'Killer Sally' Director on 'Complicated' Case: 'She's Not The Perfect Victim'

It's a familiar, though distressing, story: a woman suffers extreme domestic abuse at the hands of her male partner and injures or even kills him in self-defense. But instead of being seen as the real victim, she is perceived as a violent, out-of-control woman.

A 2021 report from the World Health Organization (WHO) found that worldwide, almost 27 percent of women aged 15-49 had been subjected to some form of physical and/or sexual violence by their intimate partner. In the U.S., 77 percent of women in prisons were survivors of intimate partner violence, per a 2016 study from the Vera Institute of Justice.

That scenario has been told in true crime dramas such as Dear John and Lorena (about the 1994 trial of Lorena Bobbitt, who cut off her husband's penis) as well as gripping documentaries featured on streaming platforms. And it is also the focus of Killer Sally, a true crime documentary now airing on Netflix. It's about the case of Sally McNeil, who served almost 25 years in prison for the second-degree murder of her husband, Ray McNeil in 1995. She has always maintained she acted in self-defense.

"Sally is very forthright, surprisingly so, even when it comes to her own flaws. She really owns them and she's not the perfect victim and she doesn't try to hide that," Killer Sally director Nanette Burstein told Newsweek.

"We want victims to be perfect, and often they're not and we get upset with them but Sally didn't shy away from that, and yet has maintained her innocence. She's had a really tough life, and she remains to be someone who is a half-glass-full person. Despite all of her hardship, and all the trauma that she's been through, [Sally] has maintained an optimistic point of view."

February 14, 1995

On February 14, 1995—Valentine's Day—Sally McNeil fatally shot Ray McNeil, her husband of eight years: once in the head and in the abdomen. She called 911 immediately after the shooting, saying to the operator: "I just shot my husband because he just beat me up."

As Sally explains in Netflix's Killer Sally, she shot her husband in self-defense after he choked her and acted violently toward her at their home. The chilling 911 call plays out in the documentary. In the background, Shantina, Sally's daughter, is heard screaming.

In the documentary, Sally's children, Shantina and John, detail how their mother and stepfather Ray were arguing on the night he died.

The two recall other instances of violence in the family home, including a time when Ray broke Sally's nose, hearing their mother "gasp" for air as Ray choked her. They also remember Ray behaving in a violent manner toward them as kids.

Friends of Ray who also appear in the documentary admit they had seen him act violently at other people but never at Sally. One friend describes him as a "gentle giant."

On the night of the shooting, Sally was arrested and interviewed by detectives. When they informed her Ray had died, she cried out: "I didn't want it to be that way. I just wanted him to stop hitting me."

Audiences witness the real interview room footage where Sally is reunited with her children, explaining to them they will be sent to a children's home (later to live with their grandparents) until her case is resolved.

John McNeil who was 9 years old at the time, reassures his mother in the interrogation room: "If you thought [he] was gonna kill you, then that's self-defense."

However, on March 19, 1996, Sally was convicted of second-degree murder and sentenced to 19 years to life.

"Lust at First Sight"

Before the fatal incident, both Sally and Ray were bodybuilders. They met at a gym, with Sally describing their romance as "lust at first sight." The couple married after two months of dating.

According to the documentary, Ray used steroids and Sally admits she too dabbled in them. When her husband's career began to flourish, she worked in "muscle prostitution," wrestling men in hotel rooms for starring in mail-to-order videos to help support him.

However, her muscular frame and sport of choice added a unique layer of complexity and sexism to her case, and her passion for bodybuilding would ultimately be used against her.

Sally McNeil's legal representation argued the shooting was in self-defense. They said their client was suffering from "battered-woman syndrome," a legal defense originating in the 1970s used to explain a pattern of signs and symptoms of a woman who has suffered psychical, psychological, and sexual abuse at the hands of her male partner. It is now understood as a subset of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

On the other hand, prosecutors argued at trial, Sally was "too strong to be battered" and she was labeled in the tabloid press as a "pumped-up princess" and "brawny bride."

"She had a character name for her wrestling videos which was 'Killer Sally,'" said director Burstein, "and that came back to haunt her in so many ways during this case, which is why the series is called that [Killer Sally]. It was definitely used against her in the trial. Even though it wasn't evidence of anything, it was very damaging."

As told in Killer Sally, Ray was also having an affair at the time of his death, and that Sally knew about it. The prosecution successfully argued the murder was premeditated as she had shot Ray twice out of jealousy.

Burstein said: "The most blatant [example of sexism] is the prosecutor arguing during the trial that Sally could not possibly be a victim of violence, because she is a 'violent' person, and a violent person cannot be a victim of violence, which is absurd and in the fact that she was also strong, she couldn't have been a [so-called] victim of violence.

"I mean her husband, Ray McNeil, had a history of abusing her, and weighed 100 pounds more than her in pure muscle. So while Sally was strong, and she was a bodybuilder, and she could even lift Ray, he could throw her around like a baton and smash her. I asked her at one point in the series...she had a gun in the house.

"I asked her why she had it. She said, 'Well, Ray was gone a lot with competitions, and she wanted to defend herself. And I said, 'Were you ever worried about Ray using that gun against you?' She said, 'No, Ray was a weapon. He didn't need a weapon. She was like 250 pounds of weapon himself.' So that kind of sums it all up, as far as her vulnerability in that situation."

Aftermath

On May 29, 2020, Sally was granted parole by the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation.

Today, Sally, now 60, is living her life outside of prison walls with her new husband in Northern California.

"I didn't deserve the sentence I got. But I don't care anymore, I'm free," Sally says towards the end of Killer Sally.

For Burstein, she hopes Sally's case would shine a light on larger social issues and factors that are still at play today when it comes to domestic abuse cases. The documentary highlights a failing legal system and the misogyny at play that more than likely affected the outcome of McNeil's case.

"I think domestic abuse is a huge issue. One out of every three women globally is a victim of physical and or sexual abuse by an intimate partner. I think there needs to be a revisit of how we deal with this. I mean, particularly in America, absolutely, but I'm sure globally even more so. How we deal with it, both socially and judicially and this [Sally McNeil] is a very complicated story and it deals with not only domestic violence, but gender roles, the idea of the angry woman, and the complicated world of bodybuilding. There seemed like a lot to explore."

Burstein also hopes audiences watching Killer Sally will recognize that these types of cases are still happening and that the way they are handled needs to be changed.

"It's still very hard for women, who are in these situations that do end up killing their husbands in self-defense is very hard to prove. It's very hard to prove an imminent threat. There are ways that the crime plays out or it's not the perfect scenario. Maybe the guy turned his back and she shot him in the back. Or in Sally's case, she shot him twice out of fear that he would come after her the second after the first time.

"People might watch this and think, 'Oh, that was the '90s.' But it's not. It's still happening today. And I really think we need to revisit how we handle this, both judicially and, culturally."

Killer Sally is streaming on Netflix now.

Specialists from the Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network (RAINN) sexual assault hotline are available 24/7 via phone (1-800-656-4673) and online chat. Additional support from the group is also accessible via the mobile app.