Netflix Documentary On Lucy Letby Sparks Outrage

Netflix’s latest true crime documentary, The Investigation of Lucy Letby, has arrived with a bang—and a considerable amount of controversy. Released on February 4, 2026, the film revisits one of the most harrowing criminal cases in recent British history: the conviction of former neonatal nurse Lucy Letby, who was found guilty in 2023 of murdering seven babies and attempting to kill at least six others at the Countess of Chester Hospital between June 2015 and June 2016. Letby, now serving 15 whole life terms in prison, maintains her innocence, but the documentary’s approach to her story and its use of artificial intelligence have left viewers and critics alike grappling with difficult questions about privacy, ethics, and justice.

For those who have followed the case, the facts are grimly familiar. Letby was arrested three times as police sought answers to a spate of unexplained infant deaths and collapses in the hospital’s neonatal unit. According to The Telegraph, her arrests were dramatic and traumatic—twice she was taken from her home while in bed or wearing nightclothes, each time appearing exhausted and stunned. In new footage released by Cheshire police for the Netflix documentary, Letby is seen telling her parents, “You know I didn’t do it,” her voice breaking as she’s led away in handcuffs. Her mother’s reply, “We know that,” is heart-wrenching.

The case against Letby was built largely on circumstantial evidence and a series of notes she wrote during the investigation, including one infamous post-it that read, “I am Evil, I did this.” When questioned by police, Letby explained, “I just wrote it because everything had got on top of me. I felt like I’d only ever done my best for those babies and then people were trying to say that my practice wasn’t good, or that I’d done something and I just couldn’t cope.” She added that some of the consultants made her feel she was to blame, and it crossed her mind that “they were trying to put the blame on me for something somebody else had done.”

Despite these protestations, the prosecution’s case was bolstered by testimony from medical experts, including consulting paediatrician Dewi Evans, whose opinion became central to the trial. Yet, as The Guardian noted, Evans was later criticized by a Court of Appeal judge for making “no effort to provide a balanced opinion.” Dr John Gibbs, another consultant who worked alongside Letby, admitted there was a “kernel of truth” in findings from an international panel of experts that suggested the unit was understaffed—a possible alternative explanation for the tragedies. Still, he insisted, “I don’t think there was a miscarriage of justice, but you worry no one actually saw her do it.”

With the case now under review by the Criminal Cases Review Commission, the documentary’s arrival on Netflix was always going to stir the pot. But it’s not just the retelling of a painful story that has viewers talking. Instead, it’s the film’s use of AI-generated digital anonymisation for two of its key interviewees: “Sarah,” the mother of one of Letby’s victims, and “Maisie,” a university friend of the nurse. Both women’s faces, voices, and even names were digitally altered to protect their identities—a decision that has left many viewers unsettled.

In the opening credits, a disclaimer explains, “Some contributors have been digitally disguised to maintain anonymity. Their names, appearances, and voices have been altered.” Throughout the film, viewers watch these AI avatars blink, cry, and deliver emotional testimony—an experience many found jarring. As LADbible reported, one viewer took to social media to say, “This digital anonymising on the Netflix Lucy Letby doc is incredibly unsettling. I’m assuming they used AI. Just go back to using voice of an actor.” Another commented, “Netflix’s choice to use AI on interviewees’ faces was pretty disturbing. Might as well have just blurred their faces.” The digitally manipulated images didn’t end there: the documentary also doctored old photos of Letby to include the anonymised version of her university friend, blurring the lines between reality and digital artifice.

The backlash has been swift and vocal. On platforms like Reddit and X (formerly Twitter), viewers have called the AI-generated faces “grotesque,” “disingenuous,” and “a huge injustice to the actual mother.” One commenter lamented, “It took me so far out of the documentary. Feels disingenuous to the subject matter.” Another feared, “If they want to anonymise someone, just shoot from another angle, or something. I fear the future, where everything we watch on TV will be fake.” The criticism hasn’t been limited to viewers—critics from major newspapers have also questioned the wisdom and ethics of using AI in such a sensitive context, with The Guardian calling the decision “egregious.”

Letby’s parents, for their part, publicly condemned the documentary before its release, describing it as a “complete invasion of privacy.” In a statement, they said, “It would likely kill us if we did [watch it].” Their refusal to engage with the film underscores the ongoing pain and division the case has caused—not just for the families involved, but for the wider community.

For all its technological bells and whistles, The Investigation of Lucy Letby offers little new information about the case itself. As The Telegraph observed, “Everyone interviewed, including one of Letby’s best friends and the mother of one of the victims, has spoken at length elsewhere.” The documentary spends an hour establishing the case against Letby and half an hour examining its possible flaws, but ultimately leaves viewers “exactly where we started: that is, none the wiser.”

Some critics have accused the production of being self-congratulatory, with police interviewees walking viewers through the investigation step by step, from the initial suspicions to Letby’s arrests and eventual conviction. The film’s structure and narrative choices have drawn fire for failing to probe deeper into the systemic issues—such as understaffing and institutional failures—that may have contributed to the tragedies. Others have questioned whether the documentary should have been made at all, given the unhealed wounds and ongoing legal reviews.

Yet, for all its flaws, the documentary does provide a window into the complex, emotionally charged world of modern true crime storytelling. The use of AI for digital anonymisation may have been intended to protect vulnerable interviewees, but it has instead sparked a wider debate about authenticity, empathy, and the future of documentary filmmaking. As one viewer put it, “I fear the future, where everything we watch on TV will be fake.”

With the Lucy Letby case still under review and public opinion deeply divided, The Investigation of Lucy Letby is unlikely to be the last word on this tragic chapter in British history. For now, it stands as a stark reminder of the ethical dilemmas at the intersection of technology, media, and justice.

The story, it seems, is far from over.