Everyone talks about the “coffee lady” that was on her phone and the drivers who were parked outside but there’s been no mention or video regarding this person standing in the corner of the Hilton Hotel while the assailant walks by.
A fair trial is a fundamental right—not a privilege. Every person deserves an impartial court, due process, and a meaningful opportunity to defend themselves. The justice system must stand firm against corruption and abuse of governmental power. When these principles are threatened, standing up for them matters not only for the individual defendant, but for the integrity of the justice system itself.
Supporting Luigi's defense means standing up for the principle that the rule of law must apply to everyone.
Please consider donating just 5$ and helping ensure that the right to a fair trial is protected. #five4fairness
Donate to Luigi’s Defense Fund:
www.GiveSendGo.com/Luigi-Defense-Fund
Post credit goes to: u/dontputinmouth_990
A documentary director who set out to explore the lives of Chinese and American teens revisits unreleased footage of the murder suspect when he was 16.
“Do you remember Luigi?”
Filmmaker Wang Yang was sitting in a café in Xi’an, capital of China’s northwestern Shaanxi province, when his friend suddenly slid her phone across the table. On the screen was the mugshot of a young man.
“It’s the boy who showed you around his school’s robotics lab,” she says, referring to a trip Wang made to the United States in 2014 to film a documentary.
The mugshot was of Luigi Mangione, the prime suspect in the murder of Brian Robert Thompson, CEO of the health insurance company UnitedHealthcare, in New York City on Dec. 4, 2024.
Wang froze. Of course he remembered Mangione. He was among several 16-year-old boys he had filmed at Gilman School, a private institution in Baltimore, Maryland, as part of “Youth Dream,” an unfinished project exploring the educational experiences of students from China and the U.S.
Mangione, 28, is now being held at a federal prison in New York awaiting trial for second-degree murder. He was arrested in a McDonald’s restaurant in Altoona, Pennsylvania, five days after the shooting. Police say that he was carrying a 3D-printed handgun, a silencer, a fake ID, and a three-page handwritten manifesto that contained the line, “These parasites simply had it coming.”
Although Mangione had been only a peripheral character in Wang’s documentary, the 41-year-old filmmaker remembered his strong presence on campus and on screen, prompting him to revisit the footage from the school as soon as he returned home from the café.
Here, Wang shares his recollections of Mangione, “Youth Dream,” and the brief intersection he fostered in the lives of boys from different worlds.
Like a Ghost
When I met Luigi in 2014, I was documenting the lives of two boys from very different backgrounds: One was a Chinese-American boy, James, the son of the friend whom I met with at the café; the other was Maisheng, a 16-year-old from the mountains of Huining County, in China’s northwestern Gansu province.
I was staying with James’ family in Baltimore while I worked on the documentary. Each day, I followed him and his classmates to school to capture their daily lives.
It was only when I rewatched the old footage that I realized Luigi was a constant, silent presence in the frame — almost like a ghost. He seemed to be everywhere: in the lab, on the robotics team, in the cafeteria, always lingering in the periphery of my shots. James and Luigi had been inseparable back then.
In one shot, a lanky Luigi in typical prep school attire — dress shirt, tie, and dark gray top — leans over a workbench, his gaze fixed on a half-assembled robotic car as he adjusts a metal component. Later, speaking to the camera, he explains his algorithms with clear, untroubled eyes.
When I learned that Luigi had allegedly used a 3D printer to make a gun and silencer, chills ran down my spine. Had that same quiet focus and concentration become the tools for a meticulously planned assassination?
Looking back, I feel there was a measured distance in the way Luigi interacted with others. The robotics course was open-ended: the teacher mostly stood to the side answering questions, while students split into groups to program and assemble robots. In the footage, Luigi gives an impression of maturity — when some classmates start fooling around, he stands and offers a few words of guidance to steer them back on track.
He didn’t push himself into the center of the frame or appear to deliberately seek attention, but if you spent time in that classroom, you could sense he had influence. In his robotics class, he was a leader. He spoke softly, but with an authority that seemed to come from some kind of certainty.
Of course, that had to do with his wealthy, privileged upbringing. Luigi’s family owned a prominent real estate portfolio, including two Maryland country clubs. I later learned that he had graduated as the class valedictorian.
But he wasn’t the main subject of my film, so I never focused on him specifically. Did I notice anything unusual about him? No, I really didn’t. He appeared to be an ordinary teenager, albeit exceptionally composed and talented.
School Swap
The idea for “Youth Dream” came from a feature-length documentary I made in 2010, “China Gate,” which followed students at Huining No. 1 High School in Gansu. In this rural county, education is not for personal interest or self-fulfillment — it is a way out of poverty.
After the film screened at international festivals, I received an email from James, who said he’d been moved by the stories of these teenagers on the other side of the world. He was keen to learn more and even expressed a wish to work as a volunteer teacher in Huining.
I realized that if U.S. students really did come to Huining, it would be an incredible filming opportunity, offering a new angle to what I’d captured in “China Gate.” With that project, I understood perfectly why those kids pushed themselves so hard, because I came out of that system.
Eventually, James and two of his classmates from Gilman School made the trip in July 2014, and I picked them up at the airport. James impressed me as a simple, good-natured youth who always said what was on his mind in a thoughtful, well-mannered way.
During their two-week stay in Huining, the trio woke at 5 a.m. to join the Chinese high school students for morning exercises. They were stunned to see all the kids carrying their English and Chinese textbooks onto the sports field to keep studying — learning had never looked like this to them.
The pace of classes, dormitory life, being constantly swamped with questions — I could see that the American teenagers were uncomfortable, but they made a genuine effort to adapt.
However, I increasingly felt that the story wasn’t complete this way. Was there also a way to have a Huining student go to the U.S.?
Maisheng was not the type of student to bury himself in test papers and recite school slogans, but he was open with his emotions and vulnerabilities. For a documentary, this is essential. He also exemplified the survival logic of all young people in Huining, believing that “knowledge can change your fate.”
We secured Maisheng a U.S. visa, but as he prepared to leave, he grew extremely nervous. He had never flown on an airplane or even ridden a high-speed train. I reassured him that the people in Baltimore were waiting to take care of him.
Gilman School is a typical American private school. I remember its red brick buildings nestled among green trees, with lawns trimmed as neatly as a golf course. Inside its walls were professional athletics coaches, Latin classes, robotics labs — stepping stones to Ivy League universities. Outside were the city’s notorious drug problems and slums.
Classes ended at 3 p.m., with a lot of time devoted to sports. While auditing a math class, Maisheng was shocked to see nearly every student had a calculator. That was a no-no in his own school, where problems had to be worked out on paper and he would still score A-plus.
At the start of his monthlong visit, Maisheng felt that American education was easy — but he soon changed his mind. For example, James had grueling fencing classes each day on top of heavy course assignments.
I also took our Chinese student to public schools in the local area, where he witnessed chaos and poverty. Toward the end of our filming trip, we visited Washington, D.C., where he practiced tai chi at the foot of Capitol Hill.
Friends Reunited
After reading more about the allegations against Luigi and rewatching my footage, I began to reflect on elite education in the U.S.
In Huining, students were fighting for survival. At Gilman, the students were fighting for excellence — and Luigi was a standout. Perhaps the education he received in essence made him a more efficient and elegant predator.
Maisheng achieved good grades and attended a maritime college in northern China before settling in Lanzhou, the Gansu capital, to work in sales. I’ve thought about asking him what impact his U.S. experience had on him, but somehow could never bring myself to do it.
James’ life has followed a more standard elite trajectory. He went on to graduate school at the prestigious Massachusetts Institute of Technology and now works in quantitative trading.
His parents were highly accomplished forensic pathologists in China before immigrating to the U.S., where they had to redo medical school and adapt to a completely new social environment. Many immigrant families are like this — the older generations shatter their lives and rebuild them from scratch so that the next generation can move forward.
When I was filming in 2014, James’ father had not yet obtained his full U.S. medical license, but the family had found its footing, and when I saw them again this year I could sense that they had climbed the class ladder. They had bought a new home and settled into a stable life.
When I met up with James in Xi’an in February, we discussed many things: his work, artificial intelligence, his parents’ health, and how the Chinese city has changed. When the conversation turned to Luigi, I could feel him wanting to avoid the subject. He had seen Luigi several times after university, the last time being in early 2023. During that meeting, James recalled sensing something different about his old friend — he seemed angrier. He wouldn’t elaborate further.
After the 2024 shooting, many media outlets tracked James down to seek an interview, but he refused. I can understand why. There are many questions that even those closest to a person can’t necessarily answer.
Seeking Answers
Looking back, I feel that “Youth Dream” was not merely a comparison between different education systems, but what became of these three intersecting lives.
In conventional terms, James looks to be the model of success: a stable income, moving along a clear path. But what if someone follows a path and accomplishes everything they are supposed to — then what? A path can provide security, order, and a dependable future, but is that enough to answer all of a person’s questions about life? Success can solve practical problems, but it may not solve existential ones.
What concerns me is not who climbed higher or who came closest to the “correct answer,” but whether these young men grew into complete human beings, finding peace with themselves and the world.
While filming “Youth Dream,” I had a disagreement with a producer over the direction of the project. He asked me, “Do you still believe documentaries can change society?” I said I did. But now I understand more clearly that believing doesn’t mean you should expect immediate results. It can take many years to see a shift in how people think or see the world — and that change can be very subtle.
When I revisit that footage from the U.S., I feel as though those vivacious young men are standing before me once again — boys who genuinely loved this world and once longed for a better future.
Please use this post as an update thread for live discussions of LM's hearing today!
Judge Gregory Carro is set to rule on press capacity and permissions, as well as overflow room provisions for the New York State trial. Other pre-trial issues such as jury selection and scheduling are also expected to be discussed. This is presumably LM’s last court date before voir dire begins on September 8, 2026.
LM is facing 8 charges after the terrorism charge and a firearms charge were dropped.
LM will be wearing civilian clothing, and the hearing will be photographed. He is expected to skip the public walk down the hallway.
Live Updates:
Other Links:
AMA with a supporter who attended the suppression hearings and the June 17 hearing
Source: #SixthTone
I have a sneaky feeling that the law will be broken on Monday, and it would be great to have a record of what happens.
This “X” post is from LA Magazine’s Lauren Conlin and the other document is from NY State Court’s Public I formation Page.
Great article by Lauren Colin. This really sums up the feud regarding press access for the NY State trial.
I suppose it’s not actually a conflict of interest but it’s still a bit sketchy and too close to that Gotham City Perp Walk !
Based on a 2018 interview from the People Who Read People podcast. Dr. Christina Marinakis has 17+ years in jury research and law, and holds degrees in bioscience psychology, clinical psychology, a doctorate in psychology, and a law degree. She served as a consultant for the prosecution in the Derek Chauvin trial.
Q: Isn't it called "jury selection"?
A: Technically, it's jury de-selection. You're not picking who you want — you're eliminating who you don't want. There are three ways a juror can be removed: hardship (the judge decides), peremptory strikes (each side gets a limited number, no reason required), and cause challenges (unlimited — but you have to get the juror to admit they can't be fair).
Q: How many peremptory strikes does each side get?
A: It varies by jurisdiction. In civil and state cases, typically 3–6 per side. In criminal cases, it can go up to 20 per side. The number is always balanced, and the sides alternate using them.
Q: How big is the initial jury pool?
A: Anywhere from 50 to 200 people, depending on trial length, how many jurors are needed, and how sensitive the case is. A high-profile case loses more jurors for cause because more people have already formed opinions going in.
Q: How does the questioning process actually work?
A: It varies by state. In northeastern states like NY, NJ, PA, and MA, jurors are questioned individually, which can take days or even weeks. In states like Texas, attorneys address the whole group at once and follow up with individuals who respond. Attorneys always know the order jurors are in and focus their attention on the first group likely to be seated.
Q: Is there real strategy involved, like a game?
A: It's been described as "speed chess." Every time you strike someone, a new juror moves into their seat — and you have to think about whether that replacement is better or worse, and what the other side will do next. You can also "pass" to save strikes, but if both sides pass, you're locked into that jury. Bluffing is very much part of it, and decisions during the actual striking process can happen within a minute.
Q: What are the three types of juror removal and who controls each one?
A: Hardship excusals are controlled by the judge. Peremptory strikes are controlled by the attorneys — no reason needed, but limited in number. Cause challenges are unlimited but require the juror to admit they can't be fair. That last category is where most of the psychological maneuvering happens, because getting a juror off for cause doesn't cost you a strike.
Q: How much does jury composition actually affect the verdict?
A: Sometimes more than the facts of the case. In mock trials involving up to 60 people hearing identical evidence and arguments, the group never reaches a unanimous verdict — not once. People filter the same facts through completely different personal lenses shaped by their experiences and prior beliefs. You can't always change the evidence, but you can change who's interpreting it.
Q: What behavioral cues do consultants watch for during voir dire?
A: Two main things. First, how jurors answer — tone, facial expressions, body language, signs of lingering pain around a topic. Second, group dynamics — identifying who will be a leader, a follower, a consensus builder, or a contrarian in the deliberation room. Consultants also watch how jurors interact with each other in hallways and during breaks, since that often predicts how they'll behave once deliberations start.
Q: What's a "contrarian" and why would you sometimes want one on the jury?
A: A contrarian is someone who always challenges the group, plays devil's advocate, and won't just go along with the majority. In a murder case where the evidence was heavily stacked against the defense, consultants deliberately kept a well-dressed banker on the jury who had been challenging everything during the process — the bailiff, other jurors, even the judge. The prosecution assumed someone like him would favor them. He ended up being the one who argued for acquittal, and the client was found not guilty.
Q: What's the "passing" system and how is it used strategically?
A: Either side can "pass" instead of using a strike, which can be a bluff — signaling you're satisfied with the panel to make the other side think you must strike someone next. If both sides pass, the jury is locked in, so passing carries real risk. The side with more strikes remaining going into this phase has a meaningful advantage.
Q: Don't jurors sometimes lie to get off jury duty?
A: Some do, but the bigger issue is implicit bias. Most people genuinely believe they can be fair — they're not lying when they say so. But they have unconscious biases that will still influence how they interpret evidence. The consultant's job is to surface those biases, often through emotional framing and carefully structured questions, until the juror recognizes they actually can't be impartial.
Q: What is "throwing your mini opening" and why does it work?
A: It's a counterintuitive strategy where the defense deliberately highlights the worst facts about their own client during voir dire instead of their strongest points. This draws out the most biased jurors — who expose themselves by essentially saying they've already made up their minds — and they get removed for cause. The jurors left are those who heard the worst and still kept an open mind. In one case using this approach, 27 jurors were removed for cause. The other side had no cause challenges and didn't know who to target with their peremptory strikes. The case settled before trial.
Q: Is researching jurors on social media legal?
A: Currently, no laws prohibit it. However, there are ethics rules around contact. If you view someone's LinkedIn profile while logged in and they get a notification you saw their page, that can be considered unauthorized contact in some jurisdictions — even with no message sent. Everything researched must be from public records only: property deeds, vehicle registrations, bankruptcy history, criminal records.
(Please see pinned comment by u/WhereIsTheSemicolon for more context)
Q: What verbal and physical techniques are used to get jurors to open up?
A: Several. Raising your own hand while asking a group question signals it's socially acceptable to admit a bias. Nodding subtly while a juror speaks encourages them to keep going. Asking "how many of you feel..." rather than "does anyone feel..." implies the opinion is common rather than fringe. Strategic silence after a question prompts people to fill the gap with more information. And once one or two jurors start opening up, others follow — consultants use that momentum deliberately.
Q: What role do written questionnaires play?
A: Consultants almost always recommend them because people are more candid in writing than in open court in front of strangers. They're especially important for sensitive topics like abuse history, where asking publicly puts everyone in a difficult position. Some judges resist them, so consultants often have to advocate case by case for their use.
Q: What's a "shadow juror" and what are they actually used for?
A: A shadow juror (sometimes called a mirror juror) is someone recruited to sit in the courtroom audience during trial, mirroring a real juror's profile as closely as possible. They're interviewed at the end of each day — not to predict exactly what the jury will do, but to get qualitative feedback on what's confusing, compelling, or damaging in the presentation. It's a diagnostic tool, not a prediction machine.
Q: What are the ethical limits on coaching witnesses?
A: Attorneys cannot tell a witness to lie, and cannot ask questions they know will produce a lie. What is allowed is coaching how to communicate truthfully: maintaining eye contact, keeping answers short and direct, avoiding nervous habits that could be misread as dishonesty. If the consultant doesn't hold a law degree, an attorney must be present for the session to keep it covered by attorney-client privilege.
Q: How accurate is a consultant's read of a juror?
A: (Marinakis tracks her own numbers and estimates she correctly identifies whether a juror leans plaintiff or defense about 10 out of 12 times, and predicts leader vs. follower roles at a similar rate. She notes there are usually one or two surprises per case regardless.)
Q: Is the financial playing field between prosecution/plaintiff and defense as uneven as people assume?
A: Not always. Corporate defendants are often covered by insurance companies with strict budget caps. Plaintiff attorneys frequently work on contingency and have large reserves from previous verdicts, sometimes enabling them to outspend the defense significantly. In criminal cases, indigent defendants facing capital charges are entitled to public funds that can cover a jury consultant.
This is a rather dry video but it explains the Extreme Emotional Disturbance (EED) defense in relation to Luigi’s case. It also answers several other questions that many of us have.