Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. Netflix’s “American Nightmare”, which recounts the harrowing saga of Denise Huskins and Aaron Quinn, is a prime example of this.

This three-part true-crime series from “Tinder Swindler” filmmakers Felicity Morris and Bernadette Higgins is a poignant exploration of trauma, media portrayal, and the complexities of navigating truth in a case that could’ve been ripped from the pages of a crime thriller.

In 2015, a frantic call shattered the silence of the Vallejo police department’s afternoon. Quinn, his voice trembling, narrated a terrifying ordeal: masked intruders in wetsuits; flashing white light; a drugged haze; and the chilling kidnapping of his girlfriend the night before.

Whispers of suspicion swirled around him, fuelled by his delayed police report and an elaborate – some might say far-fetched – narrative.

Days morphed into an agonising blur until a twist worthy of a Hollywood thriller unfolded: Huskins showed up, unharmed. Was it a harrowing escape, or a meticulously staged act by a vengeful girlfriend?

Comparisons to the case were immediately drawn by the media to Rosamund Pike and Ben Affleck’s 2014 movie “Gone Girl”, adapted from the novel by Gillian Flynn. “American Nightmare” reveals piece by piece the institutional biases that influenced the decisions made by law enforcement and mistakes made during the investigation.

Did the police have preconceived notions that led them to jump to conclusions? Or was Quinn truly the perpetrator of the crime and Huskins the victim?

The documentary doesn’t sugarcoat the truth, forcing viewers to face the fact that outward appearances can be deceiving, and that delayed justice can make life a living hell.

“American Nightmare” does a commendable job of treading carefully to avoid sensationalising an already sensationalised story. Unlike many exploitative true-crime sagas, it delves into the emotional toll on the central couple and their families, focuses on their resilience, and prioritises their voices and perspectives.

This allows them to reclaim their narrative and challenge victim-blaming tendencies often prevalent in such documentaries, offering a more nuanced understanding of their ordeal while enabling audiences to connect with their experiences.

Of course, what makes a true crime series engaging isn’t just the crime in and of itself, but the way it is presented.

Here, the filmmakers expertly weave a thrilling tale, leaving you on the edge of your seat and keeping you guessing as to who the actual perpetrator is, while making sure Quinn and Huskins are portrayed respectfully.

Editorial decisions came into play: for instance, a piece of information is casually introduced in the first episode, only for its significance and impact to be revealed in the last.

But apart from presenting a compelling story, “American Nightmare” shines as an example of investigative journalism, unearthing new information and shedding light on previously overlooked questions, prompting viewers to question the established narrative.

For example, we find out about the two missed calls on Quinn’s phone that could have led the police straight to Huskins if they had just traced the calls.

This wider lens extends beyond the case, raising crucial questions and awareness on issues such as gender dynamics, societal biases, and the treatment of victims within the justice system.

For instance, the police could not bring themselves to believe Huskins’ story of alleged rape and the manner in which it had purportedly happened. There was also no proper follow-up on her sexual-assault examination results.

In fact, it took a policewoman from another city – one Misty Carausu – to bring justice to the couple, simply because she followed the leads while working on a similar case – all of which prompts critical reflection and conversation about law enforcement, prejudice, and victim blaming.

Overall, this gripping and multifaceted documentary emerges as a binge-worthy series.

‘American Nightmare’ is streaming on Netflix.