by SaraKay Smullens, MSW, LCSW, DCSW, CGP, CFLE, BCD
I have struggled with how to write about Body Brokers, an unsettling, upsetting film, one that exposes shocking drug treatment violations that continue to make my blood boil. Social workers know that when the Affordable Care Act was signed in 2008, with all good intentions, it required every healthcare provider to cover substance abuse treatment. We know the reality (I looked up the numbers) – a terrifying increase in drug abuse and suicide rates in subsequent years (170% between 2009 and 2018). We know that reported drug overdoses in 2020 became the highest ever recorded in a year (81,000). But did you know the term body brokers? I didn’t. Please read on: No spoilers, only framing follows.
In Body Brokers, writer and director John Swab offers his life experience on some of what has gone so horrifically wrong. Swab knows his subject. He ran away from home at age 15, lived on the streets, and became addicted to crack and heroin. He spent times in “all kinds of rehabs,” including a cluster experience of two and a half years in various residential treatment facilities.
In Swab’s exposé, we never learn why teen drug abusers Utah (Jack Kilmer – yes, Val’s son – his mom English actress Joanne Whalley) and Opal (Alice Englert) end up on the streets of rural Ohio until their seemingly chance encounter with a dubious stranger Wood (Michael Kenneth Williams) changes their lives. It soon becomes clear that Utah and Opal are but hooks, to draw us in, longing for their recovery and a hopeful ending. As the plot evolves, however, viewers learn that they are the bait that unveils the film’s true concentration – one based on what Swab lived through – Greed.
John Swab’s intent is unwavering – to reveal unscrupulous manipulators who realized, as funds became readily available, they could provide “treatment centers,” some under the intricate cover of multimillion dollar publicly traded companies, where insurance fraud is perpetrated, sometimes against government-based programs such as Medicaid. Families are manipulated and deceived, and the vulnerable young pay the largest price – the loss of their ability to think, to see, to reason, to value their lives.
Such centers promote reputable therapy, as they entice residents to recruit others by dangling easy money, continue to make drugs available, and fill countless beds through paid body brokers. Residents return again and again, and different facilities may also be used in well orchestrated, financially lucrative returns.
In interviews, John Swab reminds us that in southern California alone, where there are 500,000 beds to be filled each year, there is annual profit of $12 billion. He underscores that practices revealed in his film are commonplace: payment to participate in the program, to relapse, to bring in recruits, as well as insurance policies purchased for recruits.
As Swab brings his truths to the screen, Utah, despite all, appears to find sobriety. He also finds emotional connection with May (Jessica Rothe), the practical, pretty, appealing tech, now sober and drug free, who fears leaving the center. (We never learn why.) We watch the multi-talented Michael Kenneth Williams (Wood – among other parts, do you remember him in his unforgettable break-out role as Omar in the series “Wire”?) and Wood’s drug treatment mogul partner, Vin, played in ruthless, sickening dimension by Frank Grillo, offer their corrupt mentoring to the vulnerable Utah, as they introduce him to the glamour and disguised escape money can provide – for brief moments.
The most interesting film portrayal is offered by Dr. White (Melissa Leo, the 2011 Oscar winner for The Fighter), a devoted therapist who could well be a social worker. Her clinical skills are impeccable – her investment in those she treats authentic. Dr. White’s addiction under control, the film does not clarify her relationship with Vin, Wood, and their corruption, or what keeps her enmeshed and complicit in a treacherous setting where she has to know what is going on around her. Don’t miss her warning to Utah, a far too brief snippet-scene, a poignant warning: Is she asking him to set himself free, when she cannot?
I do not recommend that you see Body Brokers for character development. It is missing. Or for a splendidly edited film. The first 45 minutes drag. I recommend the film to you because I believe John Swab’s truths, and I believe his is an enormously brave, informative, and awakening film, which in the very least warrants a full-scale federal investigation. In interviews, he openly states that after what he saw and endured, he is so distrustful of rehabs and treatment centers that he limits his referrals to 12-step meetings, where he will accompany anyone who asks.
Many of our clients, however, desperately need rehabs and in-patient healing. And knowing this, I also recommend this film to you because I want to discuss it with you, to know your experience and thoughts – your truths.
Here are mine: I know those who have received life-saving support, awakenings, insights, and direction through both inpatient and outpatient drug treatment settings. And I deeply respect and value colleagues who staff these settings, giving all they can whenever and whereever they can. However, before selection, it is essential to check out all facilities carefully: study programs and treatments offered, as well as staff qualifications and experience; read online evaluations; speak directly to an administrator, where you are offered time to ask any questions you may have; and whenever possible, speak to one who has been a resident in the program.
SaraKay Smullens, MSW, LCSW, DCSW, CGP, CFLE, BCD, whose private and pro bono clinical social work practice is in Philadelphia, is a certified group psychotherapist and family life educator. She is a recipient of the Lifetime Achievement Award (2004) and the Social Worker of the Year (2018) from the Pennsylvania chapter of NASW, and the 2013 NASW Media Award for Best Article. In 2018, she was one of five graduates of the University of Pennsylvania School of Social Policy and Practice selected for the school’s inaugural Hall of Fame. SaraKay is the author of Burnout and Self-Care in Social Work.
