifted up by the information that it was literally 3.7 million–to–1 that this guy [Brashers] did it.

On one level, it’s hard to imagine being like, “Thank god, now I know that a serial killer murdered my daughter.” But even when the families believed that the four local suspects were responsible, there was no real explanation for why. Whereas now we know it was a man who just did this, repeatedly and over the course of years, and probably more times than we know of.

Oh yeah. I know that Dan and other people across the country are working with all these other police departments to figure out other crimes. So I don’t think this is the end of it at all. It was chilling when we were watching this happen in real time, and Dan would text me, like, “I think we found another one,” right afterwards. It was insane. I’ve never worked on anything true-crime, and all of a sudden it’s a serial killer? I didn’t even know those were around anymore.

You point out that you’ve never worked on a true-crime project before, and the series seems infused by ambivalence, or at least self-questioning, about undertaking a project like this. One of the hardest scenes to watch is when we see old footage of Claire Huie, who worked on an unreleased project about the murders, opening an interview by asking, “Can we start by your telling us how your daughters were murdered?” She seems mortified watching her younger self broach the subject so clumsily, but even in the best circumstances, you are asking people to relive their trauma for your camera.

It’s really hard to talk to people about the most painful thing that’s ever happened to them. And I think I was very naive when I accepted the job about how hard it would be. It was really stupid. I was like, “It happened in Austin. I live in Austin and should be an Austin filmmaker. The archival footage is amazing. It looks like Twin Peaks. Done. I’ll take the job.” And then when I met the families, particularly Bob Ayers, I was just like, Fuck, what did I fucking do? This is going to be so hard, and it’s not just going to be hard for me. It’s going to be hard for my crew, because they have to sit here and listen to this too. I’ve now been approached to do other really dark things, and I’m like, “No, we are not doing something like that next.” It takes years off your life to go that deep. Someone else can do that.

When you’re doing an interview where you are asking someone to describe the worst thing that’s ever happened to them, do you have to stop and remind yourself why you’re doing this? What’s your North Star, in terms of, as long as I’m doing it for this reason, it’s OK?

There’s no real way to prepare. That’s why it’s so hard. You have to be in the moment. And that is a part of why I love my job, because you really have to be responsive. You have to just be so alive. But also you don’t know what’s going to happen, and you don’t know how much you’re going to hurt someone by asking a question, and that is really tender territory.

I love these people and don’t want to hurt them. When they share things like, “We did that interview and I couldn’t get out of bed for a month,” is it worth it? What I tell them is, “Look, I know you couldn’t get out of bed for a month, but hopefully someone else who can’t get out of bed for a month will watch this, and this will help them know that there’s light somewhere. There’s a door somewhere they can’t maybe see yet that they can someday walk through.” Because I believe that. I believe that we learn. That’s how art works. That’s why it matters. It sounds hippie-dippie, but it’s true. That’s why I became a filmmaker and that’s what I always hope my work will do. It doesn’t always work, but that’s the goal.

You have that moment with Barbara Ayres-Wilson, doing what she describes as the last interview she’ll ever give about her daughter’s murder, and it’s clear you’ve earned her trust and are there for a good reason, but even so she pauses to observe, this is a weird thing you do, right?

I love her so much. And yeah, she just names the thing. It is weird.

I question that even as a viewer. Why, other than morbid curiosity, am I watching these people pour out their unimaginable pain on my iPad?

It’s because you can learn something from it. We all go through grief. We all go through trauma. I think that’s why. I think the reason you watch is to think about, How do I get better at learning how to deal with these really difficult things that all humans deal with?

Our reactions aren’t always what fictional accounts might lead us to expect. It’s a real moment in the new episode when you ask the victims’ family members what they feel about the four men who were wrongly accused of the crime—including Robert Springsteen, who spent several years on death row. It seems like there’s not a lot of sympathy there. 

I think that it’s easy to be judgy about that, but what I would say is that—I mean, there’s a reason I included it, because that is fucking fascinating—but also that interview happened like two months after they found out. What Shawn says is really telling. He says, “I haven’t gotten to that yet.” And I think that’s a very honest response. But how are they going to feel in a year? I asked Sonora [victim Eliza Thomas’ sister], who’s a therapist, “What do you tell your patients in a situation like this?” And she said, “Well, the first year is just for people to bring you bundt cakes and casseroles. After a year is when you really start processing, but the first year you just need to be around people.” I feel like they’re in that year. I feel bad that I asked them that question at two months and not at a year and two months, because I think a lot of people are going to watch this and be like, “Wow, I don’t think I would do that. I would feel empathy for the boys.” But “I haven’t gotten to that yet”—I think that’s more the way. Both the mothers are like, “That is horrible, but that’s not what I’m focused on right now.” And I think they’re really honest. They’re really honest with me, and I appreciate that, that they are not trying to pretend. I think some people would.

It’s also not like the victims’ families’ response is the real issue, either. They’re not the ones who put those suspects in jail or coerced their convictions. It’s much more important that a judge ruled earlier this year that they are definitely innocent of the crimes, or that, just last week, the city of Austin agreed to pay them and their families $35 million in restitution.

Well, and this has been highlighted less in the press, but a lot of it is also tied to reform. It’s $35 million, plus they want to make sure this never happens again. It’s the same with the Ayers family. They want to make sure this doesn’t happen to other families. Everyone’s always focused on money, but it’s really about the people this happened to, they want to make sure no one goes through what they went through.

I’ve talked to some of [the wrongfully accused], and it’s really sweet. Forrest [Welborn]’s mom invited me yesterday. She was like, “What are you doing tonight? I’m baking cookies at the bar. You should come by and celebrate with us.” She was like, “They’re called sunshine cookies.” It’s so pure, and also they’ve been through so much.

The interview with Forrest Welborn ends up being the most emotional part of this final episode. He was never even formally charged with the crimes, but you can see how devastating it’s been to be associated with them for decades.

He’s been damaged by it, but he’s a really fucking strong person and his mom is so cool. Before we even did the interview, we went and hung out at the bar a few nights, just sat with him, drank with him, made him hopefully realize we were humans and not vultures. In a sense, we are vultures, because we’re trying to get a story, but I just wanted him to know I’m a person. And so we just spent a lot of time, as much time as we could with such a short deadline—but also his bar’s really cool, so it’s not hard. His mom, every Tuesday night, makes soup for everyone.

Laura Miller

Alex Murdaugh’s Murder Convictions Were Just Overturned. The Reason Why Is Wild.

Read More

When it was time to do the interview, I just prayed it would go OK, because I could tell he was so nervous, and all his lawyers were there, and everyone cared about him so much. He was definitely surrounded by a phalanx of people who deeply cared about his well-being, which I was very grateful to see. And he’s so amazingly articulate, even though he’s working through something. He has fucking something he wants to say, and he was there to say it. So he brought it.

There’s that incredible scene when you broach the subject of how his friends betrayed him, and he just gets up and walks out the front door. You just hold the shot, and it’s really not clear if he’s ever coming back.

Oh my god. I thought the interview was over then, because I’d touched the stove and he retreated. But then he fucking came back and was like, “No, I’m going to do this.”

It seems like pretty extraordinary discipline on your part to just wait that out, rather than run after him and try to get him back on camera.

No, I knew he needed space. It was obvious. I didn’t know him that well at that point. I’m not going to be some weird woman chasing you.

It does seem like, as a filmmaker, you would be OK if he’d walked out. It’s not about getting the story at all costs. You consider the cost.

If you love someone, set them free. It’s such a cliché, but it’s the same in documentaries. If you care about them, they’ll come back if they want to. If they don’t, that’s the answer the story has.

1. The No. 1 Movie on Netflix Is Every Parent’s Worst Nightmare

2. A Brilliant HBO Documentary Explored the Effects of an Unsolved Murder. Now, in Its Surprise Final Episode, the Case Is Solved.

You didn’t live in Austin when the yogurt shop murders took place, but you have been there a long time, and it’s clear this story had a personal component for you, far more so now that you are close to so many of the people involved. How do you feel about being able to close this chapter of your life?

I feel really good about the last episode. When we finished the first four, even though I did what I wanted to do, which was to make something about grief and trauma, we all felt like it didn’t end quite right. It still felt like so much was unresolved. So even though it was hard to go back into this darkness, it felt really great to make something where there is some partial closure. I guess it’s not just the families that feel lifted up by that. It’s me too. It’s the team, also. I work with the same people over and over, so it’s kind of a collective. And when we heard yesterday that the boys got $35 million, it was so emotional. There needs to be a reckoning. This is part of the reckoning.

Get the best of movies, TV, books, music, and more.