You Can See Everything

You will likely have no idea what you have just seen, besides that it’s simply, unabashedly, unashamedly brilliant.

Not just the film of the year—it’s a documentary that stands shoulder-to-shoulder with the form’s all-time greats.

A triumphant, riveting, and continually shape-shifting piece of creative non-fiction with curiosity and a playful sense of uncomfortable humor that will be no surprise to anyone familiar with Fielder’s work, it’s the kind of documentary that is persistently inquisitive and skeptical: both about its alarmingly wide-eyed subject who often refuses to blink, and the process of documentary filmmaking itself.

Almost immediately, it’s evident that You Can See Everything pushes the boundaries of documentary filmmaking, and somehow, even after 174 minutes, it leaves us hungry and curious for more.

Overall, Fielder and Oppenheim have crafted a remarkable and at times brilliant piece of filmmaking.

You Can See Everything is just about the furthest thing from a “pure” documentary you’ve ever seen. That’s part of its appeal — it’s a one-of-a-kind reality-TV-as-hangout-movie psychodrama circus. Yet it’s been made with a spirit of true inquiry.

Ultimately, You Can See Everything is a troubling and undeniably gripping work. It succeeds not simply because it uncovers new things about Elizabeth Holmes (without ever arriving at some definitive new truth) but, more importantly, because it understands how elusive such truth can be.