You Can See Everything (2026)

Nathan Fielder fans, this is our Super Bowl.

I saw You Can See Everything on opening night in a theater packed with Nathan heads, and I fucking love this movie. Three hours of laughing, gasping, and strangers turning to each other going “what?” It’s 174 minutes and it zips. I’ve been chewing on it for three days and I’m still not done.

In 2023, with 34 days left before Holmes reports to federal prison, she and her partner Billy Evans invite Fielder and Lance Oppenheim to film them at a rented beach house in Del Mar. It starts as a strange hangout movie and halfway through turns into something much denser: a film about truth, about journalism, about whether you can ever know another person, and about what it means that Fielder is the guy asking.

Nathan Fielder fans to the front. This is your movie, especially if you love The Rehearsal. The reenactments, the obsessive control, the way he puts himself on the hook right next to his subjects: all of it gets pointed at the most famous liar in Silicon Valley, and the payoff is enormous if you know the body of work. Oppenheim deserves his share too. Between Primetime and this, back to back, he’s having a hell of a fall.

It’s my favorite documentary of the year so far, and I’d argue it belongs in the Best Picture conversation. It’s not beating The Odyssey. It should still be there.

I’m going to go ahead and say it: I don’t think Elizabeth Holmes belongs in prison. To be clear, she did it. She committed those crimes. I just look around at the men in Silicon Valley doing the same thing and walking free, and it’s hard not to notice who ended up in a cell. She is a weird woman, and my guess is she’s autistic. The Who’s on First scene is the closest the movie gets to an unguarded moment. Fielder plays her the routine, and she can’t find the joke. The bit is built entirely on a misunderstanding, and she doesn’t understand the misunderstanding. I don’t think she was acting. With her you can never be sure, and that uncertainty is the whole movie.

Go in knowing as little as you can. It’s so much more fun that way.

SPOILER WARNING: everything below covers the second half, after the film jumps forward to 2025.

That jump is where Amanda Seyfried walks in. Fielder shows her the footage and asks her to reenact the encounters he couldn’t film, with Christopher Abbott playing Billy. Seyfried already played Holmes in The Dropout, the show Holmes tries to watch in the first half and can’t finish. So the woman who played her once is playing her again, inside a documentary about whether anyone can.

Seyfried is so much fun in this. She was already one of my favorite actresses working today, and this locked it in for me. She truly riles Billy up, gets under his skin in a way Fielder never quite manages, and I loved every second of it. She also gets the heaviest material: wrestling with what her role in this story has been, and coming face to face with the hurt The Dropout caused Holmes. We get to see a part of her I’d never seen before.

The longer it goes, the more the film becomes about Billy. The billboards, the posts on X written as Holmes, the AI model that looks like her. He says he holds power of attorney and that his posts come from her emails. Maybe. He looks terrible in this movie, and I’m sure he’s going to love all the attention.

I keep coming back to their relationship, because the love seems real. She trusts him. He seems to love her and their kids, too. He is also a fucking weirdo. The movie lets all of that sit there together without pretending to sort it out. Fielder spent four years with these two and still can’t tell you who they are. I’ve spent three days with the movie and I can’t either.

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