Producer and journalist Lynn Larkin braves the online world in her review of Louis Theroux: Inside the Manosphere.
A ring light glows. A microphone hangs just out of frame. A young man speaks with bravado to a camera about dating, power and what he believes his gender is owed, as thousands watch online. Into this space steps Louis Theroux, calm and curious, asking his trademark gentle questions that can eventually pull apart even the most polished of speeches. Louis Theroux: Inside the Manosphere explores a growing digital ecosystem where influencers are promising their young male followers success in sex, status and money.
Over the course of 90 minutes, Theroux follows key figures from across the ‘manosphere’, an virtual network which trades in podcasts, social media interactions and coaching services. Harrison Sullivan, better known as HS Tikky Tokky, is 23 and already fluent in the language of internet self-mythology. He urges his fanbase to ‘escape the Matrix’ (a reference doing some heavy lifting in this film) and to buy into his version of success. In practice, that success often involves promoting shady investment schemes, where he profits whether his audience wins or loses.
Alongside Harrison, Ed Matthews built his following on TikTok and YouTube and plays a supporting role of sorts. He is described by Theroux as the Robin to Sullivan’s Batman. Ed’s platform is based on a mix of gym culture, laddish banter and conspiratorial thinking. He recently pivoted into live-streamed ‘predator stings’. These confrontations often end in public humiliation and sit uneasily between content creation and performative vigilante justice.
Justin Waller brings a more corporate polish. A businessman and self-styled success coach from Louisiana, he promotes subscriptions to ‘The Real World’, a Telegram-based platform framed as an ‘online university’. Its links to Andrew and Tristan Tate bring both notoriety and scrutiny. In fact, the whole enterprise carries an air of controversy that it does not exactly try to shake. Finally, there is Amrou Fudl, known as Myron Gaines. He is a former Homeland Security agent turned full-time streamer. He is one of the more articulate proponents of the ‘red pill’ ideology who argues that men are being systematically misled about gender relations.
Taken together, these figures form a loose but influential corner of the internet, part self-help industry, part performance, part hustle culture. Much of the programme’s momentum rests on Louis Theroux doing what he has built a career on, asking simple questions and then getting out of the way. He does not argue so much as gently persist, inviting his subjects to explain themselves, so that they occasionally unravel in real time.
Women appear less frequently on screen as the documentary progresses, but those Louis manages to speak to offer a revealing counterpoint. Kasey, Harrison’s girlfriend (a term that is flexible at best), initially comes across as young, polished and along for the ride. But that impression does not quite hold. Of all the women interviewed, she is the most aware of the arrangement. She features in Harrison’s own online content, building her own following alongside his, and does not miss an opportunity to plug her own handle when chatting with Theroux. When asked about her favourite thing about Harrison, she smiles and answers, ‘money’. Then there is Harrison’s mother, Elaine, whose appearance is somewhat timely. She expresses disapproval of her son’s views but falls short of holding him accountable. As Louis’ questions edge closer to uncomfortable territory, she retreats from mild critique and turns to defensive mode.
Both Myron and Justin are notably open about promoting ‘one-sided monogamy’, a set-up in which women are expected to remain exclusive while their male counterparts are not. However, Angie, Myron Gaines’ girlfriend, offers a different perspective. She maintains that Myron off-camera is not the same as his online persona. This is a familiar refrain across the influencers’ partners. Yet when Theroux raises Myron’s comments about wanting multiple wives, her confidence falters. ‘I do not know about that,’ she admits. It is here that Myron steps in and shuts the conversation down. Still, the moment lingers, implying that this is something she might be processing. Not long afterwards, Angie and Myron reportedly separate.
Justin Waller’s partner, referred to as his ‘wife’, Kirstin, presents the clearest example of this dynamic in practice. She is a former X-ray technician and mother of two, with another on the way. They have their ‘lanes’. She manages the home while he works. As long as he is honest about his affairs, she says, this is a system that works. This is a pragmatic reasoning but not without issues. Here is a woman with a skilled professional background, now in a relationship where the emotional and financial risk appears unevenly distributed.
In terms of visual aesthetic, Director Adrian Choa and DOP Niall Kelly keep things simple. In podcast studios, rented houses and casual offices, the camera work stays steady and observational. The focus is often placed on the subjects’ reactions, letting their emotions or awkward silence speak louder than dialogue. This stillness draws attention to the central question: who are these men when they are no longer in control of the narrative?
In one key moment, Theroux disrupts Harrison’s performance eliciting a reaction that's telling. Harrison begins speaking as if addressing his online audience - confident and rehearsed, talking down Louis’ lens as though filming for his own channel. That is until Theroux asks who he is talking to. This is a small comment but it throws him. Harrison turns from the camera, and his tone shifts defensively. When that control is taken away from these men at several points by Louis, the ‘guru’ act slips, revealing aggression, discomfort or, in some beats, fear. But certainly not authority.
By focusing on these fascinatingly flawed individuals, Louis Theroux: Inside the Manosphere gives an intimate picture of an online culture built on personal branding, persuasion and performance. But it is a world too big for a single film to cover. With ample potential to be expanded in a longer series, this raises wider questions about as to struggles with identity and connection across a whole generation.
Many of these influencers and their followers express frustration, even anger, at multiple points. In this modern capitalist society, they are struggling to find their place. Yet rather than questioning the wider systems and reshaping their lives, the focus of these men shifts closer to home. They assert themselves at the cost of the women in their lives, and those who are actually present and supportive. Perhaps it is easier to blame what is visible than to confront what is not, particularly how the absence of positive male role models might have shaped their own lack of self-worth.
Instead of challenging the structures they believe have failed them, these men reinforce them, buying into the same ideas of power and success that shut them out in the first place. That is where the documentary lands: in following the loudest voices, these influencers and their followers move ever further from the stability and purpose they chase.
Louis Theroux: Inside the Manosphere is available to stream on Netflix now.
