Ramsay’s experience as a prisoner was a little different. “I don’t think any of the prisoners were aware of the camera, to be honest,” he told Ars. “We weren’t entirely sure where he was, we thought we saw him sometimes. But we did not receive regular instruction, were poorly fed, poorly clothed, etc. In a situation like this, what’s the camera angle is the least of your worries.”

In retrospect, The Stanford Prison Experiment may have more in common with reality TV; the industry term evolved into “unscripted” television because of the myriad ways the final product is manipulated and shaped throughout filming. Zimbardo even admits this in the documentary, calling his experiment “the first reality show.”

Narrative control

The recreation takes place in Los Angeles.

National Geographic/Katrina Marcinowski

The recreation takes place in Los Angeles.

National Geographic/Katrina Marcinowski

A recreation guard on set with director Juliette Eisner.

National Geographic/Katrina Marcinowski

A recreation guard on set with director Juliette Eisner.

National Geographic/Katrina Marcinowski

A prop TV shows scenes from inside the lobby of the recreation set.

National Geographic/Daniel Hollis

A prop TV shows scenes from inside the lobby of the recreation set.

National Geographic/Daniel Hollis

A recreation guard on set with director Juliette Eisner.

National Geographic/Katrina Marcinowski

A prop TV shows scenes from inside the lobby of the recreation set.

National Geographic/Daniel Hollis

Original cast members Karl Van Orsdol, Dave Eshleman, Chuck Burton, Doug Korpi, Jerry Shue and Clay Ramsay in the Los Angeles reenactment

National Geographic/Katrina Marcinowski

Dave Eshleman (right) and his stunt double on set in Los Angeles.

A behind-the-scenes look at the recreation set.

National Geographic/Daniel Hollis

Zimbardo’s version of events has long dominated the prevailing understanding of the Stanford Prison Experiment, even though some of the original participants have frequently attempted to counter this narrative; their voices have never dominated so much. Although Eshleman participated in many media interviews over the following decades, he said that much of his commentary was often edited in favor of Zimbardo’s preferred narrative.

For his part, Zimbardo has repeatedly said that Korpi, for example, lied about faking his fall, pointing out that Korpi became a psychologist in prison because of how deeply the experiment affected him. Zimbardo also denies in the NatGeo documentary that Eshleman acted throughout the experiment; his interpretation is that this is how Eshleman rationalized his behavior and dealt with the guilt.

“I think I knew if I was playing or not,” Eshleman countered. “How could he not consider the possibility that not only I, but everyone in his little demo was acting, that I simply fell into roles that were expected of us, to be paid $15 a day? This annoys me. he decided to throw us (the guards) under the bus after directing us to do what he wanted. Maybe he never took an acting class. In fact, the basic script of the Stanford Prison Experiment has found its way into many improv classes as an exercise prompt.