by Josh Sewell
You Can See Everything
(Rated R for language and some graphic nudity. Opens in select theaters on October 16.)
The premise: About a month before she goes to prison, notorious Silicon Valley fraudster Elizabeth Holmes and her partner, Billy Evans, invite skeptical directors Nathan Fielder and Lance Oppenheim to document their every move. What begins as an intimate portrait of an enigmatic felon becomes a complex three-year journey.
The verdict: I’m typically not a fan of “cringe comedy.” I respect storytellers like Larry David, Sacha Baron Cohen and Fielder – the work they do is brilliant – but my anxiety and secondhand embarrassment mean I watch most of their stuff though my fingers. That’s why I was apprehensive when I learned Fielder and Lance Oppenheim (who also directed last month’s Primetime) premiered their new three-hour documentary You Can See Everything as a secret screening at the Telluride Film Festival to rapturous reviews a few weeks ago.
I knew I’d have to see it (the Oscar buzz started immediately), but I was also worried my brain would short circuit from wincing so much. Luckily, despite squirming in my seat the whole time, I survived the screening and my reward was experiencing one of the most unhinged, hilarious, infuriating and ultimately fascinating documentaries I’ve seen in a long time. You Can See Everything is easily one of the year’s best films and a shoo-in for my Top 10 in December.
It’s hard to talk about this one without revealing the cool twists and turns, but Fielder and Oppenheim raise thoughtful questions about reality, truth, performativity. Never has it been clearer in a documentary that the mere presence of a camera impacts the result of what the filmmakers are capturing. The film also establishes a new all-time villain in Evans; the guy is loathsome, but you can’t look away.
Three hours might seem like an eternity, but You Can See Everything is remarkably well paced. When Holmes goes to jail at the halfway point, I was confused. I checked the time and wondered what was in store for the next 90 minutes, then never looked away from the screen again. The film is that captivating.
Grade: A
Musk
(Rated R for language and brief violent content. Opens in select theaters on October 16.)
The premise: In this extensive documentary, director Alex Gibney provides an exhaustive look at Elon Musk, the inventor turned entrepreneur turned politician, in an effort to brush aside all the mythmaking and self-aggrandizement to discover the very real person who wields enormous influence on our world.
The verdict: To paraphrase a famous animated mad scientist: if I had a nickel for every epic-length documentary about a sociopathic Silicon Valley con artist I watched this week, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.
Clocking in at four hours, Musk is always interesting, but Gibney’s film falls into overkill territory for a theatrical release. It might’ve worked better as an HBO limited series, especially since there are clearly defined chapters, but expecting viewers to sit through the entire thing as it makes the same points over and over again is a lot to ask (although there is an intermission).
None of the information Gibney presents is particularly revelatory or mind-blowing for anyone who has followed the divisive figure’s career over the decades, but it’s damning to see it all presented in one place. There’s also some dark pleasure to be had in the goofy video game avatar Gibney creates for Musk (who declined to be interviewed), as well as conversations with rubes who were shocked – shocked, I tell you! – that Musk would betray them, well after it was glaringly obvious what kind of person he was. Still, the doc should prove to be a solid archival source for future historians.
Grade: B
If I Go Will They Miss Me
(Not rated but contains language, drug use, sexuality and thematic elements. Now playing in select theaters.)
The premise: Lil Ant (Bodhi Dell) is a 12-year-old struggling to connect with his father (J. Alphonse Nicholson), recently home from prison. When he begins to see surreal, almost spectral visions of boys drifting around his neighborhood, their presence reveals a link between father and son, laying bare the threads that bind family, legacy and place.
The verdict: Written and directed by Walter Thompson-Hernández (based on his 2022 short), this deeply moving film is evocative of other visually poetic works like Moonlight and The Florida Project. While it doesn’t reach those poignant narrative heights (it’s tough to top literal masterpieces), Thompson-Hernández still crafts an immensely moving watch thanks to strong central performances, Michael Fernandez’s stark cinematography, and a strong score by Malcolm Parson that doesn’t overwhelm the proceedings.
If I Go Will They Miss Me is heartwarming at times and soul-shattering at others. Dell and Danielle Brooks (as family matriarch Lozita) are phenomenal. Nicholson is also excellent, though his character is often frustrating – which is the point.
Moments of fantasy and imagination are depicted in simple but beautiful ways, with Thompson-Hernández even paying homage to some of Spike Lee’s trademark shots. All these wonderful narrative choices lead to an incredibly powerful conclusion, which allows the film to end on the strongest note possible. Although it’s only playing in a handful of Atlanta theaters, I urge you to keep this one on your radar when it hits streaming.
Grade: A-
(Rated R for language and some graphic nudity. Opens in select theaters on October 16.)
The premise: About a month before she goes to prison, notorious Silicon Valley fraudster Elizabeth Holmes and her partner, Billy Evans, invite skeptical directors Nathan Fielder and Lance Oppenheim to document their every move. What begins as an intimate portrait of an enigmatic felon becomes a complex three-year journey.
The verdict: I’m typically not a fan of “cringe comedy.” I respect storytellers like Larry David, Sacha Baron Cohen and Fielder – the work they do is brilliant – but my anxiety and secondhand embarrassment mean I watch most of their stuff though my fingers. That’s why I was apprehensive when I learned Fielder and Lance Oppenheim (who also directed last month’s Primetime) premiered their new three-hour documentary You Can See Everything as a secret screening at the Telluride Film Festival to rapturous reviews a few weeks ago.
I knew I’d have to see it (the Oscar buzz started immediately), but I was also worried my brain would short circuit from wincing so much. Luckily, despite squirming in my seat the whole time, I survived the screening and my reward was experiencing one of the most unhinged, hilarious, infuriating and ultimately fascinating documentaries I’ve seen in a long time. You Can See Everything is easily one of the year’s best films and a shoo-in for my Top 10 in December.
It’s hard to talk about this one without revealing the cool twists and turns, but Fielder and Oppenheim raise thoughtful questions about reality, truth, performativity. Never has it been clearer in a documentary that the mere presence of a camera impacts the result of what the filmmakers are capturing. The film also establishes a new all-time villain in Evans; the guy is loathsome, but you can’t look away.
Three hours might seem like an eternity, but You Can See Everything is remarkably well paced. When Holmes goes to jail at the halfway point, I was confused. I checked the time and wondered what was in store for the next 90 minutes, then never looked away from the screen again. The film is that captivating.
Grade: A
(Rated R for language and brief violent content. Opens in select theaters on October 16.)
The premise: In this extensive documentary, director Alex Gibney provides an exhaustive look at Elon Musk, the inventor turned entrepreneur turned politician, in an effort to brush aside all the mythmaking and self-aggrandizement to discover the very real person who wields enormous influence on our world.
The verdict: To paraphrase a famous animated mad scientist: if I had a nickel for every epic-length documentary about a sociopathic Silicon Valley con artist I watched this week, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.
Clocking in at four hours, Musk is always interesting, but Gibney’s film falls into overkill territory for a theatrical release. It might’ve worked better as an HBO limited series, especially since there are clearly defined chapters, but expecting viewers to sit through the entire thing as it makes the same points over and over again is a lot to ask (although there is an intermission).
None of the information Gibney presents is particularly revelatory or mind-blowing for anyone who has followed the divisive figure’s career over the decades, but it’s damning to see it all presented in one place. There’s also some dark pleasure to be had in the goofy video game avatar Gibney creates for Musk (who declined to be interviewed), as well as conversations with rubes who were shocked – shocked, I tell you! – that Musk would betray them, well after it was glaringly obvious what kind of person he was. Still, the doc should prove to be a solid archival source for future historians.
Grade: B
(Not rated but contains language, drug use, sexuality and thematic elements. Now playing in select theaters.)
The premise: Lil Ant (Bodhi Dell) is a 12-year-old struggling to connect with his father (J. Alphonse Nicholson), recently home from prison. When he begins to see surreal, almost spectral visions of boys drifting around his neighborhood, their presence reveals a link between father and son, laying bare the threads that bind family, legacy and place.
The verdict: Written and directed by Walter Thompson-Hernández (based on his 2022 short), this deeply moving film is evocative of other visually poetic works like Moonlight and The Florida Project. While it doesn’t reach those poignant narrative heights (it’s tough to top literal masterpieces), Thompson-Hernández still crafts an immensely moving watch thanks to strong central performances, Michael Fernandez’s stark cinematography, and a strong score by Malcolm Parson that doesn’t overwhelm the proceedings.
If I Go Will They Miss Me is heartwarming at times and soul-shattering at others. Dell and Danielle Brooks (as family matriarch Lozita) are phenomenal. Nicholson is also excellent, though his character is often frustrating – which is the point.
Moments of fantasy and imagination are depicted in simple but beautiful ways, with Thompson-Hernández even paying homage to some of Spike Lee’s trademark shots. All these wonderful narrative choices lead to an incredibly powerful conclusion, which allows the film to end on the strongest note possible. Although it’s only playing in a handful of Atlanta theaters, I urge you to keep this one on your radar when it hits streaming.
Grade: A-
Reach out to Josh Sewell at joshsewell81@gmail.com or on BlueSky @joshsewell.bsky.social
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