Cliff Dorfman, an accomplished Hollywood screenwriter known for his work on acclaimed projects like “Warrior” and “Entourage,” has delved into the complexities of his own life experiences in a bid to better understand his origins. His latest endeavour, a debut novel titled “Crime Family,” draws inspiration from his adoption story and the controversial research conducted by psychiatrist Dr. Peter Neubauer, who famously separated twins and triplets for a social experiment on nature versus nurture.
:max_bytes(150000):strip_icc():format(jpeg)/Cliff-Dorfman-Controversial-Child-Study-83ada8c9d131458fbea12f91e7507785.jpg)
The 58-year-old writer, who has poignantly shared his adoption journey, reveals that much of what he learned about his biological family took him by surprise. His quest for self-discovery intensified after watching the 2018 documentary “Three Identical Strangers,” which chronicles the lives of three identical triplet brothers unknowingly separated at birth. Their adoption was managed by Louise Wise Services, the very agency that placed Dorfman with his adoptive family in the 1960s.


Neubauer’s experiments, which took place during the 1960s and 70s, have been the subject of scrutiny and ethical questions over the years. They involved analysing children who had been raised in different family environments, but the findings went unpublished, with records remaining sealed at Yale University until 2065. This clandestine research has received renewed attention through various media outlets, including books and documentaries, driven by a growing public interest in the ethical implications of such studies.
Dorfman’s experiences thrust him into this narrative, prompting him to investigate whether he had unknowingly participated in Neubauer’s study. He asserts that he was informed by a representative of the Jewish Board of Family and Children’s Services—overseeing the study’s records—during a 2018 phone call, which was corroborated by his ex-wife, Dru Mouser. He claims he was identified as “the only single unwilling participant” in the controversial research, casting a shadow over his understanding of his childhood and origins.
However, the Jewish Board has firmly contested Dorfman’s account, stating that they never confirmed his involvement in the study, especially as his information does not appear in the sealed Yale records. Yet, another participant in the study has suggested that some adopted children were used as control subjects, adding another layer of complexity to this already convoluted situation.
Upon revisiting his past, Dorfman recalled taking the Wechsler Intelligence Scale for Children test during his school years, where he believes Neubauer may have been present. While he does not remember specifics, he retains a hazy recollection of the psychiatrist referring to himself as “PB,” which corresponds to Neubauer’s names.
Despite the denials from the Jewish Board, Dorfman persists in his inquiry into his origins, grappling with the emotional implications of his understanding of his family history. He acknowledges feelings of sadness upon learning that he did not have a twin or sibling with whom he could share his experiences. Such revelations have led him to contemplate deeper questions about identity and belonging, themes that resonate throughout “Crime Family.”
Interestingly, Dorfman’s search for understanding has also involved reconnections with his biological mother, Jan Weiss. Their first communication occurred in the early 1990s when she reached out to him. Later, when he turned 40, they finally met face-to-face. However, he describes their interactions as lacking a meaningful connection, shaped largely by the painful circumstances surrounding his adoption.
His difficult upbringing within his adoptive family has informed many of the themes explored in his novel. Dorfman asserts that much of “Crime Family” mirrors the turbulent dynamics he faced, where familial relationships were often fraught with complexity.
Reflecting on his journey as a whole, Dorfman expresses a desire to seek answers about his past while balancing an acceptance of uncertainty. He has considered pursuing access to the sealed records held by Yale but remains realistic about the likelihood of uncovering every aspect of his past. “I’ve learned to live with the uncertainty while remaining open to learning more if the opportunity presents itself,” he admits.
Thus, through his artistic expression and narrative exploration in “Crime Family,” Cliff Dorfman not only invites readers into a personal journey of discovery but also sheds light on broader questions of identity, heritage, and the often fraught nature of family connections.
