Minutes later, the 47-year-old was a quadriplegic, paralysed from the neck down.

Precisely what police did to cause his injury that November day two years ago has been blurred in a sea of pain and terror.

But Chris remembers some details clearly.

They include the feeling of being wrapped in a headlock while handcuffed and being dragged along his lawn. He recalls hearing the sound of a loud click. And he remembers struggling to draw breath as he realised that the click was the sound of his own neck breaking.

''It just went limp. It's a weird feeling,'' he told The Age and 60 Minutes as part of a major investigation into Victoria's broken police oversight system.

''Everything just got disconnected and that's it. From then on I haven't felt anything.''

It wasn't until the next day that the Karadaglis family, huddled together at the Austin Hospital, learnt the extent of Chris' injuries. They were told he would never walk or use his arms again.

The catastrophic injury was not just the start of unimaginable changes to his life and that of his family but was also the beginning of a complex battle to seek an overhaul of the police complaints system and get justice for Chris.

While the circumstances of his arrest are now being probed by Victoria's Independent Broad-based Anti-corruption Commission, the limitations on the public sector watchdog's powers are again being highlighted.

IBAC, along with Victoria's community legal sector and, in 2018, a joint parliamentary committee, have demanded the Labor Government give the commission the powers and resources to investigate more cases of police misconduct and do so more effectively.

The commission's lack of powers means that, too often, police are left policing themselves, perpetuating a culture of self-regulation at the heart of many of the scandals enveloping the force today.

Chris' sister Alex experienced this culture first hand while she was waiting at the hospital to learn about her brother's quadriplegia.

A policeman from Warrnambool called her and explained that the three officers who had arrested Chris had done nothing wrong.

''Their stories are consistent,'' he told her, a claim that was false, according to policing officials with knowledge of the case.

A short time later, a more senior officer from the same South West Victoria region as the three arresting officers called to explain that he would be assessing the circumstances of the arrest.

''I was staggered that something so serious initially could be swept under the rug and then assigned to an officer who worked with the three police who arrested Chris,'' says Alex Karadaglis.

Believing the police used excessive force and fearing a cover-up, Alex lodged a formal complaint with the force's internal affairs unit, Professional Standards Command (PSC).

Sometime after this, IBAC launched its own investigation. The fact that Chris's case is now subject to independent oversight means it is an anomaly.

Law enforcement sources, speaking on the condition of anonymity, have confirmed that Alex's suspicions of a cover-up were well founded.

The sources say there was an initial effort to keep the investigation local and in-house. Had Alex not complained, and Chris's injuries not been so severe, it might have succeeded.

Only 10 per cent of police complaints are judged serious enough to end up at standards command's city headquarters and be scrutinised by internal affairs investigators, while just 2 per cent of complaints made about police end up under IBAC's watch.

Premier Daniel Andrews has for years ignored calls to plug gaping holes in IBAC's powers, resources and mandate which means it can't investigate police as extensively and thoroughly as it should.

As it stands, both PSC and IBAC are poorly resourced and struggle to find and retain top investigators.

Despite these problems, both bodies are led by commissioners who are respected for their commitment to deal openly with the dark corners of the force.

PSC Assistant Commissioner Russell Barrett has started suspending officers as soon as a serious and credible complaint is made - he has suspended his own friends from the force.

His uncompromising attitude has helped restore credibility to standards command after the disastrous reign of his disgraced predecessor, Brett Guerin, who was exposed using an online alias to post vile racist comments.

Barrett also acknowledges a key cultural problem identified by IBAC's Commissioner Robert Redlich: the desire of some police to cover up for colleagues.

Barrett told The Age that while he can't talk about the specifics of the ongoing investigation into Chris's arrest, he immediately concedes what in the past may have been shrouded in police speak: no innocent Victorian should be so seriously injured after an interaction with police.

Barrett describes Chris's interaction with the three uniformed officers as a ''life-changing experience, devastating for the family of that individual.''

Chris's own recollection, captured in an interview with police in hospital a few weeks after the arrest, tells some of the story of what happened. He was drinking, suffering mental health issues and blaring music from his stereo when police first knocked on his door.

After initially complying with the three officers' request to turn the noise down, he pumped up the volume as the police returned to their car.

It was a childish move and one Chris says may have provoked the officers who returned to his door.

Chris recalls being compliant in anticipation of his arrest when he was handcuffed. But he says he somehow suddenly ended up in a headlock and was brought to the ground. Chris also has a memory of intense pressure being applied to his back and then hearing the loud click of his neck breaking.

He says he then begged the officers for help and an ambulance was called.

Chris, his sister Alex and lawyer Jeremy King of Robinson Gill - which has become a leading Victorian police litigation firm - say that at the very least, the negligent use of force contributed to the injury. At its worst, it was blatant police brutality.

Proceedings haven't been issued, but they expect to do so shortly. They will seek damages in the Supreme Court.

''It just blows my mind. How does he end up in a wheelchair for the rest of his life after having an interaction with police?'' says Mr King.

If it is possible to have a silver lining in a case where a noise complaint has left a man paralysed, it is that Chris and his sister Alex have become much closer than they were before he was injured.

Chris, an intelligent man plagued by mental illness and who once served a stint in jail for assault, was living in government housing in Warrnambool when the noise complaint was lodged. He'd withdrawn into depression, lost his job in a medical technology firm and wasn't speaking to Alex.

Now, Alex is at his side most days, helping him to eat and use his wheelchair.

There are days - plenty of them - when Chris apologises to her for being a burden.

''As far as my sister's concerned, she's been handed back a brother with a broken neck and been told: 'look after this'.''

Alex responds to this with tears in her eyes.

''You're not, mate, we're here, this is what we do,'' she tells him.

''You don't have a second thought about it. It's your family.''

Alex's initial interaction with police - their insistence the arrest was above board - has sullied her expectation her brother will find justice, as has the failure of police to apologise.

''Another human being snapped his neck. Like, why would you do that? And if you did and it was a mistake, you own up and you go, 'I am so sorry. I'm so sorry for doing that','' she says.

Alex hopes Chris story might be the one that finally gets Andrews to fix the broken police oversight system.

Chris is less optimistic. He doesn't want to be a poster boy for change.

His victories are small. In the hospital ward, he regained the use of some of his fingers on one of his hands. The nurses cheered.

And Chris smiled for the first time in a long time.

See more of Chris's story in 60 Minutes, on Channel Nine on Sunday night.

The Age