Creating “Surviving R. Kelly”: Why dream hampton Put Together the Powerful Series

The documentary’s executive producer on reframing the conversation by centering Kelly’s survivors
Asante McGee Andrea Kelly and Kitti Jones
Asante McGee, Andrea Kelly, and Kitti Jones in “Surviving R. Kelly.” Photos courtesy of Lifetime.

Open secrets about sexual violence in the entertainment industry have grown from whispers to public debate. One project currently at the center of this shift is “Surviving R. Kelly,” the six-part docuseries that finished airing on Lifetime over the weekend. Featuring more than 50 interviews, the show unpacks the R&B singer’s reported two-decade history of using money and fame to sexually abuse women, oftentimes young black girls. While Kelly is the main focus, it does not shy away from addressing the factors that produce a culture in which black and brown survivors of sexual violence are disregarded.

The cries of black women survivors have not been deemed salient enough to pierce the heart of American society, where race and socioeconomic status remain significant factors in determining whose pain is prioritized. Research shows that black women experience higher rates of rape and sexual assault than white, Asian, or Latina women; however, their reports are less likely to be recognized by the legal system. Though striking, this data does not tell the full story. It cannot attest to those who suffered in silence, whether to avoid retraumatization by a justice system that historically fails them or because their own community sided with their abuser. For a more comprehensive understanding of sexual violence against black women, you must center the voices of survivors—which “Surviving R. Kelly” intentionally does, with rare and remarkable results. And as these women share their truths, the connections between money, power, and race appear inescapable.

At the helm of the series is executive producer dream hampton, a writer, filmmaker, and activist who helped shift the conversation about abuser accountability in the music industry decades ago. In 1991, after Dr. Dre assaulted journalist Dee Barnes at a club, hampton was one of the few writers challenging rappers on misogyny and physical violence against women. And in the earlier years of her hip-hop journalism career, hampton reviewed music through an intellectual framework that contrasted it with the patriarchy and capitalism. She has never been afraid to foster candid conversations that center abuse, or to call out those who avoid such reality: In the early stages of “Surviving R. Kelly,” hampton reached out to many artists who previously worked with Kelly; all but John Legend declined. But as hampton noted, she hopes the absence of celebrities will not be the big takeaway from the series. We spoke with her by phone about what she hoped to accomplish with “Surviving R. Kelly.”

Pitchfork: Like a lot of people who watched the docuseries, I was familiar with R. Kelly’s track record, so I thought I was prepared. I wasn’t. It was difficult to watch. Emotionally, what was this process like for you?

dream hampton: There is a need to take care of yourself emotionally, but there is also a need to be receiving of those at the center of this [the survivors]. Then there is an additional layer required: Creating a film requires constant screenings of the same clips; even five minutes’ worth of footage could take an hour to cut. Because you are focusing on getting the best take, you grow some type of armor that may not even be healthy. I’m not saying I figured it out, but you must create some balance because you need to honor the integrity of the moment. People [the survivors] were so honest and open. But I didn’t know who Robert was. I thought R. Kelly was a predator who targeted young black girls. I did not know that physical abuse and the denial of food, movement, and communication with your family were part of his repertoire. I didn’t realize the sadism of Robert Kelly.

Robert’s brother Bruce in interviews from “Surviving R. Kelly.” Photo courtesy of Lifetime.

Robert's brother Bruce in interviews from "Surviving R. Kelly." Photo courtesy of Lifetime.
One of the biggest shocks for me was when one of Kelly’s brothers referred to his alleged abuse as a preference—like, “My brother likes young girls, I like older women.” As you were making the show, were there any moments like this that just floored you?

Yes. Let’s stay on that moment with Bruce, the brother we interviewed in jail. This is a false equivalence. We see them coming out of the White House all the time, but it’s a really good idea to ask yourself: How is Trump-like behavior showing up in my personal life? One of the things we learned from talking to strangers about sex, consent, and false equivalences is that a lot of men don’t understand what consent is. That was a huge revelation. You see it just watching online conversations about Bill Cosby, or when people like Cee-lo say “how could it be rape if she doesn’t remember it?”

When the survivors described how Kelly used his own vulnerabilities as a form of manipulation, it felt familiar to me. I recognized similar patterns in people I know, but prior to this, I’m not sure if I would have identified them as patterns of abuse. Which is why it was so powerful to have the survivors unpack their own stories: It taught the viewers a lot.

Absolutely. I didn’t want the feedback we included from clinical psychologists to be like voices of God. It’s important they were black people, but I wanted to give a framework from the perspective of the survivors. I heard from every one of the girls who sat with me that he shared his own stories of abuse. So, him being sexually abused wasn’t some big reveal during his [2012] interview with Tavis Smiley. It was something he weaponized with the women he abused.

The way the clinicians highlighted how much stargazing abusers generally employ, coupled with their analysis of the psychological trauma Kelly inflicted on his survivors, made me wonder if your goal for that aspect of the series was to reduce victim-blaming.

Absolutely. I hope that it will shift the idea of who these women are. But I’m also hoping that viewers will see that there were many times in R. Kelly’s life where he could have dealt with the fact that he was abused, and that instead he was becoming who he became. So, if they [viewers] are on the abusive spectrum, I hope it becomes flagged for them.

R. Kelly put together an entire entourage of people who would help him cover up his abuse. One of the men quoted in the series said he went to local malls and a McDonald’s while touring with Kelly, with the intention of meeting young girls to introduce to him. If this were another crime, they could be charged as an accessory. Do you think these men should also be held accountable?

As someone who is working hard to be an abolitionist, I want to imagine justice outside of the criminal injustice framework. Yes, I think we should absolutely look at the ecosystem of abusers, and those who enable them. But then we should be looking around and asking questions like, “Why do black women say things like, ‘These girls are fast’? And why are white women saying things like, ‘My son could have been Brett Kavanaugh’?” I was giving a talk with Tarana Burke [founder of the Me Too movement] and a black woman stood up and raised the issue of girls playing aggressive tag with her son on the playground. She was basically trying to talk about that as if it’s a more important issue than girls being abused. So, we also have to look at our own communities and ask some uncomfortable questions. There are so many layers to address.

You noted that you are working hard to be a prison abolitionist. Does Kelly’s level of abuse challenge that for you in any way?

It’s not like victims of sexual violence are receiving justice in the current system. They are being traumatized and experiencing violence all over again when they go to report. I’m from Detroit where there are tens of thousands of rape kits that aren’t processed—and this is not unique to Detroit. So, when I say I’m an abolitionist but sexual violence gives me pause, I’m not saying that the current system is protecting women, because it’s not. This is something I’m working through with people I love and trust.

You show footage of Kelly saying that the action against him should have been taken 30 years ago if it was going to happen. What do you say to those who watched and still wonder why this didn’t happen 30 years ago?

There have been extensive efforts made by organizers to address this [over the years]. But now there is a larger movement led by black women [#MuteRKelly]. There is strategy and social media to heighten it. And more people are paying attention now.

What are some of the key things you want people to take away from “Surviving R. Kelly”?

I would like people to turn away from R. Kelly. I want them to not have all these caveats about him. I would like to relentlessly hit them with so much evidence that they can no longer, without shame, be an R. Kelly supporter.