Title: “Pray Away”

Release date: Streaming on Netflix on Aug. 3, 2021

Directed by: Kristine Stolakis

Run time: 1 hour, 41 minutes

Genres: Documentary

Rated: PG-13 (for mature subject matter, some sexual references, language, brief partial nudity)

Where I saw it: At home on my phone on a Monday evening, using the Netflix app, free with subscription

What it’s about: Filmmaker Stolakis chronicles the rise and fall of “conversion therapy,” the controversial use of religion to “change” a person’s sexual orientation or gender identity, by using TV clips and interviews with those who were survivors of the therapy and former leaders of such programs.

What I liked about it: Though conversion therapy has been around for decades (and continues to be, though more out of the public eye than previously), “Pray Away” still feels like a timely and important watch as it thoroughly but largely without judgement recounts how the practice damaged not only those who underwent it but those who administered it. It is in turns educational, observant, sad and infuriating, though it could have stood to be more of the latter. If seeing late TV evangelist Jerry Falwell (in old footage) saying that AIDS was God’s punishment for homosexuals doesn’t get you rankled, I don’t know what will. Stolakis’ film goes back to the beginnings of such organizations as Exodus International and studies the homophobia that drove the founding of such “ex-gay” ministries. The power of the film lies in the stories told by its subjects. The most compelling of these recollections is by Julie Rodgers, who we meet in the present day as she is about to marry her lesbian partner in a church. As a teen, Rodgers came out to her mother, a devout and conservative woman who took her daughter to Ricky Chelette (who declined to be interviewed), who ran Living Hope, affiliated with Exodus International. Rodgers talks about how easily she was influenced at the time and how desperate she was to find acceptance. She became a shining star in the Exodus program, becoming a featured speaker. But she was tormented. Rodgers talks about how much fun she had at retreats when the participants were away from the program leaders and could be their “queer little selves” but poignantly recalls how she was so unhappy she took to burning her own skin. She survived the program and eventually learned to accept herself, and she is an important bridge in the story in that she embraced her homosexuality but also remained a person of faith. She, as she puts it, learned to separate “Jesus from the Christians who hurt me.” Rodgers is part of the most powerful moment in the film, when conversion therapy survivors, during the filming of a TV piece, confront a leader of Exodus while Rodgers still was affiliated with the group. It, along with the backlash against the 2008 passing of Proposition 8 (banning same-sex marriage) in (of all places) California, are presented as turning points leading to the decline of conversion therapy.

What I didn’t like about it: Not much is ambitious about the storytelling, and the approach seems almost cool or disconnected. Also, given that conversion therapy is largely rejected now by even those who performed it, perhaps a more aggressive approach was warranted. The documentary isn’t sympathetic to former conversion therapy leaders, but it also isn’t much interested in challenging them. … The movie follows one young man who underwent the therapy and still is holding firm in his beliefs that his faith has “cured” him of living life as a transexual, but we only see him in action, stopping strangers on the street to pray with them (“Hey ma’am, do you need any prayer today?” are the firsts words heard in the movie) and organizing a rally by those who share his beliefs, but he is not questioned about his situation or how conversion has affected others.

Who it should appeal to: Anyone with concern about how humans treat their fellow humans.

My score: 75 out of 100.