Louis Theroux’s Manosphere documentary is more terrifying than Adolescence
Louis Theroux’s Manosphere Documentary Is More Terrifying Than Adolescence
Late into the night, I settled in to view Netflix’s Louis Theroux documentary, Inside the Manosphere, after getting my energetic children into bed. Though the subject matter resonated with my sons, aged 8 and 10, the film was far from suitable for family viewing. It brimmed with profanity, prejudiced views, and unsettling displays of cruelty.
Within the first minute, I heard alarming statements such as, “A man who’s not dangerous will never be seen as successful. You can’t be a little b***h,” “Men versus women. It’s an attack on masculinity,” and “If your b***h goes to a club when you said no, destroy her f***ing life.”
“A man who’s not dangerous will never be seen as successful. You can’t be a little b***h.”
“Men against women. It’s an attack on masculinity.”
“If your b***h is going to a club when you said no, destroy her f***ing life.”
By the time I reached the halfway mark, I felt no relief. Instead, I was gripped by dread, watching the film’s portrayal of a toxic form of masculinity that’s seeping into the digital realm. The thought that this mindset would soon infiltrate my sons’ lives was deeply unsettling.
Earlier this year, I had been horrified by Adolescence, a fictional tale of a radicalized teenager who stabbed a classmate. I comforted myself by believing it was just a story. But the real-life misogynists featured here—Harrison Sullivan (HSTikkyTokky), Myron Gaines, and Nicolas Kenn De Balinthazy (Sneako)—felt alarmingly authentic.
These men, with their wealth and public presence, seemed to relish teaching young boys that success and respect stem from devaluing women, spreading hatred, and belittling others. I watched in horror as they dismissed a woman’s worth to her “vagina and titties” and mocked another for her weight, while espousing antisemitic conspiracy theories.
Theroux, a father of three sons, served as the ideal narrator for this unsettling landscape. His usual approach is to step back, allowing his subjects to reveal their worst traits. With his middle-aged, mild-mannered, and bespectacled demeanor, he stood in stark contrast to the rugged young men he interviewed, who clearly lacked depth in their thinking.
There were fleeting moments of hope, like when Theroux spoke with Sullivan’s mother. She scolded her son for his sexist views, seeming baffled that he could so confidently belittle women with minimal exposure to them. It disturbed me to see how quickly individuals with typical maternal roles could descend into such harmful behavior.
Notably absent was Andrew Tate, the manosphere’s prominent figure. Though I live in Bucharest, Romania, my friends have spotted him driving his sports cars or zipping around in his flashy vehicles. Whether in person or on screen, such influencers are intensifying their push against the values I hope my sons will embrace.
At eight and ten, my sons are deeply susceptible to the image these men project. Their materialistic lifestyles—cash piles, Mediterranean villas, parties with friends, and the allure of attractive women—feel irresistibly enticing to young boys. These chauvinists often project a “cheeky chappie” charm, similar to the YouTubers my sons admire, like gamers Foltyn and Ali-A, or MrBeast, who has faced his share of controversy.
While I aim to filter out hate speech and harsh language from their online content, the task grows more challenging. Even videos marketed as family-friendly carry a laddish vibe that my sons eagerly imitate. To me, this feels like a potential stepping stone toward a dangerous trend.
In short, these figures hold a cultural appeal with my sons that I, as their mother, can’t match. I strive each day to shape them into respectful individuals who reject bigotry, homophobia, and bullying, while valuing education and hard work. But after watching this film, I’m left unsure how to counter the manosphere’s influence. The programme revealed a terrifying reality that’s hard to ignore.
