You Cannot See Everything. But You Are Seen.

Christianity Today: What a Painfully Weird Movie Can Show Us About Lying and Liars, by Russell Moore:

Nathan Fielder is not for everyone.

The kind of person who can’t watch the “Scott’s Tots” episode of The Office because of the cringe factor would never make it through Fielder’s characteristic awkwardness. This time it was on display in his new film, You Can See Everything, in which Fielder spends time with even-more-awkward Elizabeth Holmes—convicted of defrauding stockholders with her Theranos blood-testing device—and her cartoonishly narcissistic romantic partner during the last weeks before Holmes’s incarceration. The primary frustration for moviegoers so far, though, is not the weirdness of it all, but the fact that the film does not live up to its title.

In one sense, you can see everything in this movie—so much so that you wonder why these people ever agreed to let these cameras into their home. You can see Holmes’s manipulation, the boyfriend’s sociopathy, and Fielder’s ethical shadiness and emotional complicity playing out on the screen. You can see Holmes’s parents trying to maintain stability while expressing anguish and perhaps even repressed shame on their faces. What audiences say they can’t see, though, is the answer to the question they want to know: Is this convicted fraudster a serial liar or a dupe who’s deluded?

[W]hat’s really dangerous about lying is right at the source of what’s frustrating about You Can See Everything. Is Elizabeth Holmes a Machiavellian schemer? Or is she a broken soul who cannot tell the difference between what’s true and what’s false? …

We are not responsible for knowing why a given person lies. We are responsible for our own lying, and we are responsible for our own gullibility in the face of liars. This requires the kind of humility that accepts that we can be deceived and that we can deceive ourselves. This means a constant seeking of wisdom and a willingness to question our own narratives and motives. I AM the Truth, Jesus told us (John 14:6). That means that giving ourselves over to lies—our own or someone else’s—is not just an abstract rejection of reality but a personal dismissal of him.

That means that we must seek to walk in truth—including a constant prayer of, “Lord, keep me from the lies I can tell myself.” As John tells us, “God is greater than our heart, and he knows everything” (1 John 3:20).

Sometimes the Nathan for you is not a filmmaker but an ancient prophet who can get around your defenses and self-justifications to say, “You are the man!” (2 Sam. 12:7). That’s painful, and sometimes even enraging. But it’s the only way to escape the illusions we build, or that we let others build for us.

You cannot see everything. But you are seen.