Anwar Congo is an older man: dark skinned, grey haired, slight, but fit. He smiles easily. Asked to explain how he forgets his troubles, he is forthright: “Good music, dancing…a little alcohol…a little marijuana…a little—” he struggles to find the word he wants. “—Ecstasy.” In any other documentary, Anwar would be a charmer. But in this one, he is not. The troubles he must forget are his nightmares. And he has those nightmares because he killed over 1,000 people.
