Nathan Fielder is a genius. There’s no other way to put it. In what I believe to be the apex of Fielder’s career, You Can See Everything (🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟) is a masterpiece. Unquestionably deserving of The Five Star Treatment. But perhaps the single biggest compliment I can pay Fielder & this movie is that Fielder’s work goes beyond genre-defining: it’s genre-expanding. In other words, Fielder just changed my expectations of what it means to make a documentary. I don’t believe we’ve ever gotten a documentary like this before. As I sit here and write this review in disbelief, I question if we ever will again. The way co-directors Fielder and Lance Oppenheim create a journey that shoves you in the faces of two stone-cold sociopaths is a magic trick. This is a film that’s 3 hours long but somehow too short. I could’ve watched another 3 hours if you let me. Whatever Fielder is serving, I’m ordering.  
The crux of the story here is straightforward yet mind-boggling; in 2023, before she was set to begin an 11 year long prison sentence, notorious Theranos founder and fraudster Elizabeth Holmes and her partner Billy Evans have invited Nathan Fielder to live with them and document her final days of freedom, encroaching on a family’s final moments together.  What follows is a documentary that blurs the line between truth and fiction with such force that it disappears all together. Every genuine moment might be a performance. Every conversation may have an ulterior motive. Every awkward silence could be strategic. And when the subject of Fielder’s documentary is no longer accessible to him, he continues his exploration and hunt for truth in the unique way that only Fielder knows how.  
There is simply so much to unpack with this movie, because the conceit driving it all is an inherent oxymoron. How do you create a documentary, a piece of film designed to be transparent and truth-bearing, about people who are famous for being frauds? Who successfully lied and conned people who sit at the highest levels of government and industry? Can one document deception without participation? A documentary is inherently performative; everyone involved has a motive. That is dialed up to an 11 here, as Holmes and Evans are the quintessential final bosses of deceit and discomfort. You never know where you stand with either one. They are a two person cult. The second you start feeling bad for one, you wonder if you’re falling into their trap. No moral evaluation can be relied upon, because the audience’s perspective shifts constantly throughout the entire film.  
Nathan Fielder was built in a lab for this movement. He is the perfect person for the job. He built a decades-long career in sitting back, allowing people to stew in their discomfort, and seeing what comes next. And to be totally honest, I think Holmes underestimated his intelligence. When a conversation reaches an awkward pause where a normal person would step in to fill the silence, Fielder lets it lie to see who chooses to fill it and with what. But here he may have met his match, in a couple that relies on prolonged eye contact, the guise of full access, and weaponized helplessness. One of the documentary’s great feats (of which there are many) is making us wonder if Fielder has gotten pulled too deep into their orbit. Fielder’s own biases may make him susceptible to the very manipulation he’s trying to expose. A great final moment between Fielder and his rehearsal scene partner brilliantly mimics and reverses the roles of his final conversation with Holmes before jail. Has the deceived become the deceiver….