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| Image courtesy of A24. |
We live in an age of unreality in which the nature of truth is being assaulted or called in to question at any given moment, whether it's by the president of the United States or the cultural infiltration of social media, AI, reality TV, or online misinformation campaigns. Nathan Fielder and Lance Oppenheim tap into this in an engrossing and spellbinding way with their brilliant "You Can See Everything," which starts as a documentary that examines the difference between truth and performance before it becomes something else altogether.
The film follows the story of Elizabeth Holmes, the disgraced founder of Theranos who is serving 11 years in prison for defrauding investors and the public. The story has already been covered in the Hulu program "The Dropout" starring Amanda Seyfried, but Fielder and Oppenheim's film takes a wildly original take on the material.
Holmes' startup, which drew her international attention, claimed that it would disrupt the health lab industry by providing a self-test device that operated on a drop of blood. But as investors and investigative journalists began to hover, Holmes was ultimately found guilty of accepting hundreds of millions of dollars on a product that she was unable to deliver.
In "You Can See Everything," Fielder interviews her and her husband, Billy Evans, before eventually agreeing to move in with them and film them night and day. The film's first half takes place up to the date when Holmes is to report for prison. Its second half becomes part meta examination of the quest for truth - in which Seyfried, playing herself, becomes involved and reenacts scenes as Holmes since the subject herself is in prison - and a shocking series of interviews with Evans, in which he lays out all manner of revelations. I often found myself wondering why Holmes and Evans allowed themselves to be filmed while having these conversations.
At times, the picture feels like a tense heist film, especially during one sequence (which is reenacted with Seyfried) when Fielder visits Holmes in prison, knowing that Evans will show up momentarily, or a thriller (being alone with Evans clearly makes Fielder increasingly uncomfortable). And there are other moments when Fielder's deadpan approach yields hilarious results - most notably, his response when one of his subjects claims he "knows what he's thinking" and another when he learns that Holmes' father once worked for Enron.
There's a fascinating sequence during which Fielder shows Holmes and Evans a clip of the famous Abbott and Costello "Who's on First" gag, and then compares Holmes' manner of describing the charges on which she was convicted. There's a disconnect between what she thinks she tells people and what is actually being communicated - is her kingdom really not of this world or is she playing semantics games? The film circles back on this in a fascinating way toward the end during a conversation between Fielder and Seyfried.
It's difficult to discuss the film's second half without giving away too much, but suffice it to say that Fielder and Seyfried, who becomes a sidekick during the interviews with Evans, increasingly begin to question whether Holmes and Evans are cooking up a second phase for Theranos, despite Holmes being in prison, and then whether Evans himself is manipulating or controlling Holmes.
There is also a valid question by the film's end about the dangers of becoming too emotionally invested in one's documentary subject. Although Fielder presses Holmes with hard questions, there is a rapport between the two of them and it's not difficult to see why he might feel sympathy for her. Is it possible that she is a naive person who didn't understand how what she did could be conceived of as fraudulent - or is she a master manipulator? The film raises more questions than it is able to answer, which is what makes it so compelling, and Fielder includes some moments at the end - a shot of two people swimming in the ocean and a fireside chat with Seyfried - that only deepen the mystery.
It is, perhaps, impossible to do justice in writing to describe what "You Can See Everything" is about and how effective it is. It is a documentary, sort of, but also an examination of how challenging it is to tell the difference between the truth and performance in this day and age. There are moments that are jaw-dropping and unsettling and others that are absurdly funny.
Fielder and Oppenheim likely consider themselves lucky to have captured such a goldmine of material on film, but what makes "You Can See Everything" so special is that it knows exactly what to do with this material, which questions to pose, what to (possibly) manipulate to make it even more intriguing, and what to leave ambiguous. This is one of the year's best films - and certainly its most unique.


