You Can See Everything 2026 Movie Review Trailer

 For anyone even tangentially connected to the worlds of documentary filmmaking, comedy, or medical fraud, one thing has dominated the conversation for weeks: a one-minute clip of Nathan Fielder—the absurdist comic whose genre-defying HBO series *The Rehearsal* cemented his status as a master of the docu-reality format—staring deep into the blue eyes of Elizabeth Holmes, the disgraced founder of the blood-testing startup Theranos. 

Unblinking, with their faces mere inches apart, the deadpan humorist—known for his outlandish business schemes—and the convicted fraudster appeared locked in a battle of wills. "Are you being authentic right now?" Fielder asked in a moment that was classic meta-commentary: Could Fielder have spent years secretly filming a documentary with one of Silicon Valley’s most notorious pariahs?

Directors: Nathan Fielder, Lance Oppenheim
Stars: Billy Evans, Nathan Fielder, Elizabeth Holmes

The prospect of seeing TV’s great illusionist face off against the iconic fraudster and media figure seemed, at first, too good to be true; the anticipation surrounding *You Can See Everything*—Fielder’s clandestine documentary, co-directed with the current wunderkind Lance Oppenheim (whose narrative feature debut, *Primetime*, starring Robert Pattinson, premiered last month)—was so intense that securing a ticket to its New York Film Festival premiere on Wednesday became the season’s most coveted prize.

Those who attended can confirm: the hype was justified. *You Can See Everything* is, in some ways, more shocking, complex, thorny, and revelatory than promised: an astonishing and gloriously unsettling hall of psychological mirrors, an electrifying, once-in-a-lifetime clash between director and subject. From the moment Billy Evans—Holmes’s elusive husband and business partner, who appeared on the scene after the Theranos scandal—declares that "the best way for people to see who she is... is to allow the greatest possible access to our daily lives" while lying on the floor of a playroom with Holmes, you know you are in for a wild ride. 

I sat open-mouthed for—conservatively—half of the three-hour runtime, a duration that is unusually justified in this film. Let me say this right now, if you’ve made it this far: I won’t reveal the major twists—and if you know even a little of Fielder’s work, you know they’re coming—in a unique film where the enjoyment depends partly on the element of surprise, for both the audience and the filmmakers, who genuinely seem unaware of what they were getting into when they entered the house Holmes and Evans rented in 2023. Suffice it to say, the less you know about what’s in store, the better.

What I *can* tell you is that *You Can See Everything* is a masterpiece about who is playing whom, as well as the fragility and absurdity of trust—trust that seems to have sprung from sheer chance. Back in 2023, after being convicted of wire fraud and conspiracy—and while awaiting the start of an 11-year prison sentence—Holmes sought out a film crew with Evans (who seems like her ideal match, given that neither ever blinks and perhaps both are always lying) to document her life with her two young children; the goal was to proclaim her innocence and, perhaps, reinvent her image for a sort of "Theranos 2.0." For some reason, they chose Oppenheim—a documentarian whose distinctive style (hypersaturation, tight close-ups, slow and unsettling zooms) reveals the sinister within the everyday—and Fielder, whose precise style—marked by extreme awkwardness and traits bordering on the autism spectrum—ensures that no question is off-limits. As Fielder notes on camera during one of several exquisitely candid confrontations, it is a strange choice to let a comedian famous for business-related stunts make a documentary ostensibly intended to clear the name of the central figure in what was arguably the most high-profile fraud scandal of the 2010s.

The result is a three-hour documentary—shot like a thriller and featuring a dramatic score—that unfolds as a real-time unraveling of certainties. Oppenheim’s signature style—shots that cling to a face before penetrating it with laser-like curiosity—is a perfect fit for the material; scenes that might have been merely bizarre vignettes transform into a fascinating parade of indecipherable motivations, where the isolated subjects clash and chafe against one another. It is deeply satisfying to watch Fielder’s sharp edges—his arched eyebrows, his incisive questions, his disregard for social niceties—collide

I must admit I am writing about a film that simply has to be seen to be discussed—one that will undoubtedly spark conversations about exactly what it is we have just witnessed. Rest assured, however, that the situation spirals into something quintessentially Fielder-esque, evolving into a dissection of the format unlike anything I have ever seen—or, as the plot unfolds and the participants drop their filters or sharpen their wits, anything I ever expected to see—centered on the figure of Elizabeth Holmes. Rest assured, too, that if there was a question you wanted to ask Holmes—or, better yet, her husband (did he really have no qualms when he met the disgraced founder at a party in 2017, right at the height of her scandal?)—that question gets asked, and the film goes much further (I certainly didn't need to know anything about conjugal visits—or the lack thereof—at the Texas prison where Holmes remains incarcerated).

Ultimately, rest assured that you will see more than you ever imagined regarding Elizabeth Holmes—and perhaps come no closer to discerning the truth—yet the experience will have been entirely worth it.

Watch You Can See Everything 2026 Movie Trailer