If you’ve even casually been tracking Louis Theroux’s career, you will have detected a noticeable deceleration of late. For a while, after he shed the culty sheen of his Weird Weekends persona, Theroux emerged as a sober, probing documentarian who made films about drug addiction, sexual assault and postpartum depression. These films were, without exception, vital.
Then lockdown happened, and the wheels fell off. After going viral for a self-consciously ironic rap he did 20 years earlier, Theroux settled into the low-stakes quicksand of a generic celebrity interview podcast. You were left with the feeling of an extraordinary talent being wasted.
