Louis Theroux is looking chipper in his new documentary, Inside the Manosphere, the first since he inked a deal with Netflix. As well he might, considering his previous outings have involved embedding with cult-like religious groups, institutions for violent offenders, or the incredibly creepy Jimmy Saville. Sunny locations and men with juiced-up muscles in too-small clothes who make their living grifting on social media must barely register. As he cheerfully announces to one influencer intimidated by the number and size of their cameras, “we’re not YouTubers”. He’s the one in charge, even if they have bigger muscles and smaller T-shirts.
He’s hardly swimming with the sharks here. Andrew Tate, the biggest fish in the fetid Manosphere pond, was either too spooked by Theroux’s reputation for skewering his subjects or simply aware that he doesn’t need the publicity. These are the pilot fish of the ecosystem, still carnivorous enough to nibble but mainly riding the coattails of the apex predators by aping their tactics: generate outrage, grow followers, sell questionable products, profit?? Their net worths are also questionable – how much of the fast cars and gaudy homes are acquired on tick is a big question. Theroux can’t seem to get to the bottom of it.
