It's hard to pinpoint the exact moment the internet filled up with streamers and self-proclaimed influencers spreading misogyny dressed up as dubious advice on fast-track wealth strategies, fitness, self-confidence and romantic relationships. A loud ecosystem fed by figures like Andrew Tate, already charged with human trafficking, rape and organised crime, or Rollo Tomassi, with less media coverage than others in this digital sphere but frequently cited as the intellectual architect of the so-called "Red Pill" culture. The premise is simple, almost arrogant. Society lives anaesthetised by the "blue pill" (we've all seen The Matrix, right?) - a state of collective illusion, passively accepting the mainstream narrative about the men and women’s roles. The "red pill" is the antidote, a disproportionate response to feminism dressed up as intellectual courage. The “raw truth” that only the most lucid can handle. We're talking about the abolition of monogamy (only for men, let's be clear), concepts like "sexual market value" and an egocentric vision of happiness and personal success.
In "Inside the Manosphere", Louis Theroux explores the origins of these beliefs and the real motivations behind these characters. The bait is almost always the same: escaping the “9 to 5”, a peculiar strain of self-love, the promise of financial independence through easy money schemes and, of course, women. Lots of women. The action begins in Marbella, Spain, where streamer Harrison Sullivan, known online as HSTikkyTokky, was in open exile after fleeing the scene of a car crash involving his McLaren on the outskirts of London, leaving behind an injured friend and a court hearing he never attended. The sunny setting is ideal for the "Red Pill" lifestyle. Beach, sports cars, mansions with pools and outdoor gyms. It doesn’t take long until the first toxic moment in the film. Sullivan introduces us to Kacey, another content creator: "This is my dishwasher. My cleaner." She laughs.
The contrasting personalities of Harrison and Theroux gradually draw closer, and through the camera the streamer's daily life comes into focus. His income is (allegedly) generated from financial services and betting tips. Theroux ends up investing £500 in those (I'll let you guess how much he made after two weeks). The days are split between the gym and the nightlife, where everything is content for his thousands of followers. In the same circle, Ed Matthews - a close friend and frequent collaborator - emerges. Their formula seems quite straightforward: the more provocative and daring the content they provide, the more followers, the more exposure, the more fame they get. Together they provoke risky situations, humiliate people - sometimes through physical aggression - challenge social norms in exchange for views, and in doing so become reference figures for young men around the world. "I teach guys to be proper guys." Sullivan's line, but it could belong to any of them.
On the other side of the ocean, in Miami, we meet Justin Waller. With over a million Instagram followers, Waller is the corporate version of these influencers. More polished, more coherent, the kind of figure a distracted father might let through the front door. Openly associated with the Tate Brothers, he connects more radical ideologies with the business world and politics, where he backs the MAGA movement enthusiastically. In his conversations with Theroux, he explains "One-Way Monogamy", gender roles and how a woman's value comes down to her physical appearance. After some pushing, Waller allows his partner into the documentary. Between inconsistencies and hesitations, we get the ideal woman for "red pill" culture: living in the shadow of the male figure, focused on motherhood, submissive in the face of infidelity, exchanged for protection and comfort.
The female perspective deserved more room. Whether due to time, lack of opportunity or the barriers in place, women's voices rarely make it to the centre of the frame. The most uncomfortable moment comes during the Myron Gaines segment, host of the "Fresh and Fit Podcast". His partner Angie is so "loyal" she packs condoms in his bag when he travels. She says she feels no oppression. She accepts. Maybe she even believes it. But body language overrides her words, and the unease in her eyes tells a different story.
Myron flaunts his male chauvinism openly, but the contradictions are hard to miss. He claims to love women while using his podcast to humiliate them. He dehumanises OnlyFans models on live stream while profiting from promoting their accounts. And the prejudice is not unilateral. Homophobia, religious conviction and conspiracy theories all get their turn. The pattern holds across every person in the film, which confirms one of Theroux's central arguments: this is a “grift”. A dirty way to make money.
But what are the real motivations? Where does the hatred actually come from?
One thread connects them all: the absence of a proper father figure while growing up. The documentary doesn't dig deep enough here, and the question is left hanging. Is this performance of masculinity really about success, money and women? Or are we witnessing a global reaction born from the insecurities of a generation that grew up with a smartphone in hand?
We won't find all the answers. "Inside the Manosphere" exposes the phenomenon and plays with their flawed foundations. Theroux makes use of his distinctive style to provoke discomfort, both in the audience and in those he interviews. Outside their own formats, stripped of control, they begin to unravel in the hands of someone who knows what they’re doing. Reactions oscillate between confusion, vulnerability and, at moments, a complete loss of composure. At a time when these movements are converging with political extremism, it’s worth pausing to ask when exactly the algorithm began to orphan morality.
"Inside the Manosphere" was released on March 11th and is available on Netflix.
