In Inside the Manosphere, Louis Theroux dives into the growing community of “manfluencers”—influencers whose brands thrive on promoting misogynistic and male-supremacist ideologies. The Netflix documentary, arriving at a critical moment in the masculinity debate, attempts to uncover the world of online male supremacy, but it risks presenting a glamorized version of the movement while sidestepping the dangerous and harmful realities it perpetuates.
The term “manosphere” refers to a collection of online spaces, influencers, and communities that espouse extreme anti-feminist views, promoting a worldview that encourages male superiority. Theroux follows prominent figures within this movement, exploring how they’ve curated online identities to project power, wealth, and authority. These figures, often selling “solutions” to young men’s anxieties about gender, sexual success, and status, have amassed large followings by pushing a brand of masculinity that is both performative and exploitative. The documentary takes a brief but illuminating look into this “manfluencer” economy, showing how these influencers create profitable brands by capitalizing on the fears and insecurities of their male audiences.
At the heart of the manosphere’s philosophy is the notion of the “red pill”—a term derived from the 1999 film The Matrix. In manosphere circles, the red pill represents an awakening to what these influencers believe are the hidden truths about gender and power relations. These beliefs often revolve around the idea that society is stacked against men, with mainstream institutions, such as feminism, working to obscure the “true” rules governing gender and success.
However, Inside the Manosphere fails to fully unpack the implications of this mindset. While Theroux does touch upon the idea of men needing to earn their worth in society, he doesn’t explore how this competitive, hierarchal view of masculinity exacerbates the mental health struggles of young men who internalize these beliefs. Instead, the documentary relies on stylized visuals and aspirational aesthetics—slow-motion shots of influencers in gyms or driving high-performance cars—presenting their toxic masculinity through the same aspirational lens that drives their popularity.
This approach risks trivializing the real-world harms associated with the manosphere. While Theroux’s documentary does highlight the commercial success of these influencers, it often feels more like an entertainment feature than a serious exploration of a growing ideological movement. The flashy visuals and upbeat music obscure the dark reality of the misogyny and violence that have been fueled by these ideologies. The documentary rarely pauses to interrogate the harm that is done to both men and women when these harmful ideas permeate online spaces and real-world interactions.
One of the documentary’s most significant oversights is its failure to recognize the historical roots of the misogyny seen in the manosphere. The ideas promoted by modern “manfluencers” are not new; they are part of a long-standing tradition of anti-feminist thought and men’s rights movements that predate the internet. By failing to acknowledge these historical precedents, the documentary misses the opportunity to show how these ideas have evolved over time and why they remain so persistent. Recognizing these roots would help contextualize the current rise of misogynistic thought online, giving viewers a deeper understanding of how these ideas gain traction and spread.
By focusing on a narrow group of high-profile influencers and presenting their lifestyles as aspirational, the documentary inadvertently becomes part of the attention economy that fuels the manosphere. In the world of social media, visibility equals power, and the more controversial and provocative the content, the more likely it is to go viral. The documentary’s focus on the flashy, performative side of the manosphere risks contributing to the very spectacle it claims to critique, thereby amplifying the voices of those who profit from misogynistic rhetoric.
Theroux’s superficial portrayal of the manosphere fails to capture the scale and danger of its influence. The rise of these male supremacist beliefs is not just an online phenomenon but one that has real-world consequences. Misogynistic ideologies promoted by these influencers have contributed to a rise in violence against women, as well as mental health issues among young men who feel trapped by unattainable standards of masculinity. By downplaying these dangers and focusing on the aspirational aspects of the movement, Inside the Manosphere misses the opportunity to provide a nuanced, critical examination of the forces driving this harmful trend.
In the end, Louis Theroux’s documentary, despite its intention to expose the toxic underbelly of the manosphere, ultimately contributes to the very system it seeks to critique. By prioritizing spectacle over serious scrutiny, it risks misleading viewers about the true nature of the manosphere and its impact on society. While the documentary offers valuable insights into the commercial logic behind the rise of these “manfluencers,” it fails to fully interrogate the deeper, more troubling implications of their beliefs. In doing so, it misses a crucial opportunity to challenge and dismantle the harmful narratives that have found a home in online spaces and are now threatening to shape the future of masculinity itself.
