“You Can See Everything” Dares Us to Question the Very Nature of Truth
What is the purpose of comedy? What is the purpose of documentary film? And I guess while we’re going down this philosophical road, what is the purpose of human existence and is objective reality actually real? Nathan Fielder has built a career on answering these nebulous questions. Or perhaps the word “answer” isn’t correct. The comedian’s content is largely driven by presenting unanswerable questions to the audience then stepping back to observe what our responses reveal. This all comes to a head in You Can See Everything, a documentary that is admittedly hard to describe. Ostensibly following Elizabeth Holmes, the film is a shocking examination of communication, performance, and the biased lenses through which we filter truth.
And that’s all I’ll say about the content of the film. In my screening, Fielder and co-director Lance Oppenheim make a brief and lovably awkward appearance, asking a theater filled with critics and influencers to please not spoil the experience for future audiences. While this type of message is fairly common, I feel the need to mention it here, because watching You Can See Everything truly is an emotional experience that I would not want to spoil for anyone else. Go in with as little information as you can and either cover your ears or walk away from anyone who tries to disclose its secrets. Ironically, Fielder’s mind-bending The Rehearsal could offer strategies for how to navigate this type of uncomfortable interaction.
I will not offer spoilers here and will settle for begging you to see this film as soon as you can. What I will say is that You Can See Everything is a roller-coaster of surprising emotions, shifting allegiances, and gender-based bias. Long-time Fielder fans will see it as a culmination of the creator’s lifework — a deep-dive into artifice, while newcomers will likely be stunned to find themselves on the edge of their seats. Fielder’s strangely endearing awkwardness is on full display and we’re treated to a litany of moments where he lurks in the corner, surreptitiously watching life unfold.
I will admit to being a bit put off when I arrived at the theater and realized I was in for a three-hour documentary. I bought myself an overpriced Celsius and settled in for a long night. But to my surprise, the film flew by and I was honestly left wanting more. Each scene is integral to the message Fielder is trying to build and will likely expand upon rewatch. I’ve found myself revisiting seemingly unimportant moments that suddenly feel like damning indictments. The film begs for larger analysis and a detailed exploration of every scene. Oppenheim’s framing is also mesmerizing with intensely close shots that pull us into Elizabeth’s strange world.
We were all captivated by that shocking teaser trailer in which Fielder stares down Elizabeth at point blank range, trying to pierce her thick wall of deceptiveness. This viral moment is only the tip of a massive iceberg of frustration, miscommunication, and delusion. Elizabeth’s staunch refusal to admit any wrongdoing feels particularly painful in the year 2026. This moment has resonated so strongly with audiences because we’re used to seeing half the population double down on misinformation, unwilling to admit even the tiniest mistake while they cling to delusion and self-righteousness. Nathan tries to cut through these defenses and lead Elizabeth to a reality they can both agree upon. And it’s left up to the audience to decide if he succeeds.
Like most of Fielder’s work, You Can See Everything works on multiple levels. Ostensibly designed to rehabilitate Elizabeth Holmes’ image, the story transforms into a deeper exploration of empathy, honesty, and truth itself. The addition of a surprising character allows us to study Fielder’s own place in the narrative while examining Elizabeth’s claims through a gendered lens. To avoid spoiling the film’s poignant and surprisingly tender conclusion, I’ll compare it to a moment from season two of The Rehearsal.
While studying the effects of negative feedback, Fielder finds himself reliving his early days of screening contestants for Canadian Idol. We watch as he kindly rejects a teenage hopeful, explaining that while she doesn’t yet possess the level of talent they’re looking for, her willingness to audition shows an ambition that will make her likely to succeed. Outside the room, she’s asked to rate Fielder’s delivery. Considering the gentle conversation we’ve just witnessed, we’re surprised to see that she’s given him a six. Fielder turns the slip of paper over to show a nine and we’re left with the lingering question of truth. Is it possible to divorce emotion from our perception of reality or will our own complex motivations always color our understanding of the world? What does this have to do with a documentary about Elizabeth Holmes? Well, you’ll have to watch to find out.
Jenn Adams is a writer and podcaster from Nashville, TN. Find her on social media @jennferatu.