Kenneth Iwamasa, the live-in personal assistant who injected actor Matthew Perry with the dose of ketamine that killed him, was sentenced Wednesday to three years and five months in federal prison, the final chapter in a case that exposed a network of enablers, corrupt physicians, and drug dealers who fed a vulnerable man's addiction until it destroyed him.
Iwamasa's sentencing in Los Angeles federal court closed the books on a sprawling federal investigation that produced convictions against five individuals connected to Perry's death on October 28, 2023. The beloved "Friends" star was 54 years old when he was found dead in his hot tub, his body ravaged by the very substance the people around him kept supplying.
The case is a grim reminder of what happens when the people closest to someone struggling with addiction choose profit and convenience over responsibility. And the words Perry's own family delivered in court made clear just how deep the betrayal ran.
Perry hired Iwamasa in 2022 at a salary of $150,000 per year to live in his home and serve as his personal assistant, the New York Post reported. The job came with one overriding duty, at least in the eyes of Perry's family: keep the actor sober.
Perry's mother, Suzanne Morrison, made that expectation explicit in a statement to the court.
"Kenny's most important job, by far, was to be my son's companion and guardian in his fight against addiction. His number-one responsibility, ensure that Matthew remained what he wanted to be: drug free."
Instead, federal prosecutors said in their sentencing memorandum, Iwamasa became Perry's drug supplier. He obtained ketamine from multiple sources, purchased more than $55,000 worth of the drug in the month before Perry's death, and administered it by injection, despite having no medical training whatsoever.
In Perry's final days, Iwamasa was injecting him six to eight times daily, Fox News reported. He found Perry unconscious on multiple occasions that month. He kept injecting him anyway.
The courtroom statements from Perry's family were direct and unsparing. Perry's sister, Madeline Morrison, described the moment she learned the full truth about Iwamasa's role.
"In many ways, it felt like my brother died all over again. Everything I believed about the day he died, everything Kenny told us, was a lie."
Suzanne Morrison was equally blunt: "We trusted a man without a conscience, and my son paid the price."
Perry's stepfather, journalist Keith Morrison, addressed Iwamasa directly from the gallery. "You did the injections. You could have made the phone call. But you didn't. Because you were living a dandy life," Newsmax reported.
Lisa Ferguson, Perry's business manager and estate executor, dispensed with any remaining pretense of civility. "What you are is the monster that killed him," she told Iwamasa.
Judge Sherilyn Peace Garnett, who imposed the sentence, did not soften the assessment. "Your conduct was reckless, not just on the day of his death but in the days leading up to his death," the judge said, AP News reported.
Iwamasa pleaded guilty in August to conspiracy to distribute ketamine resulting in death or serious bodily injury. He was the first of the five defendants to reach a plea deal and became the prosecution's most important witness, helping investigators build the broader case against the network that supplied Perry.
Federal prosecutors laid out the core of their argument in a sentencing memorandum, portions of which were reported by Breitbart.
"When defendant Kenneth Iwamasa was hired as Matthew Perry's live-in personal assistant, he was acutely aware that Mr. Perry had suffered from drug addiction for most of his life. But rather than help Mr. Perry maintain sobriety, defendant became his enabler and drug supplier. As defendant injected more and more ketamine into Mr. Perry, he saw, and was the only person to see, clear warning signs that Mr. Perry was in danger."
Iwamasa was the last person to see Perry alive and the first to find him dead in his Jacuzzi. He initially lied to police about the circumstances before eventually cooperating with the federal investigation.
His defense attorneys argued that Iwamasa lacked the capacity to refuse Perry's demands. "In short, he could not 'simply say no.' That inability had tragic consequences," his lawyers said.
That argument did not persuade the judge, the family, or, apparently, the prosecutors who had already given Iwamasa the benefit of his cooperation.
Iwamasa's sentencing was the last in a series of cases that traced the ketamine supply chain from street-level dealers to licensed physicians. The sentences varied widely, reflecting each defendant's role in the scheme.
Drug dealer Jasveen Sangha, known as "the Ketamine Queen," received the harshest punishment: 15 years in federal prison, imposed in April. Sangha provided ketamine to Erik Fleming, a licensed drug addiction counselor who then sold it to Iwamasa. Fleming was sentenced earlier this month to two years in prison.
Two physicians also faced consequences. Dr. Salvador Plasencia was sentenced in December to 30 months in prison for providing ketamine to Perry. Dr. Mark Chavez received three years of supervised release, no prison time, for his role in the supply chain.
The disparity in those sentences tells its own story. A drug dealer with no medical license got 15 years. A licensed addiction counselor got two. A doctor who provided the drugs got supervised release. And the man who physically pushed the needle into Perry's arm, day after day, got 41 months.
The autopsy determined Perry's death was caused by "the acute effects of ketamine," with contributing factors including drowning, coronary artery disease, and the effects of buprenorphine, an opioid.
Perry's death drew national attention not just because of his fame but because it illustrated how easily people with addiction can be exploited by the very individuals entrusted to help them. A personal assistant. An addiction counselor. Two doctors. A drug dealer. Each played a role. Each had a chance to stop it.
None did.
The case also raises uncomfortable questions about the growing off-label use of ketamine, a powerful anesthetic increasingly marketed as a treatment for depression and other conditions. When celebrities face legal consequences, the public pays attention. But the pipeline of drugs flowing to vulnerable people, sometimes through licensed professionals, operates far beyond Hollywood.
Iwamasa's cooperation helped prosecutors build the broader case. Whether 41 months adequately accounts for injecting a man six to eight times a day with a drug that was visibly destroying him is a question the judge answered but Perry's family clearly did not find satisfying.
The legal system has its own math. Cooperation earns credit. Plea deals shorten sentences. The machinery works as designed, even when the human cost makes the output feel inadequate.
Perry struggled publicly with addiction for decades. He wrote about it. He spoke about it. He asked for help. The people around him, the ones paid to protect him, treat him, and keep him safe, chose instead to feed the very thing that was killing him. When substance abuse intersects with celebrity, the consequences often play out in public. Perry's case played out in a morgue and then a federal courtroom.
Iwamasa will serve his time. The others will serve theirs, or in Dr. Chavez's case, report to a probation officer. The legal chapter is closed.
But the facts of this case, $55,000 in ketamine purchased in a single month, six to eight injections a day, an assistant who found his employer unconscious and kept injecting him, describe something beyond negligence. They describe a system of people who saw a man drowning and handed him an anchor.
Perry's family called it betrayal. The judge called it reckless. Federal prosecutors called Iwamasa an enabler and supplier. His own lawyers said he couldn't say no.
Forty-one months in prison. That's the price tag the federal system put on a life spent enabling a man's destruction from inside his own home. Whether that price is right is a question the system doesn't ask, and Perry's family will never stop answering.
