The recent Netflix hit series Adolescence crystallised growing public concern about the proliferation of male supremacist beliefs targeted at young men. So Inside the Manosphere, Louis Theroux’s new documentary for the same platform, arrives at a critical moment in the masculinity debate.
Inside the Manosphere sets out to explore a group of prominent “manfluencers” who promise young men status, wealth and sexual success through a worldview shaped by misogynistic and male-supremacist beliefs about gender and power.
By crafting a stylised storyline that focuses on the few people benefiting from this phenomenon, the documentary risks presenting an idealised portrait of the manosphere that downplays the insecurity, hostility and exploitation that sustains it.
Despite moments of scrutiny, this documentary’s glamorisation of its subjects (epitomised by a slow motion shot of one subject stepping out of a sports car) renders the interrogation superficial. In other words, the show presents performative, profit-driven masculinity through the same aspirational lens that fuels these figures online appeal.
In doing so, Inside the Manosphere simplifies the vast range of misogynistic and male-supremacist attitudes, beliefs and identities circulating online and downplays the sheer scale of the harm caused by it.
What the documentary reveals
While this documentary is limited in its portrayal, it does offer viewers a glimpse behind the curtain of a growing “manfluencer” economy.
In following around several notable figures, Theroux places a spotlight on how these influencers carefully curate online identities that project moral authority, financial success and masculine credibility. And all while functioning as lucrative personal brands built on selling solutions to the anxieties of their audience. In this way, Theroux exposes the commercial logic that is driving the rise in extreme misogyny, where provocation, controversy and algorithmic engagement translate directly into profit and visibility.
The film also introduces viewers to the notion of “the red pill”, a metaphor borrowed from The Matrix (1999). This is widely used in manosphere spaces to describe an awakening to what some believe are the hidden truths governing gender relations and social power.
Through his exploration of the red pill idea, Theroux repeatedly stumbles upon an idea at the crux of what makes this worldview so exploitable: that men need to earn their worth in society. The red pill worldview frames modern society as hostile and stacked against men, portraying mainstream institutions and feminism as forces that have obscured the “true” rules governing gender and status.
In response, the red pill philosophy reframes masculinity as a competitive hierarchy that must be continuously navigated and optimised. By casting masculine value as something that must continually be earned, followers are left striving to keep up with ever-shifting standards of status and success. Meanwhile, influencers profit from offering the supposed path to achieving them.
Although the documentary repeatedly brushes against this critical dynamic, it rarely pauses to interrogate its significance, nor the harms these masculine norms produce, including the mental health struggles of those who internalise them. As a result, it falls short of the kind of sustained scrutiny that Theroux himself has argued is what gives spotlighting such figures its social value.
Instead, this documentary portrays the manosphere through a stylised and aspirational aesthetic. Slow-motion shots of his subjects in the gym, driving high-performance sportscars, wearing expensive watches and living in luxury apartments frame these influencers’ lifestyles with a cinematic sheen.
This means the show echoes the same aspirational aesthetics that underpin much of these influencers’ own branding. Elsewhere, clips of manfluencer content appear against stylised backdrops of red and black binary code over-dubbed with synth-wave music. This has the effect of rendering the content closer to internet theatre than a harmful ideological phenomenon.
The result risks trivialising the gravity of the misogynistic and male-supremacist ideas being promoted. Rather than showing how this booming economy has contributed to the normalisation of misogynistic ideas that have inspired mass violent attacks, and violence against women and girls, this documentary risks misleading viewers that the manosphere is no more than an entertainment culture.
The narrative framing of this documentary becomes clear in the way Theroux himself describes the manosphere’s composition, origins and ideological epicentre. Far from being largely made up of “relatively uncontroversial comedians and podcasters”, the manosphere encompasses a far broader network of forums, content and communities united by an anti-feminist and male-supremacist worldview.
While the misogynistic beliefs and male oppression narratives commonly seen online seem new due to their crossover with modern lifestyle, fitness, financial and entertainment cultures, these ideas did not originate with contemporary influencers, as Theroux suggests. Rather, they draw on much older traditions of anti-feminist thought.
These include “men’s self-help” movements centred on reclaiming declining masculine identities and political men’s rights movements that predate the internet. Recognising these historical roots is important because their familiarity makes these ideas more resonant and persistent.
While Theroux’s characterisation appears intended to justify the documentary’s focus on manfluencers, it inadvertently falls into the very trap that allows manosphere content to proliferate online: its ability to hide in plain sight.
The attention economy
How this documentary portrays the manosphere matters, not just for how it informs viewers, but for how it interacts with the forces that feed the phenomenon itself. On the internet, attention functions as the most valuable currency. Content that is provocative and engaging spreads quickly, rewarded by social media algorithms and amplified by cycles of debate and outrage.
In attempting to place a spotlight on the manosphere, this documentary becomes entangled in the spectacle that sustains it. The danger is that viewers may come away with a clear understanding of the style and aspirations of the manosphere. But they are left in the dark as to its harmful effects both to young men and women – and how this harm occurs.
As a result, Inside the Manosphere further fuels the attention economy that allows these figures to thrive. In these spaces, visibility equals power: controversy attracts clicks, clicks drive engagement, and engagement extends the reach and legitimacy of the ideas themselves.
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