You Can See Everything (2026)

I lived in Silicon Valley while the Theranos saga was unfolding, and I’ve mentioned in another post how much that period stuck with me. Everyone seemed to know someone who knew someone, and the company’s mystique was impossible to avoid. That means I’ve followed this story for years, and I’ve read and watched most of what’s out there. Nearly all of it follows the same arc: the rise, the hype, the collapse, the trial. You Can See Everything is far more interested in what happened away from the cameras and headlines, and I’d rather not say much about that, because discovering it is a big part of the fun. If you think you’ve heard everything there is to hear about Theranos, I promise you haven’t.

Nathan Fielder’s Approach to the Documentary

The film’s central gimmick is that Fielder doesn’t interview his subjects from a safe distance. He goes to actually live with them, and the result is an intimacy that a standard sit-down documentary could never get. People behave differently when a camera visits them than when it has been part of their daily routine for weeks, and the film is full of small, unguarded moments that only come from that kind of proximity. Fielder’s deadpan awkwardness works as a disarming tool here. He lets silences run long, asks questions that sound slightly too innocent, and waits for people to fill the space themselves. I came in curious about who would end up manipulating whom, and watching that tension play out was fascinating from a psychological standpoint.

I do have a caveat, and it’s an important one. I’m not sure I would have liked this style if anyone else were doing it. Moving in with your subjects can easily curdle into a stunt or something invasive, and it works here because Fielder’s persona has been built for exactly this sort of discomfort. It also means my enthusiasm is tied to my affection for him. If you find his style grating, I can’t promise this will change your mind. My only other complaint is minor: the film leans heavily on extreme close-ups, and I could have done with fewer of them. A face filling the screen can be effective in small doses, but after a while I just wanted to see a wider shot of the room.

The People I Ended Up Disliking

I won’t spoil anything, but I walked out of the theater disliking completely different people than I expected to. I went in with a clear mental list of who the villains would be, and the film complicated that list in ways I didn’t see coming. My opinions about certain individuals shifted as the film showed more of how they actually behave when they think no one is paying attention. That is probably the film’s biggest strength.

Why You Should See It in a Theater

I’ve seen plenty of people online ask why anyone would pay to see a documentary in a theater, and I understand the instinct. Most of the time I’d agree with them, since a lot of documentaries are perfectly fine on a couch at home. This one is the exception. There were moments so laugh-out-loud funny that the entire theater missed the next line because we were all still laughing, and that shared reaction became part of the experience. Laughter is contagious, and a room full of strangers reacting at the same instant amplifies every awkward beat and every uncomfortable pause. A film built on social discomfort turns out to be an ideal one to watch with other people, because you can feel the room squirm and cackle along with you.

Who Should Watch You Can See Everything

If you’re a Nathan Fielder fan, this is a can’t-miss, and the same goes for anyone interested in the Theranos story beyond its downfall. You’ll want to hear what has been happening out of the media’s eye, and this film delivers it in a way that is both funny and unsettling. If you’re lukewarm on Fielder or you’ve reached your limit on Silicon Valley fraud stories, I’d approach with more caution. But for me, this was a great documentary, and if it’s playing near you, I’d go see it with an audience.