Who's Afraid of Louis Theroux?

Man under rock discover manosphere

Extreme misogyny, anti-feminism, hypermasculinity, and so-called “red-pill” philosophy are among the foundational principles of the “manosphere,” a troublingly far-reaching online ecosystem of influencers who have, at long last, been given the Louis Theroux treatment. 

“Make no mistake, this is a horror movie,” Letterboxd user aaron says of the now month-old documentary Louis Theroux: Inside the Manosphere. The film, which premiered on Netflix on 11 March, follows prolific journalist and broadcaster Louis Theroux as he investigates the behind-the-scenes lives of prominent “manosphere” influencers known online as HSTikkyTokky (Harrison Sullivan), Sneako (Nicolas Kenn De Balinthazy) and Myron Gaines (Amrou Fudl), among others. The views proudly disclosed by these influencers are nothing short of horrifying, but hardly eye-opening, as Theroux is somewhat late to the party. 

The criticism the film has amassed has primarily been on these very grounds. It was during the early days of the pandemic in 2020 when Theroux first discovered the “manosphere” through his young sons. Since then, numerous books and documentaries have been produced on the subject. Moreover, the purportedly more intimate portrait of the lives of these men the documentary claims to portray is misleading, as it is merely a continuation of the performance these Andrew Tate wannabes put on across social media platforms.

Despite the prevalence of the “manosphere” both within its own realm and in popular thought, the documentary’s audience seems especially narrow. Lucy Mangan at The Guardian notes that it engages in “too little examination of how online misogyny affects those who didn’t choose to be part of it,” while Ed Power writes for The Irish Times that “The documentary needs more anger and surely more female input.”

Indeed, these influencers could do with no small amount of feminine rage. However, it is perhaps unrealistic to expect Theroux to be the one to provide it. For the female viewer — particularly she who has been tuned into the persistent, misogynistic background noise generated by these men and lauded by figures like Donald Trump — there is much in the film to provoke disgust, but little to arouse surprise. If the purpose of the film is to be shocking, then it utterly fails in that regard.

The disheartening reality of the influence the “manosphere” has had over burgeoning teenagers and adult men for many years may be eye-opening for those (men) who have yet to thoroughly educate themselves on the ways in which many aspects of modern society seem to be running back towards the 1950s and, more importantly, take long, hard look at themselves in the mirror.

Shortly after the film came out, I asked some of my male friends what they thought of its premise and if they would consider watching it. While most of them exhibited varying degrees of ambivalence towards the prospect, one of these friends objected to it on the basis that it would be “too depressing” to spend 90 minutes vis-à-vis some of the most vocally misogynistic men on the planet. While I can’t say I disagree with this sentiment, avoidance of even the most superficial portrayal of what has undoubtedly become a powerful arena exerting a concerning amount of influence on impressionable minds is, at best, complacency, but more likely a part of the problem.

Theroux, too, I would argue, is complicit in perpetuating the reach of the “manosphere.” In a scene from the film in which influencer Justin Waller reluctantly invites Theroux into his home, Waller’s partner, Kristen, offers a curiously scripted response to the journalist’s queries as to the dynamics of their relationship: “My lane is changing diapers, cooking and cleaning, and [Waller’s] lane is working [...] I, to my core, believe that as human beings, male and female, that’s how it’s supposed to be.” In another scene, Amrou Fudl’s girlfriend stands beside him, virtually silent, as he explains their “one-sided monogamous” relationship (a practise shared by many of these influencers) in which his girlfriend is expected to be loyal while Fudl is permitted to sleep with whomever he chooses. Meanwhile, HSTikkyTokky and others condemn the “disgusting” lifestyles of women who use OnlyFans for income despite engaging with the platform themselves.

The lack of female voices throughout the documentary is troubling, especially given that many of these influencers have had numerous allegations of sexual assault made against them. Herein lies, I think, the predominant issue with Theroux’s film: the real-world implications of the “manosphere” on its young viewers, but more so on women, is easily discarded in favour of supposedly light-hearted moments, such as Theroux poking fun at how HSTikkyTokky’s “calves need work.” For those who are somehow encountering the “manosphere” phenomenon for the first time, the documentary may be illuminating, but to leave it as the spectacle it has been allowed to become will only empower both its leaders and followers.

Illustration by Isabelle Holloway