‘You Can See Everything’ review: Disgraced Theranos CEO Elizabeth Holmes proves a slippery subject for fascinating documentary

Dirs: Nathan Fielder, Lance Oppenheim. US. 2026. 174mins

A haunting film about the impossibility of deciphering other people’s motives, You Can See Everything begins as an intimate look at disgraced billionaire and Theranos founder Elizabeth Holmes in the month leading up to her 11-year prison term. But Nathan Fielder and Lance Oppenheim’s extraordinary documentary soon goes in unexpected directions, becoming an uneasy treatise on love, reality television, and the ways filmmakers try (and often fail) to capture ’real’ life. The two directors are well-known for crafting nonfiction projects that actively question the notion of an objective truth, so it is fitting that in Holmes — who was pilloried as a chronic liar and manipulator — they have met their match.

Fascinating and shocking

A24 releases the picture in the US on October 16 following its New York debut. Fielder is acclaimed for his docuseries Nathan For You and The Rehearsal, both of which star him — or, perhaps, a slightly exaggerated version of himself. Oppenheim directed the documentaries Some Kind Of Heaven and Spermworld, as well as the Emmy-nominated Ren Faire, before making his narrative debut with last month’s Primetime. Bolstered by glowing reviews and deafening buzz, You Can See Everything will cater to discerning arthouse crowds, although those enthralled by Holmes’ rise and fall — already depicted in the 2022 miniseries The Dropout — may also tune in.

On May 30, 2023, Holmes went to prison for defrauding investors of her health-tech company Theranos, which she claimed had invented a device that would revolutionise blood testing. Thirty-four days before she surrendered to authorities, however, she allowed Fielder and Oppenheim to bring cameras into the San Diego rental house she shared with her fiancé Billy Evans and their two young children. With Fielder often on screen interacting with Holmes and Evans, You Can See Everything gives the audience a sense of the couple as they prepare for Holmes’ incarceration. Holmes insists she did nothing wrong, but Fielder is never entirely sure if she honestly believes that, or if she is just telling another lie.

Despite the enormous access provided to the filmmakers, what quickly becomes apparent is that spending time with Holmes is not the same thing as actually knowing her. She may have friendly eyes and an unassuming air, but Fielder cannot forge a meaningful connection with his distant subject, no matter how much they talk. Ari Balouzian’s ominous score and David Bolen’s moody cinematography create layers of suspense as we watch Fielder try to draw Holmes out, constantly being stymied in his attempts to crack her pleasant surface to ascertain her true feelings about her failed business and upcoming prison stint.

You Can See Everything represents the first time the directors have worked together this closely, and the documentary plays to their strengths. Fielder’s jaggedly funny persona — slightly awkward but ingratiating, able to ask tough personal questions in a casual manner — is fascinating opposite either Holmes or Evans, who appears to be as elusive and disconnected from reality as his fiancée. But wielding his deadpan speaking style and piercing stare, Fielder slowly exposes cracks within their supposedly picture-perfect relationship.

Meanwhile, Oppenheim’s gift for striking visuals gives You Can See Everything a cinematic grandeur despite this nearly-three-hour film consisting almost entirely of conversations — albeit tense, riveting, often discomfortingly amusing conversations. Fielder’s frequent editor Adam Locke-Norton supplies the picture with a propulsive forward momentum, shaping the story like a psychological thriller.

In their films, Fielder and Oppenheim have consistently subverted the idea of ’authenticity’ and, as a result, both men have been accused of manipulating events in their nonfiction projects to manufacture specific outcomes. You Can See Everything shrewdly demonstrates the fallacy of reality in art while acknowledging that everyone — including the filmmakers and Holmes and Evans — distorts the truth for their own purposes.

This last point is explored in fascinating and shocking fashion in the documentary’s second half, which involves Fielder questioning the motives behind The Dropout in marvellously meta ways, receiving unlikely help in unraveling what makes Holmes and Evans’ relationship tick. Along the way, Fielder and Oppenheim also mix tones to striking effect, blending ironic humour with moments of genuine pathos — especially as Holmes’ imprisonment grows imminent. Even the film’s natural end point turns out to be an intriguing feint, with Fielder learning disturbing new information once Holmes is behind bars.

Fielder, an enigmatic presence himself, goes into this project wanting to solve the mystery of Elizabeth Holmes. Three hours later, he is no closer to an answer, but the filmmakers emerge with something more rewarding: a healthy respect and sympathy for the falsehoods we project to protect ourselves from the world.