Film Review: You Can See Everything

You Can See Everything
Directors: Nathan Fielder, Lance Oppenheim
A24, To Be Formed, Blow Out Productions
In Theaters: 10.16.2026

Where does reality end and perception begin? How much of who we are is determined by our own understanding of ourselves, and how much depends on the image we project and the way others choose to see us? You Can See Everything plunges into this murky territory, offering a disquieting examination of truth, deception and the fragile boundary between authenticity and performance. It’s a film that leaves us questioning not only what we’re seeing but whether the people at its center can distinguish between who they really are and who they need us to believe they are.

You Can See Everything centers around comedian and filmmaker Nathan Fielder and Theranos founder Elizabeth Holmes. In 2022, Holmes was convicted of fraud for misleading investors and patients about technology that could supposedly perform hundreds of revolutionary medical tests from a single finger prick (spoiler alert: it couldn’t). In 2023, she and her husband, Billy Evans, invited Fielder to document the 34 days before Holmes’ 11-year prison sentence began, and he ended up staying in their home. Rather than revisiting the Theranos scandal, the film immerses itself in the couple’s domestic life, with Fielder’s camera observing their preparations, conversations and increasingly strange interactions. As Fielder becomes an increasingly visible presence in their household, the boundaries between subject and filmmaker begin to blur. What starts as an intimate portrait of a family facing an extraordinary moment evolves into something far more unsettling — a study of celebrity, control, performance and the elaborate realities people construct around themselves.

What makes You Can See Everything so fascinating is its increasingly slippery exploration of truth and lies, performance and authenticity and the impossibility of knowing where one ends and the other begins. What initially appears to be an exercise in extraordinary openness gradually becomes a hall of mirrors in which every gesture, conversation and apparent revelation invites suspicion. Is the couple genuinely letting us in or performing a carefully constructed version of themselves? Is Fielder exposing their deceptions, or is he drawing us into a manipulation of his own? The film’s real genius lies in refusing to provide easy answers, leaving us to wonder who is manipulating whom, and whether truth can ever be separated from the performance of telling it.

My first reaction when I heard about You Can See Everything was that it was Borat meets Fatal Vision, the controversial bestseller by Joe McGinniss. Convicted killer Jeffrey MacDonald sued McGinniss, claiming that the author pretended to believe his innocence to gain his trust and access, then portrayed him as guilty in the book, and what McGinniss believed was meant to be an argument in his defense turned out to be a fierce indictment. The case ended in a $325,000 settlement, without McGinniss admitting wrongdoing. The first difference here is that Holmes and Evans solicited a documentary crew to chronicle their story, and Fielder never claimed that he was trying to make a film that exonerated Holmes. 

Here, we get to see the battle for control over the story of Theranos and the claim of revolutionizing medical testing with one small prick play out in a battle of wills between Fielder and Evans, who is one colossal prick. There’s no end of people trying to play each other here, but Fielder and co-director Lance Oppenheim (Primetime) have two primary goals: creating a fascinating film and finding some truthful answers, and the source that they turn to find a degree of truth (whom I refuse to reveal here) is an unconventional but inspired choice. That stroke of genius elevates the film from being a documentary to being a bold, experimental classic that deserves serious consideration for Best Picture at the Academy Awards, whether it contends for Best Documentary or not.

You Can See Everything may be a hard film to fit into your schedule, at a runtime of 174 minutes, but it’s well worth it. Be aware, however, that the film is the mental equivalent of a houseguest, invited or otherwise: once you let it in, it may never leave you. —Patrick Gibbs

Read more film reviews by Patrick Gibbs:
Film Review: The Social Reckoning
Film Review: Angel and The Badman

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