Andrew Shue and Marilee Fiebig are starting their forever, tying the knot a month after respective ex-spouses Amy Robach and T.J. Holmes did the same.
“Melrose Place” actor Shue and immigration attorney Fiebig married Sunday, People confirmed. The coupleentered the new chapter of their relationship in an intimate ceremony at their New Jersey estate, according to photos published Sunday by the Daily Mail. Fiebig wore an off-the-shoulder lace gown, and Shue wore a black suit without a tie, the photos showed. The attorney’s teen daughter with ex-husband Holmes was also present for the ceremony.
News of Fiebig and Shue’s marriage comes just weeks after the latter announced he and Fiebig were engaged.
“You don’t know how you meet the person who’s right for you,” Shue told People at the time. “It just happened.”
Nearly four years ago, the newlyweds and their journalist exes — also recent newlyweds — were embroiled in scandal. Multiple outlets uncovered the alleged months-long relationship between former “GMA3: What You Need to Know” co-anchors Holmes and Robach in December 2022. The journalists said in 2023 they were in the process of divorcing their exes when the Daily Mail and Page Six reported on their romance. Amid the public scrutiny, Holmes and Robach were fired from their ABC News positions in January 2023.
As the journalists finalized their divorces with their ex-spouses in 2023, reports of a budding romance came to the forefront. Page Six reported that Fiebig and Shue struck up a bond over their experience with the scandal. Shue told People in October it felt like “freak luck” how the controversy led him to Fiebig.
Elizabeth Holmes is the convicted fraudster at the center of Nathan Fielder and Lance Oppenheim’s hit documentary “You Can See Everything,” but for many viewers, it’s her longtime partner, Billy Evans, who has emerged as the film’s marquee villain.
Evans, 34, comes from a wealthy San Diego hotel family and stood by Holmes as her blood-testing startup Theranos collapsed and she was convicted in 2022 of defrauding investors. The couple has two children, 5-year-old son William and 3-year-old daughter Invicta. With Holmes serving an 11-year federal prison sentence in Texas, Evans is raising their children while pursuing a new biotech venture of his own.
In the film — warning: spoilers ahead — Evans comes across as controlling and increasingly volatile, taking over from Holmes as she whisks eggs, interrupting an interview to demand that the cameras be turned off and at one point casually brushing his teeth while standing stark naked in the shower, with Fielder awkwardly looking on. He speaks of Holmes dedicating her life to building “monuments of love” to him, and in one heated confrontation threatens to ruin the lives of people he believes have wronged her. “I’ve got vengeance in my heart,” he declares.
So who is Evans, how did he end up with one of Silicon Valley’s most infamous figures and what is he up to now?
What do we know about Evans’ upbringing?
Evans grew up in a wealthy, prominent San Diego family. His grandparents, William and Anne Evans, founded Evans Hotels in 1953, opening what became the Bahia Resort Hotel on Mission Bay. The family business later expanded to include the Catamaran Resort Hotel and Spa and the Lodge at Torrey Pines in La Jolla.
Evans attended Francis Parker School, an exclusive private school in San Diego, before graduating from MIT with a degree in economics in 2015. Despite his family’s wealth, Evans is neither an employee nor a shareholder of Evans Hotels, according to a statement the company issued Oct. 1.
His family reportedly had reservations about his relationship with Holmes at first. But his father, also named William, became a supporter — and even went undercover of sorts at her 2021 fraud trial. According to NPR, the elder Evans showed up for jury selection under the name “Hanson,” introducing himself to reporters as a concerned citizen who fixed up old cars for a living. His expensive loafers and a Starbucks cup bearing a different name eventually raised suspicions.
How did Evans meet Holmes?
The two met Oct. 7, 2017, at a Fleet Week party hosted by a venture capitalist in San Francisco, according to Evans. Theranos was already engulfed in scandal, though Holmes had yet to be criminally charged.
In the documentary, Evans recalls that he initially didn’t recognize Holmes because she was wearing a floppy hat, dark sunglasses and a Band-Aid on her face from a scratch by her husky. He says he fell in love with her almost immediately. When Fielder points out that he could barely see her face, Evans replies, “I guess that wasn’t what mattered to me.”
Nathan Fielder observes Elizabeth Holmes with her family in “You Can See Everything.”
(A24)
Holmes says the attraction was mutual. The two became friends and started dating about six months later, just weeks before she was indicted on federal fraud charges.
Fielder asks Evans whether he worried early on that Holmes might be conning him. “100%,” Evans replies, before asking what she would have had to gain from him. “Well, isn’t your family rich?” Fielder asks.
Pressed about the family’s money, Evans grows visibly uncomfortable and cuts the conversation short, saying he needs to get to a cousin’s event.
How is Evans managing life with Holmes in prison?
Since Holmes entered federal prison in May 2023, Evans has been raising their two children in Austin, Texas, bringing them to visit her at the federal prison camp in Bryan. Holmes is expected to transfer to a halfway house outside Austin in August.
In an appearance last week on the tech podcast “All-In,” Evans described the difficulty of the experience. “It’s hard because I’m building a business and I’m trying to free my wife from federal prison and I’m raising two kids,” he said.
Though Evans routinely refers to Holmes as his wife, Holmes said in a 2025 interview from prison with People that they had not legally married: “Maybe we’ll get married someday, but our bond is more than a piece of paper.” The two got engaged in 2018, reportedly at a Taylor Swift concert.
Is Evans trying to revive Theranos?
After graduating from MIT, Evans reportedly attempted to launch a medical concierge service before working at companies including LinkedIn and Luminar Technologies, which developed lidar systems for autonomous vehicles.
In 2022, he founded Haemanthus, a biotech startup developing technology to analyze biological samples using lasers. The company hopes to make diagnostic testing cheaper and more accessible — a mission that may sound awfully familiar to anyone who followed the rise and fall of Theranos.
Haemanthus has reportedly raised millions of dollars but has yet to release a commercial product. Eric Potma, a UC Irvine chemistry professor who consults for the company, told Wired this week that its technology is worth exploring despite significant technical challenges. “The engineers at Haemanthus are legit,” he said.
Holmes’ name does not appear in Haemanthus’ incorporation documents, according to Wired. But in the documentary, the couple is shown discussing plans for a new diagnostic venture, with Evans speaking openly about his desire to revive her original ambitions.
“The idea is to put the band back together and do it all again,” Evans tells Fielder.
How has Evans responded to ‘You Can See Everything’?
Evans and Holmes agreed to participate in the documentary in hopes of changing the public perception of her. Early in the film, Evans explains that they wanted to give the filmmakers extraordinary access to their daily lives, embracing what he calls “radical transparency.”
But Evans’ commitment to transparency had its limits. In the film, he repeatedly tries to shut down uncomfortable conversations and, in a meeting reenacted for the cameras, demands a share of the documentary’s profits — an arrangement Fielder fears could compromise the project’s integrity. Evans ultimately agreed to forgo payment.
“We felt Billy was trying to exert a lot of control over the process, and it sort of caused our communication to break down a little bit,” Fielder said during a Q&A after the screening. “The challenging thing is he’s sort of a conduit to her.”
Speaking on the “All-In” podcast before seeing the finished movie, Evans acknowledged that participating might turn out to be a mistake. “I haven’t seen it yet,” he said. “I might think this is like the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.”
Evans attended a private screening of the documentary on Oct. 16, followed by an off-the-record conversation with Bryan Johnson, the tech entrepreneur known for his elaborate efforts to reverse aging.
In a post on X the following day, Johnson called the film “a masterpiece” and described Evans as “magnanimous in conversation.” Though Johnson said he gave Evans every opportunity to defend himself and “strike back because Fielder roughed him up,” Evans declined.
Evans replied publicly, thanking Johnson for treating their conversation with care. “When the world is against you and the pain is so real,” Evans wrote, “it means so much to have people like you show such kindness.”
A former research engineer who worked closely with Elizabeth Holmes at Theranos says “You Can See Everything” doesn’t show, well, everything.
You may remember Tyler Shultz from HBO’s “The Inventor: Out for Blood in Silicon Valley,” or even the fictionalized series “The Dropout” starring Amanda Seyfried as the disgraced Theranos CEO. He was one of the whistleblowers who raised the alarm when Holmes’ blood-testing technology was not the revolutionary medical device she claimed it to be. Shultz met Holmes through his grandfather, former Secretary of State George Shultz, who sat on the Theranos board of directors and scored Shultz an internship at the medical diagnostic startup, which quickly evolved into a full-time position as a research engineer. During his eight months on the job, he realized something was terribly wrong.
“You Can See Everything” directors Nathan Fielder and Lance Oppenheim may have fallen into Holmes’ carefully curated trap, Shultz warns in a new essay.
“I’ve had the displeasure of watching disgraced Theranos founder Elizabeth Holmes at work not just over a three-hour film, but over the entirety of my adult life. I was an employee turned whistleblower at Theranos, my grandfather sat on her board, she came to my family holidays and birthday parties. I met her when I was 20, she went to prison when I was 32,” he wrote in a Stat News op-ed published Monday.
“I wish I could have told director Nathan Fielder what I told [New York Times reporter] John Carreyrou when he started investigating her: Do not underestimate Elizabeth Holmes.”
Los Angeles Times columnist Glenn Whipp wrote that the film leaves viewers with many questions: “about Holmes, about the slippery nature of truth and about the objectivity of documentary filmmaking itself.” The film, labeled a documentary, grossed $15 million this weekend, making it the second-highest-grossing opening for the genre.
But Shultz says that while “You Can See Everything” is an entertaining piece of art, it’s certainly not a documentary, and “it’s dangerous to pretend that it is.”
Shultz calls out what he says are misleading components of the film, including the blood-testing device that Holmes shows Fielder.
“Back to the Theranos device itself. During that scene, my wife had to squeeze my arm to prevent me from jumping out of my seat in the theater and screaming, ‘THAT IS NOT THE DEVICE,’” Shultz writes. “That was not the device I worked with 12 hours a day, not the device we hid from regulators, not the device that constantly failed quality controls, not the device we used to knowingly give patients inaccurate medical results. The device she showed Fielder on the kitchen table was not the reason she went to prison. Elizabeth showed him a future version of the Theranos product that was never completed and never used in order to lead Fielder down this BS semantic rabbit hole and to trick him into litigating the entirely wrong thing.”
The research engineer-turned-whistleblower also called out the quaint two-bedroom condo in which the film was shot, pointing out that Holmes had just recently lived with partner Billy Evans, whose family owns a luxury resort in San Diego, in an estate listed at $125 million.
He also raises questions about the abuse Holmes suffered at the hands of her ex-boyfriend, convicted fraudster and Theranos COO Ramesh “Sunny” Balwani. Shultz claims Holmes spotted Balwani’s abusive tendencies and clocked him as the perfect fall guy if things went south.
Nathan Fielder and Lance Oppenheim’s experimental Elizabeth Holmes documentary “You Can See Everything” is not only one of the most buzzed-about films of the year; it has proved the hype at the box office, already making $15 million during its opening weekend.
One last warning before we proceed: Spoilers ahead.
Before “You Can See Everything” put Holmes back in the spotlight, Amanda Seyfried portrayed the Theranos CEO in the Hulu limited series “The Dropout,” winning a lead actress Emmy for the role.
In the documentary, Holmes tells Fielder she has never watched the series. After his prodding, they watch it together — along with Holmes’ partner Billy Evans — in a Del Mar beach cottage days before she is set to leave her family, including two young children, to report to a Texas prison to serve an 11-year sentence after being convicted of fraud.
In an interview with The Times in 2022, Seyfried recounted telling filmmaker David Fincher about the role, who made a suggestion about how to play Holmes: “He turned to me, and he said, ‘This Theranos girl, she’s not listening.’ And I was like, ‘You’re right!’ Watch her listen. She’s playing listening. … Everything is like, ‘Do you see me listen? Make sure you see that I’m listening to you.’ It’s one of the things that helped her succeed. So much of it was an act, and her bubble was bound to burst. It must have been so tiring.”
During “You Can See Everything,” we observe Holmes watching Seyfried dance in a scene from “The Dropout,” a much-memed moment in the series.
“My favorite thing was getting to express Elizabeth Holmes’ frustration through dance. A character working her s— out. A lot of it was based on the fact that she was a dance student,” Seyfried said.
Holmes cringes at seeing it portrayed onscreen (if you’ve ever had your own dancing or karaoke sessions broadcast, you know the feeling).
In the documentary, Holmes and Evans also claim research wasn’t done before creating the series. Seyfried told us she spent months listening to the 10 hours of deposition tapes in preparation, something she also mentions in “You Can See Everything.” The actor, in a separate interview with The Times published in March 2022, also spoke about how she learned to mimic Holmes’ baritone voice.
Meanwhile, for the dialogue in “The Dropout,” Meriwether discussed getting access to texts sent between Holmes and her former romantic partner, Theranos COO Sunny Balwani, in an essay she wrote for The Envelope in August 2022.
“I had been on conference calls with lawyers for hours discussing every detail, every word, every action line in every script,” she wrote. “The writers had to justify our choices based on the facts we had, so we had scoured the source material, trying to piece together the mystery of what had happened between Elizabeth Holmes and Sunny Balwani behind closed doors at Theranos. And here I was about to open an attachment with the actual text messages that Elizabeth and Sunny had written to each other. It was thrilling and infuriating.”
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On a blazing hot Silver Lake morning, ushering in yet another heatwave day, Anna Holmes and I say “no” to a steamy sidewalk table at Millie’s Cafe, opting instead for an indoor, air-conditioned spot. Our server reads our order back to us, shaking his head in theatrical disbelief. “Pancakes. French toast. Biscuit. Waffle with whipped cream.” He glances from one of us to the other. “No protein?” he asks. “Just the carbs?”
“I guess I’ll have some egg whites, too,” I cave. Not so my brunch companion who confirms, “Just the carbs.” Holmes grins, “I’m not a fan of fad diets that make women hate ourselves.”
In fact, Holmes has built a career of saying “no” to woman-hating of all kinds — starting in 2007, when she founded the boundary-pushing feminist website Jezebel, the sister site of the notoriously provocative Gawker. “I decided that NO would be our mantra of sorts,” she writes in her new book, “The Power of No: A Celebration.” “‘No’ to diet tips, ‘no’ to sexist gossip, ‘no’ to conspicuous consumption. We drove the point home again and again … creating new definitions and examples of what it means to be female.”
Raised in a biracial, working-class family in Davis, Calif., Holmes escaped to New York at 18, chasing her writer’s dream. “Davis was a safe, homogenous little town,” she tells me, spearing one of the sliced strawberries fanned prettily across her waffle. “Being Black, I wasn’t one of the homogenies. I couldn’t wait to get out.”
“The Power of No: A Celebration” by Anna Holmes
(Crown)
Accepted by several top universities, Holmes said ‘yes’ to New York University. “They gave me money,” she explains. “And they had a journalism school.” After graduating, Holmes grabbed a rung on the media ladder and started climbing: writing and editing for Glamour, InStyle and Entertainment Weekly. Holmes published her first book, “Hell Hath No Fury: Women’s Letters from the End of the Affair,” featuring a collection of breakup letters from the likes of Anaïs Nin, Charlotte Brontë and Sylvia Plath, in 2002.
“So, you’ve always been a slacker,” I say.
Holmes laughs. “I come by my drive honestly. It stems from my fear of failure. And growing up lower-middle class, without the kinds of connections the wealthier kids had.”
Next came the breakthrough media success of Jezebel. Her project quickly reached 10 million monthly views, exceeding Gawker’s. But the bold irreverence that drew droves of devoted readers to Jezebel brought contention, too. In June 2010, Jezebel reported that women’s exclusion from senior positions at “The Daily Show” — which the article called a “boys’ club” — was “frustrating and alienating” for women. The story earned an on-air mention by Jon Stewart, who announced “Jezebel thinks I’m a sexist prick” — and an open letter signed by more than 30 female “Daily Show” employees, refuting Jezebel’s allegations.
Holmes says some Jezebel haters were anti-feminist or far-right. “Others were politically aligned with Jezebel, but felt we were too pop-culture-focused. Some accused us of being snarky to other women,” she adds.
After three years, Holmes resigned. “I’d done what I went to Jezebel to do,” she says. “Also, the 14-hour workdays were threatening my marriage, my sanity and my health. I was smoking too much. Drinking too much. Gaining weight.”
Holmes said a final goodbye to her creation in 2013 by publishing “The Book of Jezebel: An Illustrated Encyclopedia of Lady Things.” Despite — and because of — having founded one of the internet’s most provocative publications, she helped lift up journalists, and journalism, in her wake.
“I would follow Anna off of a cliff, professionally and personally,” says Reyhan Harmanci, Wired’s editorial director, who reported to Holmes at Topic magazine a decade ago. “She channels her curiosity in a way that opens the world to readers.”
Former Gawker editor A.J. Daulerio also lights up at the mention of Holmes’ name. “If you look back at Anna’s history of finding and developing talent, you can see her impact. Writers who’ve worked with and for her can be found on podcasts, on mastheads at major publications and on bestseller lists.” Meanwhile, New York magazine’s Emily Gould, who wrote the biting Slate critique of Jezebel in 2010, has come to admire Holmes. “Nobody’s right 100% of the time,” Gould says, “especially when publishing around the clock and reacting to news as it unfolds. My current sense of Anna is that she’s genuinely brave, clear-sighted and wise. I’m eager to read her new book.”
Post-Jezebel, Holmes wrote the “Bookends” column for the New York Times Book Review. Her byline grew a few picas when she replaced Roxane Gay as editor of the Times’ popular “Work Friend” column. Having “made it there,” Holmes decided to leave New York.
“I never considered myself a New Yorker,” she says, stirring a foam flower into her latte. “When people asked, I’d say, ‘I’m from California but I live in New York.’”
“The Obamas?” I blurt. Holmes nods. “I was tired of New York. And wanting to be closer to my elderly mom.” In the first week of the COVID shutdown, Holmes packed her two hissing black cats, donned an N95 mask and flew to LAX. Six years later, after several moves around town, she shares the upper half of a sun-splashed 1920s duplex with Ewok and Harriet.
“I didn’t have a writing community in New York and I don’t have one here,” Holmes says about her L.A. move. “I had a media community in New York. If that exists here, I’m not invited to those parties.” She cocks her head. “Every once in a while, I wonder, ‘Does Susan Orlean have regular salons? And if so, can I please go?’”
Holmes continues to settle into a slower, more domestic groove. “I’m 53 now,” she says. “I don’t want to go out all the time. I like going to bed early. All the cliches are true of me: moving from NYC to L.A. and ending up in Silver Lake — with a Volvo, no less. In my defense, I dress like a tomboy, I don’t have tattoos and I’ve never been to Bar Stella.”
Since her big move, Holmes has written “The Power of No” and is finishing up her fourth book, a sexual memoir. Her articles on wildly divergent topics continue to appear in the New York Times, the New Yorker, the Atlantic and L.A. Material.
“The Power of No” is a slim but impactful guide to the human dance between yes and no; vulnerability and ambition. The book consists of readily digestible yet smart, sophisticated bits, including quotes from luminaries, research findings, anecdotes from Holmes’ own life and others, practical tips, and lists like “Ways to Say No” (which is especially helpful to have on hand during the upcoming holiday season).
“No,” Holmes writes on Page 1: “As uttered by a woman, a provocation. Has there ever been a more fraught relationship between women and word?” By way of example, she cites what she calls “my biggest NO, my strongest rejection of what was expected of me as a woman: founding Jezebel.”
“Has writing about ‘no’ made you better at saying it?” I ask Holmes.
“I don’t purport to be good at it,” she answers. “But I’m more cognizant now of wanting to say it, at least.”
In the mindbending documentary “You Can See Everything,” comedian Nathan Fielder and professed inventor Elizabeth Holmes sit in her beach house staring at each other like gunslingers. Fielder is the creator of the TV series “The Rehearsal” and “Nathan for You” who constructs discombobulating sham realities that include bogus businesses such as Dumb Starbucks. Holmes is the former billionaire CEO of Theranos who pretended she’d built a revolutionary blood testing machine to squeeze investors for a few dollars more.
Each is an expert in the con. But Fielder is deadpan and cold where Holmes is earnest and warm — and he’s been nominated for Emmys while, in May of 2023 when the film begins, she’s about to serve an 11-year sentence in federal prison. As the camera cuts between close-ups of his narrowed eyes and her big, blue ones, Fielder tries to suss whether he can trust the famous fibber to be honest with him. The showdown is riveting.
“You’re being real right now?” Fielder asks, dubious.
Holmes beams. “I’m always being real,” she swears with a smile.
Her charm hits Fielder in the gut. His face stays neutral yet you can see his own confidence bleed out across the screen.
Co-directed by Fielder and Lance Oppenheim (“Primetime”), “You Can See Everything” is the closest Fielder has come to making a traditional documentary. A thrillingly cringe-tastic interviewer, he blurts out blunt questions like a bungee jumper leaping off a bridge, including asking Holmes’ romantic and business partner Billy Evans, the heir to a San Diego boutique hotel chain, whether it’s possible a woman convicted of fraud might be with him for his money.
At nearly three hours long, “You Can See Everything” won’t bore you for a minute. The hook is right there in the title, Fielder’s challenge to the audience: Here’s how Holmes held up to his scrutiny — do we think she’s telling the truth? But be alert. Fielder remains a trickster. One shot in particular proves you can see everything while being blind to what you’re actually watching.
In the first half of the movie, Holmes and Evans, the father of her two young children, give the small crew complete access to their lives during her last weeks of freedom, including inviting Fielder to sleep in their guest bedroom. It’s an act of “radical transparency,” Evans says. As evidence, there’s a fully nude shot of Evans in the shower, testifying to the intimacy the subjects claim they’re granting the team and the confidence they have that the documentary will make them look great. (Evans also boasts that he’s “excellent” in the sack.)
Holmes maintains both her innocence and her eerie smile, a rictus of empathy. She constantly nods, subliminally snake-charming the listener into a sense of agreement. That assessment might be fair or it might be her reputation making you over-analyze her tics. Doubling down, she even insists she’s never told a lie in her life — a claim that momentarily leaves Fielder at a loss for words.
Yet at times, Holmes really does appear to be sincere. Once she surrenders herself to the Bryan Federal Prison Camp in Texas (where, in an unmentioned coincidence, Epstein collaborator Ghislane Maxwell is also incarcerated), the tone shifts into film noir as Fielder struggles to reconcile Elizabeth Holmes’ dual identities. Is she the sweet-natured scientist, the only version of her he’s ever met, or a femme fatale who may still be running a scam?
“It’s personal,” Fielder says of his fixation. How frustrating that he of all people — the dark prince of pranks — may be Holmes’ latest patsy. Composer Ari Balouzian borrows bits of Bernard Herrmann’s violin score from “Vertigo” while cinematographer David Bolen makes the audience hold its breath by framing an image of Fielder and Holmes like they might kiss.
When the movie’s style gets weird, that’s when Fielder is most in his wheelhouse. Stop reading now if you want to preserve the surprise. Micro-analyzing his encounters with Holmes, he reenacts them with an actor, Amanda Seyfried, whose emotional intensity blows into the film like a gust of fresh air. Seyfried, of course, won an Emmy and a Golden Globe for playing Holmes in the 2022 miniseries “The Dropout.” The twists to come, however, feel as much like last year’s naughty hit “The Housemaid,” the domestic thriller in which Seyfried played a shady wife with a marriage made of lies.
Evans initially seems to think they’re participating in a project closer to Netflix’s glossy portrait of Meghan Markle and Prince Harry. The couple doesn’t know much about humor, pop culture or Fielder himself. Fumbling to figure out what makes him tick, Evans attempts to neg the provocateur as someone who lacks the passion to think differently. (Evans may also be the person who used Holmes’ social media account to write a flattering post calling JD Vance “Lisan al-Gaib,” revealing he’s entirely missed the point of “Dune.”)
But thinking differently is Fielder’s awkward superpower. Sooner or later, all of his projects circle around to his concern that he’s simply wired to be unpleasant. His interactions with Holmes are pure cringe comedy, like when she starts to cry perhaps a bit on cue and he stiffly sputters, “Do you want, like, a tissue?” For the record, he brings her one.
As a viewer, the biggest strike against Holmes is this documentary’s very existence. Whether or not you think she’s guilty of fraud, she is about to be separated from her infant and toddler until they’re in grade school. Who on Earth would genuinely want Fielder, the human equivalent of a skunk, to crash their last moments with their loved ones as he does his darnedest to stink up the place?
Fielder is most comfortable as the film’s villain, shooting himself lurking in the couple’s house like “Halloween’s” Michael Myers. At times, his presence does feel monstrous. In one scene, he needles Evans about whether he thinks his soulmate has ever lied to him while Holmes is on the phone in the next room, tearing up as she asks how often she’ll be able to bathe in prison.
The film doesn’t drill into the technical details of Theranos beyond one dizzying scene where Fielder tries to pin Holmes down on exactly what she meant when she said her machine can run hundreds of different tests. She means it just as I would if I bragged I can benchpress a beer keg — that is, once I strength-train beyond my piddly 5 lb dumbbells.
Instead, it tilts into becoming a caper flick as Seyfried’s commitment to understanding her character’s motivation inspires the actor to invite herself along. The drama they uncover is psychological, as befits an era where Silicon Valley CEOs are closer to cult leaders than engineers, making their cash from being televangelists for their IPOs. And both are attuned to the moments when Evans lets his aggravation slip. One scene is a doozy.
Ultimately, suspicion reigns. “You Can See Everything” is an absorbing study of public presentation and private doubts, a documentary that asks more questions than it answers. I hope Fielder will smile and nod approvingly at me if I say I left the film distrusting him, too, especially Seyfried’s re-staging of a long monologue Holmes delivered in prison where recording devices aren’t allowed. Can we believe that Holmes really did say, “I’m tired of having other people speak for me,” or was that laugh line written by the master manipulator himself? I’m now as paranoid as he is — and what a pleasure.
Nathan Fielder would rather you not read this article. At least not until you’ve seen his new movie.
He has a point.
Now in theaters, “You Can See Everything,” the nearly three-hour documentary Fielder co-directed with filmmaker Lance Oppenheim about convicted Theranos founder Elizabeth Holmes, is full of head-spinning twists and turns best left unspoiled, and the filmmakers have gone to extreme lengths to keep them that way. At its secret premiere at the Telluride Film Festival last month, audience members were required to lock their phones in pouches and warned that security guards with night-vision goggles would be watching for anyone trying to record the screening. Afterward, Fielder pleaded with the crowd to keep the film’s biggest surprises to themselves.
Holmes was convicted in 2022 of defrauding investors in her failed blood-testing company and sentenced to more than 11 years in federal prison. Fielder and Oppenheim began filming her and longtime partner Billy Evans, an MIT graduate and heir to a family-owned San Diego hotel business, shortly before she reported to prison in 2023, gaining extraordinary access to the couple and their two young children.
Holmes and Evans welcomed the cameras, hoping they would help vindicate her. But the closer Fielder and Oppenheim got to the couple, the harder it became to distinguish candor from calculated performance. Fielder, whose series “Nathan for You” and “The Rehearsal” put real people through elaborate, often uncomfortable experiments, began to wonder whether the tables had been turned.
“I really am struggling to this day to understand exactly what I experienced in this,” Fielder admitted during a post-screening Q&A at Telluride. “I don’t quite know what I went through.” He said he hoped audiences might help him make sense of the “glitchy feeling” it left in his head.
Having seen the film twice, we’re not entirely sure we can help him.
In deference to Fielder’s wishes, this is your last chance to turn back: Major spoilers follow. For those still with us, here are 10 of the film’s strangest moments — by no means the only ones — along with a few clues from Fielder himself about how they came to be.
Evans takes ’radical transparency’ too far
Evans has a theory about why the world sees his partner as a monster: Nobody really knows her. “In the absence of knowing somebody, it’s really easy to make them feel other and scary,” he tells the filmmakers. His proposed solution is “radical transparency” — a familiar Silicon Valley mantra with an ironic resonance given Theranos’ notorious culture of secrecy. The filmmakers are allowed virtually unlimited access to the family’s life, with Fielder even invited to move into their rented house in Del Mar, near San Diego. In one scene, Evans stands completely naked in the shower, brushing his teeth with the bathroom door wide open and the cameras rolling, as Fielder stands awkwardly nearby. At Telluride, Fielder, who had initially planned to stay behind the scenes, admitted he was still perplexed by the couple’s openness. “I’m a weird guy — why do they want me there?” he said. “That messed with my head a little bit.”
Fielder observes Holmes and her family in a scene from the documentary “You Can See Everything”
(A24)
Theranos, the sequel
A federal fraud conviction apparently hasn’t ended Holmes’ ambitions to revolutionize medical testing. Before heading to prison, she and Evans begin laying plans for a new venture involving lasers and artificial intelligence that Evans describes as “2.0” — a chance, he says, “to put the band back together and do it all again.” Holmes declares, “From wherever I am, I’m going to continue to work inventing, even if it’s inventing from a cage.”
Holmes claims she’s never told a lie
For someone convicted of defrauding investors, Holmes has a remarkably uncomplicated view of her own honesty. Asked by Fielder whether she’s ever told a lie in her life, she replies, “I don’t think so.” Pressed — surely she’s pretended to be sick to get out of a party? — she concedes she has, explaining that she thought he meant the criminal case against her. In a scene that became the centerpiece of the film’s teaser trailer, Holmes fixes Fielder with an unwavering stare. “Why would I deceive you?” she asks. “There’s no reason for me to do that.” When Fielder asks whether she’s being real with him, she doesn’t miss a beat: “I’m always being real.”
The Theranos device gets a second look
Holmes hauls out of storage the infamous Theranos device, the machine that helped bring down her company. “So this is the famous scam device,” Fielder says. “It is not a scam device,” Holmes replies. When she insists the machine can perform any medical test, Fielder finds himself drawn into an absurd debate over the meaning of the word “can.” Did she mean it could actually perform those tests, or that it theoretically would once the necessary chemistry had been developed? The man who has made a career out of baffling other people seems genuinely baffled himself, reduced to explaining the word “can” to the founder of Theranos.
Holmes and Evans enter federal court in 2022.
(Nic Coury / Associated Press)
Elizabeth Holmes meets Abbott and Costello
Still trying to make his point, Fielder turns to Abbott and Costello. He plays Holmes the classic “Who’s on First?” comedy routine — two people hopelessly talking past each other. Holmes watches politely and says she finds it funny. But she seems to have missed the central joke: The first baseman’s name is actually Who. “I didn’t pick it up,” she admits. Fielder’s attempts to explain the joke and why he showed it to her get him nowhere. Evans, watching the exchange, regards his wife’s difficulty following the joke as further evidence that her mind simply works differently from everyone else’s.
Fielder gives Holmes an escape kit
On the morning Holmes is due to report to prison, Fielder arrives with a parting gag gift: hair dye and glasses, in case she’d prefer to disguise herself and flee the country. Fielder is famous for excruciatingly awkward deadpan comedy, but Holmes’ parents are there, the family is preparing for an emotional goodbye and he seems to realize almost immediately that he has misjudged the situation. “I didn’t know your parents would be here,” he says, assuring everyone that it’s “just kind of like a joke.” The more he tries to explain himself, the more uncomfortable things become. “Maybe not appropriate for the moment,” he concedes.
Amanda Seyfried becomes a surprise co-star
Seyfried won an Emmy for playing Holmes in Hulu’s “The Dropout,” which Holmes had avoided watching for fear it would be too emotionally disturbing. Fielder persuades Holmes to watch it for the first time, on a laptop in the couple’s bed. She soon breaks down in tears and asks him to turn it off. Later, Fielder visits Seyfried at her apartment and shows her footage of Holmes watching her performance. So we watch Seyfried watch Holmes watch Seyfried playing Holmes as Fielder watches her. And things only get weirder from there.
At Telluride, Fielder said the filmmakers initially doubted Seyfried would want to participate. But after a brief phone call, she invited them over and agreed to be filmed. Neither side knew where things would lead. “It just actually evolved in that organic way, which was really exciting,” Fielder said.
Seyfried as Holmes in a scene from Hulu’s “The Dropout.”
( Beth Dubber / Hulu)
Seyfried plays detective
Seyfried soon finds herself reenacting Holmes’ conversations with Fielder as he tries to make sense of their encounters. She becomes so invested that she joins Fielder on a visit to Evans’ home, hoping she might get him to open up in ways Fielder can’t. “I feel like an undercover cop right now,” she says, clearly getting a rush. There, after meeting the couple’s children, she unexpectedly winds up on a prison phone call with Holmes herself. With only two minutes for the family to talk, Seyfried suddenly seems mortified to be intruding. “I’m so sorry — I don’t want to ruin your two minutes with your beautiful family,” she says. Fielder, naturally, has a camera running.
Evans takes control of the narrative
With Holmes behind bars, Evans seems determined to manage her public image himself. Armed with power of attorney, he takes over her verified X account, posting messages in her name, some of which sound nothing like the carefully controlled Holmes, including one telling another user to “f— off.” “There’s just so much trust that most things I don’t really consult her on,” Evans says at one point. “I know what she’d want.”
Evans’ attempts to steer the documentary itself begin even before Holmes reports to prison. In a meeting later reenacted in the film, after Holmes leaves the room, he raises the subject of money with Fielder, Oppenheim and executives from A24, the studio behind the film, demanding a share of the profits. Fielder says A24 reluctantly agreed, leaving him worried that the integrity of the project may have been compromised. When Holmes later insists she has no financial interest in the film, Fielder is taken aback. Either she’s “fully sincere,” he tells Seyfried, or “she honestly might be the most manipulative person that’s ever lived.” (The film notes at the end that Evans later changed his mind and decided not to accept payment.)
On Oct. 5, Holmes’ X account promoted the documentary with a tantalizing warning: “I really don’t think you are ready for this doc.” Whether that was Holmes speaking or Evans speaking for her is anyone’s guess.
Seyfried confronts Evans
Things turn ugly during that same visit to Evans’ home. A conversation about conjugal visits and Evans’ sex life gives way to a heated argument over his use of Holmes’ X account. Evans brings up the social media backlash Seyfried faced for criticizing Charlie Kirk after his shooting death, then attacks her portrayal of his partner in “The Dropout.” Soon he’s threatening vengeance against people he believes have wronged Holmes. “I’m going to ruin their lives,” he declares. Asked whose lives he means, Evans replies, “F—ing everyone. I’ve got vengeance in my heart.”
Later, away from Evans, Seyfried offers her own assessment: “He is bat— crazy.”
Eamonn Holmes’s girlfriend Katie Alexander says she’s had a ‘love’ call from the star, who is still in hospital following a strokeCredit: SplashKatie posted a video last week and captioned it: ‘When your man phones you to tell you he loves you’Credit: Instagram
Katie posted a video last week as she went for a stroll along a marina in a vest top, shades and headphones, adding a message: “When your man phones you to tell you he loves you.”
Tanned and relaxed Katie, 45, filming herself using a selfie stick, added the hashtags “you and me”, “meandE” — a reference to Eamonn — and “Lovewins”, with a heart emoji.
Eamonn and Karie on their in IbizaCredit: Darren FletcherEamonn was previously wed to TV host Ruth Langsford, his former co-presenter on ITV1’s This MorningCredit: Getty – Pool
The former “Good Morning America” anchors tied the knot in a private Arkansas ceremony back in September. The marriage license, obtained by People, confirmed the Washington County nuptials.
Last October, the couple announced their engagement on the “Amy & T.J.” podcast. “We’re actually surprised we’re just now talking about it,” Holmes said. “We wanted to let you all know before anybody was able to. We learned that lesson I guess in the past about our relationship: We want to be the first to talk about it.”
The lesson Holmes is referencing is the couple’s big relationship reveal, which happened while they were both anchors on “GMA3” and married to other people.
In 2022, the paparazzi leaked photos of the two holding hands, nestled into each other at a New York bar, and Holmes patting Robach on the rear. Chaos broke loose in the media and behind the scenes at ABC. Holmes’ then-wife, attorney Marilee Fiebig, filed for divorce shortly thereafter, followed by the divorce of Robach and her second husband, “Melrose Place” actor Andrew Shue, months later.
The same month that news of the scandal broke, ABC parted ways with the anchors, and they deactivated their social media accounts. A year later, the broadcasting duo embraced their coupledom, naysayers be damned, and teamed up with iHeartPodcasts to launch “Amy & T.J.,” marketed as “informative, entertaining, and above all, authentic; it will mark the first time Robach and Holmes speak publicly since their own names became a part of the headlines.”
In the debut episode, Robach and Holmes detailed how the scandal unfolded and insisted they’d been quietly separated from their spouses before their love affair began. Both said that the scandal dominating the headlines and the loss of their dream jobs sent them into the depths of despair.
“But we have had each other through it all,” Robach said. “It has been the most beautiful relationship I have had in my life.”
Eamonn Holmes’ girlfriend Katie Alexander wowed in a bikini after moving out of his flatCredit: katster32/InstagramEamonn and Katie pictured at Royal AscotCredit: instagram/@katster32
Katie shared a selection of stunning snaps from some time awayCredit: katster32/InstagramEamonn and Katie got together in 2024Credit: Instagram
Katie wrote: “There is a quiet kind of strength in becoming comfortable with who you are.
“No longer needing to prove, explain or seek validation – just choosing peace, protecting your energy and finding beauty in the life you creating.
“Softness is strength. Peace is luxury. And knowing your worth changes everything.”
She captioned the post: “Starting with yourself.”
It is understood that Northern Irishman Eamonn’s family is now looking after his financial affairs.
The revelation comes days after it was reported that Eamonn would not be returning to his job hosting GB News’ breakfast programme, although the channel’s bosses have denied the claims.
A source told The Sun on Sunday: “Katie is still very much together with Eamonn and in love, but she’s moved out of the flat.
“It’s an incredibly sad situation — she loved it there and the time they spent together making it home.”
“Katie has been Eamonn’s rock and lifeline since he fell ill. She’s willing him to get back to full fitness and get their lives back on track.”
It is not clear where wheelchair-user Eamonn will be staying when he leaves hospital.
Mum-of-three and relationship counsellor Katie lives in West Yorkshire but has been splitting her time between there and the Surrey flat.
Eamonn was previously married to Ruth Langsford between 2010 and 2024.
