By Chloe Nazra Lee, MD, MPH
October 27, 2026
When the documentary You Can See Everything—the latest project from Nathan Fielder and Lance Oppenheim—was announced, I had little intention of watching it. As a resident physician in psychiatry, I spend my days working with underserved populations who struggle to have their voices heard, let alone find a platform as polished as an A24 production. Elizabeth Holmes, the disgraced CEO of Theranos, has spent years attempting to rehabilitate a reputation shattered by fraud and federal conviction. Why, I wondered, should I lend my attention to another iteration of her narrative?
However, when asked to analyze the film through the lens of relationship dynamics, manipulation, and psychological abuse, I found myself in a dark theater in Rochester, New York. I was surrounded by the sounds of a crotchety octogenarian heckling the screen, but as the film progressed, my initial skepticism gave way to a chilling recognition. The documentary is not merely a portrait of a fallen tech mogul; it is an unsettling study of coercive control.
The Architecture of the Film: Main Facts
You Can See Everything serves as an intimate, if curated, look into the domestic life of Elizabeth Holmes and her partner, Billy Evans. The central tension of the film does not stem from the legality of Theranos or the specifics of the fraud, but from the interpersonal friction between the two subjects.
Early in the film, a seemingly minor incident occurs: Evans intervenes when Holmes is whisking eggs, criticizing her for doing so "too lightly." It is a moment of domestic micromanagement that feels jarringly out of place. This is followed by a series of unsettling scenes—including an "accidental" shot of Evans in the nude that highlights his penchant for puerile attention-seeking—and his persistent, often aggressive, efforts to control the narrative surrounding their relationship. Evans frequently positions himself as the architect of Holmes’s future, claiming ownership over her legacy and suggesting that she will be remembered primarily through the lens of their romance. This shift in focus forces the viewer to confront a disturbing possibility: Is Holmes, a woman known for her cold, calculated deception, currently the subject of an abusive relationship?
A Chronology of Control
To understand the dynamic on screen, one must look at how the relationship is presented as having evolved.
- The Inception: Evans describes falling in love with Holmes within an hour of meeting her, a declaration that seems hyper-romantic until one considers that he was simultaneously courting three other women. This is a classic hallmark of "love bombing"—an overwhelming deluge of adoration designed to erode boundaries and create a sense of rapid, irrevocable dependency.
- The Consolidation: As the relationship progressed, Evans began to integrate himself into Holmes’s public persona. He took control of her X (formerly Twitter) account and managed her public-facing image. His rhetoric is consistently grandiose, utilizing phrases like "building monuments of love to me" and "I know what she’d want" to justify his interference in her affairs.
- The Confrontation: The film’s most revealing sequence occurs during an interaction with actress Amanda Seyfried. When Seyfried challenges Evans regarding his unauthorized commandeering of Holmes’s online presence, his "supportive partner" persona evaporates. He shifts to hostility, disparaging Seyfried’s profession and issuing a veiled, chilling threat: "I’m pretty strategic and well-resourced. I know people who can do just about anything."
Supporting Data and Psychological Context
In the field of psychiatry, we are trained to consider "collateral"—information from outside sources—before forming a clinical opinion. It is necessary to weigh the film’s portrayal against the skepticism of whistleblowers like Tyler Shultz, who has long argued that Holmes is a master manipulator capable of leveraging others’ behaviors to serve her own ends.
However, we must also apply the Biopsychosocial model to the dynamics observed on screen. Coercive control is the cornerstone of intimate partner violence. It is often misunderstood by the public as merely a series of angry outbursts; in reality, it is a calculated, insidious erosion of agency.
The Mechanics of Coercion
Coercive control is rarely identified by the victim in its early stages because it is masked as "protection" or "care." It manifests through:
- Isolation: Ensuring the partner relies solely on the perpetrator for validation or information.
- Diminishment: Subtle "jokes," critiques of body size, or disparagement of the partner’s intelligence or professional capabilities.
- Boundary Erosion: Moving in together too quickly, claiming total knowledge of the partner’s desires, and assuming power of attorney over financial or personal decisions.
Research published in The Journal of Social Psychology confirms that men who align with the "tradwife" movement—advocating for extreme gender roles—often harbor significant hostility toward women. Their push for "submission" is rarely rooted in a desire for a balanced partnership; it is an exercise in power. When Evans claims that he and Holmes "never argue," a clinician hears a warning bell. The absence of conflict in an intense, high-stakes relationship often suggests that one party has ceased to voice their true self to avoid the repercussions of their partner’s fragile ego.
Official Responses and Public Perception
The public reaction to the documentary has been polarized. Some view the film as a transparent attempt to soften Holmes’s image in an era where women are facing increased misogyny and a rollback of rights. By presenting her as a "doting mother" with frazzled hair and a well-loved sweater, the film leans into a "trauma plot" designed to elicit sympathy.
However, my professional instinct remains cautious. Holmes has proven herself to be a highly effective con artist—one who famously deceived political heavyweights like Henry Kissinger. It is entirely possible that both truths coexist: Holmes may be a calculating individual who has found herself trapped by a partner who mirrors her own manipulative tendencies.
Implications for Society and Clinical Practice
As a psychiatrist, I am wary of the current trend to pathologize every interpersonal conflict as "narcissistic abuse" or "gaslighting." These terms are frequently misused in popular culture, losing their clinical weight. Yet, when observing Evans’s behavior—specifically his reaction to being challenged by a woman—the pattern is consistent with a narcissistic personality structure.
The implication here is profound: If an individual as "well-resourced" and high-profile as Elizabeth Holmes can be subject to—or participate in—a cycle of coercive control, it highlights how universal these dynamics are. We are witnessing the intersection of two distinct types of power: the institutional, deceptive power Holmes utilized at Theranos, and the interpersonal, domestic power Evans exerts in their private life.
Lessons for the Observer
The most important lesson for any woman watching this film is to look past the "protection" and examine the reaction to dissent. My father once told me to watch how a man treats others to understand his character. I have updated that advice for my patients: Pay attention to how he treats women who challenge him, not those who agree with him.
When Evans sneers at Amanda Seyfried, the mask slips. The "loving, supportive partner" disappears, revealing a man whose ego cannot withstand a woman’s criticism. Whether Holmes is a willing participant in this dynamic or a victim of it, the result is the same: a life lived in the shadow of someone else’s insecurity.
In my practice, I often use the "Power and Control Wheel" to help patients identify behaviors they have normalized. Patients frequently come to me saying, "I didn’t realize my life was this bad." When I ask them what would happen if they truly stood up to their partners, the silence that follows is the most telling symptom of all.
Elizabeth Holmes may have lost her company and her reputation, but in the domestic theater of her current life, she has perhaps traded one prison for another. The ultimate tragedy of You Can See Everything is not what the documentary reveals about Theranos, but what it exposes about the nature of power. It reminds us that we are only ever seeing what they want us to see—but if we look closely enough at the seams of their narrative, we can see the cracks where the control begins.
Disclaimer: These views are held only by the author and are not shared by any institution with which she is affiliated. This article is for informational purposes and does not constitute a clinical diagnosis of any individual mentioned.











