Chris Kasick’s Citizen Sleuth explores the rise and unraveling of Appalachian podcaster Emily Nestor, whose hit true crime series Mile Marker 181 investigates the mysterious death of a young woman in her community. What begins as a gripping chronicle of an amateur sleuth fighting for answers gradually evolves into something far more complicated: a portrait of how the pursuit of truth, fame, and justice can become dangerously entangled.
Kasick sets the tone early with striking B-roll and stylized interview setups that reflect Nestor’s grassroots approach. The documentary looks polished and confident, but it never forgets the scrappy, DIY world from which its subject comes. Nestor herself is immediately likable. She is warm, disarming, and driven. Even without formal training, she manages to organize an impressive amount of information and attention around a case that clearly did not sit right with her. For much of the film, she appears earnest and genuinely invested in helping a grieving family find clarity.
As Citizen Sleuth unfolds, Kasick gains rare access to many of the people Nestor discusses on her podcast. Hearing their perspectives complicates the story in surprising and sometimes unsettling ways. Whether viewers believe every account or not, the documentary makes it clear that these young people have carried real pain and real consequences from being thrust into the true crime spotlight. This shift in viewpoint becomes one of the film’s strongest qualities. It reframes the narrative and forces both Nestor and the audience to rethink who the victims truly are.
There is an undeniable thrill to watching the twists and turns of the story, especially as Kasick captures moments of raw honesty from Nestor. But the explosive final act reframes the entire documentary. What starts as a story about an amateur investigator becomes a reflection on the ethical pitfalls of true crime media. By the end, the film is equal parts fascinating and heartbreaking, and it leaves a lingering sense of devastation. Many viewers may walk away feeling that Emily, in her dedication and tunnel vision, ultimately became a victim of her own creation.
That emotional complexity is also where the film is most divisive. Some of the most pressing ethical questions are explored late in the runtime, and a deeper investigation into those themes could have elevated the film even further. The use of Dutch angles, while clearly stylistic, may also be a distraction for some. Still, even when the documentary frustrates, it feels intentional. Kasick invites discomfort. He knows the true crime community needs a mirror held to it, and he holds it steady.
The result is a film that is infuriating, intriguing, and thought provoking. It examines not just a case, but the culture around cases, and the way a desire to help can blur into a desire to be heard. It also sparks a natural curiosity about what happened after the cameras stopped rolling. Did Emily continue podcasting? Did she walk away from true crime entirely? The documentary does not say, and an epilogue would have been welcome.
Despite its imperfections, Citizen Sleuth remains one of the most compelling examinations of true crime content creation in recent years. It is an absorbing character study, a cautionary tale, and a reminder that behind every theory, every clue, and every episode is a real human life forever shaped by someone else’s narrative.
Verdict: A gripping and stylized documentary that raises important questions about ethics in true crime, anchored by a compelling and complicated central figure. It occasionally holds its toughest questions for too long, but its final impact is powerful.
Jessie Hobson