In the wake of hip-hop mogul Sean “Diddy” Combs’ stunning fall from grace, a frenzy of documentaries has emerged to chronicle his rise and fall. However, as filmmakers rush to capitalize on the scandal, the resulting productions are already proving problematic, raising questions about exploitation, accuracy, and the ethics of profiting from others’ trauma.
A Troubling Timeline Emerges
The Diddy documentary cycle kicked into high gear following Combs’ federal indictment on sexual crimes charges in September 2024. Since then, a staggering number of films have flooded the market, each promising exclusive insights and shocking revelations:
- April 2025: TMZ’s “The Downfall” – a three-part series
- June 2025: Peacock’s “Diddy: The Making of a Bad Boy” – the focus of this analysis
- July 2025: “The Fall” on Max – an upcoming four-part series
- TBA: “Diddy Do It” on Netflix – loudly promoted by rapper 50 Cent, a longtime Combs critic
Problematic Elements in “The Making of a Bad Boy”
The Peacock documentary, which dropped in June, epitomizes many of the issues plaguing this wave of films. Promoted as an explosive exposé, it ultimately feels like a sloppy rush job that exploits the scandal without adding much of substance.
For example, the film lingers on the tragic 1991 City College celebrity basketball game stampede that left nine dead. While the firsthand accounts from survivors like Sonny Williams are undeniably heartbreaking, the tangential event does little to support the central argument that Combs was “a good boy turned bad.” The heavy-handed attempt to tie it to his downfall rings hollow.
The most questionable aspects, however, revolve around the film’s reliance on secondhand gossip and innuendo from marginal players in Combs’ orbit. Former associates like Al B. Sure! are given ample airtime to float outlandish conspiracy theories implicating the mogul in everything from the deaths of Tupac and Biggie to the 2018 passing of his ex, Kim Porter.
“Am I supposed to say allegedly?” Al B. Sure! quips to the camera after insinuating that Porter’s pneumonia death was actually murder.
This sets the stage for the doc’s most shocking claims from anonymous women alleging harrowing sexual abuse by Combs – including a horrific account of one victim who says she was covered in acidic baby oil and violated with a TV remote. While these stories demand serious investigation, the filmmakers’ credibility is undercut by their tabloid approach and lack of corroborating evidence beyond a single lawyer’s assurances.
Childhood Trauma as a Catch-All Excuse
In a strained attempt at pop psychology, “The Making of a Bad Boy” leans heavily on psychoanalyst Carolyn West to trace Combs’ bad behavior to childhood trauma and absent father figures. The film lingers on the 1972 shooting death of his father Melvin, an associate of Harlem kingpin Frank Lucas, when Combs was just a toddler.
While losing a parent so violently at a young age was undoubtedly scarring, the documentary irresponsibly allows West to speculate at length about the lasting damage to Combs’ psyche and draw thin lines from this tragedy to his later alleged criminality. It comes across as a feeble attempt to build sympathy for a man accused of monstrous acts rather than a good-faith examination of the lasting effects of trauma.
Lingering Questions Left Unanswered
Perhaps most frustrating are the significant questions “The Making of a Bad Boy” declines to explore in any depth. How was Combs able to get away with alleged abuses for so long? Who in his circle enabled or covered up this reported behavior? What systems of power and celebrity worship allowed this to go unchecked for decades?
Rather than interrogate the societal structures and industry dynamics that let a wealthy and famous man like Combs operate seemingly above reproach, the documentary wastes time on lurid gossip and offensive amateur psychoanalysis. In doing so, it squanders an opportunity to reckon with our cultural complicity in a corrupt system.
The Dangers of the Feeding Frenzy
As more documentaries crowd onto the scene, all signs point to the Diddy feeding frenzy growing even more intense – and irresponsible. With each project racing to outdo the last with even more salacious revelations, the risk rises of further exploiting and re-traumatizing victims while sensationalizing very serious allegations.
“Combs was not some Marvel character doomed to an unfortunate timeline,” the analysis argues. “He was a man who had all the means at his disposal to work out his daddy issues in therapy. Why should a documentary go out of its way to apologize for him when he could barely be bothered to do that himself?”
Ultimately, the Diddy documentary craze exemplifies a troubling trend in our scandal-hungry culture: the rush to capitalize on celebrity downfalls at the expense of deeper truth-seeking and societal reflection. As filmmakers line up to cash in on Combs’ stunning implosion, they would do well to more closely examine their own complicity in a system that enables such misconduct in the first place.
