I first encountered the iconic Nathan Fielder through his eponymous series “Nathan for You,” in which he attempts to create new and unorthodox methods of monetization for struggling businesses. Among many other humorous business endeavors that Fielder treats with utmost seriousness, he attempts, for example, to bring Santa to summer, to creatively reintroduce smoking to a bar via parody law, and to create a child-friendly, soundproof box to attract sex-seeking parents to a hotel. That show became my gateway into his equally funny “The Rehearsal,” which has found success in unexpected ways: the show has helped pass the John A. Hauser Mental Health in Aviation Act and the Aviation Medication Transparency Act. So when I saw that Fielder and Lance Oppenheim, the director of the recently released “Primetime,” were releasing a documentary, I knew I had to watch it.
In my excitement, I quickly reserved a seat at AMC Marple 10 for the day after I returned from Fall Break. To put my many thoughts somewhat succinctly, the documentary is at once entirely overwhelming, an exercise in questioning integrity, and, in my opinion, something that warrants endless discussion. Here’s my take.
The title of the documentary, “You Can See Everything,” appears relevant rather quickly. In a titular moment early on, Holmes texts Fielder, “FYI you can totally see everything.” The cinematography speaks for itself. The film uses close-up shots such that the viewers can see the individual pores and wrinkles of whoever’s face fills the screen, which I found especially appealing.
The close-up approach is not just reserved for the subject of the film, Elizabeth Holmes, founder of the blood-testing company Theranos, who has since been convicted of fraud. Instead, the cameras scrutinized every prominent figure in the film. By treating all its subjects with radical transparency and not singling out one person, the documentary takes a compelling, even-handed approach. So, as the title suggests, you can see everything, but you probably won’t believe it.
There are a few ways in which I see the theme of credibility, or preferably, integrity, show up in the film. The first is the most obvious: Elizabeth Holmes. Even after watching the film, I am still uncertain whether she is a master manipulator, a woman wrongly taken advantage of by men, someone with a personality disorder, or some combination of all of those things. What is especially challenging is resisting the temptation to diagnose Holmes and, instead, merely listening and watching. Though I’m not entirely sure what the intended viewer’s role is here, I do not think it is to pass judgment on Holmes’s character. Holmes is and will remain someone whose believability is never resolved.
The second, less obvious, way in which integrity is examined in this documentary is through Nathan Fielder himself. At the end of the documentary, when Holmes has been incarcerated, Amanda Seyfried (I’ll get to her role in a minute) asks Fielder if he is intentionally hiding something about his interaction with Holmes in prison, where cameras are not allowed. I loved her question. She brought to light how participation in a documentary can affect objectivity. Fielder, at this point, has lived with Holmes for about a month and watched and interviewed her family. Whether he wants to be or not, that makes him intimately tied to the film’s subject. It makes sense, then, when Seyfried is a bit skeptical of Fielder’s account. Mostly, I am inclined to believe Fielder, but Seyfried’s question remains an interesting one.
Speaking of Fielder, I want to highlight his excellent utilization of silence as an investigative tool. From the get-go, it was apparent that he operates in a unique and rather powerful manner. On multiple occasions, when he asks a question and receives a response, he hesitates. Fielder is patient and intentional and, through his silence, provokes additional tangents from interviewees (often accompanied by screechy background music), like Billy Evans, the husband of Elizabeth Holmes. He is comfortable with the uncomfortable.
One of my favorite scenes, which received a lot of audience laughs, is when Fielder shows Holmes and Evans the classic comedy sketch “Who’s On First?” If you have not had the pleasure of seeing the sketch, watch it right now. The joke, basically, is that the names of the baseball players in the skit are confusing; for example, a guy named Who is on first. When Fielder shows the skit to Holmes, she claims not to understand the joke, and he uses the moment brilliantly as an analogy to how she communicated — or rather, failed to communicate — effectively about Theranos. What makes this scene special is that it is not just funny, but illustrative of Fielder’s ability to understand Holmes in ways others don’t. To me, this ability of his makes the documentary as much about Fielder as it is about Holmes.
Now, as promised, let’s talk about Seyfried. The actress played Holmes in the TV series “The Dropout,” and appears in Fielder’s film both as an interviewee and as a performer. In the second half of the documentary, Fielder shows Seyfried the pre-prison portion he has filmed and asks for her thoughts. Like me, she was not quite sure how to respond. She expresses shock, empathy, and confusion, all of which are responses I too had while watching. Seyfried also plays the role of Holmes in reenactments of moments that were not (or could not, because of prison restrictions) captured on film or audio recording. To me, she essentially stands in for the viewer; her reactions mirrored mine and many of the members of the audience, and I say that because the audience I sat with had very vocal responses. Seyfried allows the viewers a space in the film and a place to toss up different ideas without being sure if they’re right. She, like us, is struck by the seemingly endless possibilities of the character of Elizabeth Holmes. I’m glad Seyfried is part of the film because she seems to give the viewer permission to think, “okay, I don’t need to be 100% clear on how to respond to this documentary.”
Seyfried is also a key figure in investigating Holmes’s husband. One of the major shocks in the film is the revelation that Evans (who by the second half of the movie is verily narcissistic and in a strange co-dependent relationship with Holmes) negotiated a deal to receive monetary compensation for the documentary, apparently without Holmes’s knowledge … though that issue is never quite settled. This deal is concerning not only because he’s acting (maybe) without Holmes’s knowledge, but also because it is an ethical issue in the making of a documentary. The directors and A24 executives express to Evans, in a meeting reenacted by Seyfried and others, that a documentary’s believability can be compromised when its subjects are profiting from it, but Evans dismisses their concern, and they agree to give him a cut of the profits. This dynamic makes viewers sit in uncomfortable uncertainty about whether or not their ticket fee is lining Billy’s pocket for a decent portion of the film. In the end, it is revealed that he ultimately gave up his financial interest in the film, but the (reenacted) conversation remains another way that integrity is examined in the film.
From the many questions “You Can See Everything” raises about deceit, filmmakers, and communication to the possible answers it offers, the documentary is one I could not recommend highly enough. It is a thoroughly engaging adventure unlike any experience I have ever had. “You Can See Everything” is a documentary that can and will be discussed endlessly, with no final word in sight.
