Every so often, there will be a cultural event so seismic that you will remember where you were when it happened for years to come. It was a random day in mid-September. I absentmindedly checked a message from a friend, only to be hit with the pop cultural equivalent of a nuclear bomb: Nathan Fielder’s top-secret three-hour Elizabeth Holmes documentary was set to release in the next month. I threw myself into preparing to see the film, ignoring more pressing educational obligations in order to binge previous Fielder projects and documentation of the Holmes case. However, no amount of research could have prepared me for the experience of seeing You Can See Everything, which is one of the most insane films I have ever seen.
Directed by Fielder and collaborator Lance Oppenheim (who also directed the recent film Primetime), You Can See Everything is a documentary following Holmes during the month leading up to her imprisonment: an 11-year sentence for defrauding the investors of her now defunct medical technology company Theranos. The film’s title comes from a text message Holmes sent to Fielder in the lead up to the project, promising that he and his documentary crew “can totally see everything.” This idea comes up repeatedly, since even after moving into Holmes and her partner Evans’ guest bedroom, Fielder still wonders aloud if the couple is hiding something from him. Despite the open invitation he has been given into their life, Fielder is still framed by the camera as an intruder. He voyeuristically lurks around corners and peers through windows, trying to find whatever piece of the puzzle will make his bizarre circumstances finally make sense. Despite being able to “see everything,” he still feels uneasy.
In the film’s now iconic teaser trailer, Fielder asks Holmes, “Are you being real right now?” and she responds, “I’m always being real.” After this exchange, the scene cuts from extreme closeup to a wide shot, reminding the viewer that this bizarre, intimate exchange is all being filmed by a team of people. This exemplifies one of the central themes of the film: the inherent bias of the documentary format. Despite what filmmakers want you to think, it is impossible to make a truly impartial documentary. Even in the most unobtrusive, “fly on the wall” project, the moment someone becomes aware that they’re on camera, their behavior will change. No matter how “real” a documentary is, everyone in it is still performing. Fielder “can” see everything, but that doesn’t mean he will.
This idea is further complicated by the inclusion of Fielder as a subject. This element of the film came about organically in the filming process. The original plan was for Fielder to stay behind the camera and not get involved, but after several instances of Holmes and Evans engaging in conversation with him off camera the film was restructured with this dynamic in mind. Through interacting with Holmes, we see Fielder struggle to break through her walls, dealing in real time with the cognitive dissonance of a woman who insists on her own sincerity while simultaneously having the reputation of a manipulative liar. However, this is something they have in common.
At one point, Fielder jokes about how Holmes’ fraud case is reminiscent of his TV show Nathan For You, a cringe comedy series that follows Fielder as he enacts outlandish and at times dubiously legal schemes to help struggling businesses. He laughs awkwardly, saying that if Holmes had treated Theranos as an elaborate joke, she wouldn’t have gotten in trouble. Fielder is a notoriously inscrutable figure. His comedic work blends fiction and reality to such an extreme degree that it is almost impossible to tell where the character ends and the real man begins. Is he really that awkward and socially inept? Is it all a manipulative ruse to trick the audience and his unsuspecting subjects? Is he an evil mastermind or just some weird, silly guy? These are common debates I see online about Fielder’s work, debates which feel, albeit on a smaller scale, oddly reminiscent of how the media discusses Holmes.
On my first viewing of the film, the audience would laugh uproariously nearly every time Fielder spoke. I did, too. On my second viewing, I found the proceedings a lot more sinister, but the people around me kept laughing. As a comedian known for having a heightened persona, nothing Fielder says will be taken seriously, since he will always be seen through the lens of comedy first. This makes for a fascinating contrast with Holmes. Regardless of how sincere she insists she is being, she will always be seen as deceitful. It is through these similarities that, almost against his will, Fielder forms a bond with Holmes. This is another bias inherent to documentary filmmaking: it is impossible to spend a prolonged amount of time in close proximity with someone without forming an opinion on them. In many cases this opinion is negative, causing the subject to be framed in a more villainous or sinister way. Within the film, Holmes’ partner Evans is framed negatively, with Fielder growing more and more disdainful of his behavior as time goes on. In contrast, Fielder becomes fond of Holmes. In a pivotal moment towards the end of the documentary, someone asks Fielder if he’s purposefully obfuscating events in order to protect Holmes and portray her more sympathetically. He profusely denies this, but the viewer is left to wonder.
You Can See Everything is extremely dense and this review only barely scratches the surface of what can be said about this film. It is a fascinating exploration of truth, performance, gender dynamics, and so much more, with some of the most exciting filmmaking I’ve seen in years. There is a high chance that this film could be the first ever documentary to be nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars this year, which would be groundbreaking not only for the format of documentary, but filmmaking as a whole. You Can See Everything is a turning point in the medium of film, and something that needs to be seen to be believed.