The Dropout

Creator: Elizabeth Meriwether
Starring: Amanda Seyfried, Naveen Andrews, Utkarsh Ambudkar, Michel Gill, Bill Irwin, William H. Macy, Elizabeth Marvel, Laurie Metcalf, Mary Lynn Rajskub, Kate Burton, Stephen Fry, Michael Ironside, Dylan Minnette, Alan Ruck, James Hiroyuki Liao, Camryn Mi-Young Kim, Sam Waterston, Kurtwood Smith, Anne Archer, LisaGay Hamilton, Michaela Watkins, Ebon Moss-Bachrach, Rich Sommer
Release Date: 2022

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

As a child, Elizabeth Holmes drew up a design for a time machine. This is mentioned in the very first episode of Hulu's The Dropout by her father, who still has it proudly framed as evidence of his daughter's propensity to dream big. It's emblematic of an upbringing that stressed no idea was too crazy or obstacle insurmountable if you just kept your head down and moved forward, without a care what anyone thinks. Whether awkwardly running track in high school, determined to finish no matter how far behind she was, or dancing in her room to Alabama's "I'm in a Hurry," with goofy moves that would make Elaine Benes blush, Holmes was always going places. Stopping only to seek approval from the Steve Jobs poster hanging on her wall, she'd tell herself that someday this would be her.   

Elizabeth Meriwether's gripping miniseries that just might be the most fascinating dissection of a modern public tech figure since Mark Zuckerberg was picked apart in The Social Network, and it's only after watching all 8 episodes that you can fully appreciate the opening ones, knowing what's coming. This is the ultimate supervillain origin story because it starts so innocuously, as the socially awkward, relatable Holmes comes off very likable at first, but with just enough quirks and personality deficiencies to do a double take, as we slowly become aware of the seeds being planted for trouble down the road. 

Holmes would undoubtedly appreciate that there's probably an alternate timeline somewhere in which she's as successful as her hero Jobs, an iconic, groundbreaking innovator who made products that transformed how we live. And therein lies the kicker. Her idea was good enough to have changed the world, if only it worked and she possessed lacked the knowledge, leadership and personality to do this. Meriwether doesn't let the believers and enablers off the hook either, knowing the true victims aren't  executives taken in by her charms and looking to bolster their bottom lines, but sick patients unknowingly endangered by lies and faulty technology. It would be a Shakesperean tragedy if only she had the self-actualization to realize what went wrong. Instead, the fallout destroys everyone and everything else, arriving at the Theranos founder's doorstep last. 

A mind blowing Amanda Seyfried not only delivers an endlessly layered, Emmy-worthy biographical portrayal, but somehow convinces us this ambitious, determined and somewhat flaky girl would later morph into a total enigma, all while strangely remaining entirely recognizable. The emotional and physical transformation she undergoes is both frightening and empathetic, painting a portrait of this lifelong overachiever with sociopathic tendencies who doesn't know when to say when, barely registering an inkling of the destruction she's caused. Elizabeth's only as aware as she wants to be, stuffing all the pain away to push through at any cost.

Meriwether covers a period from when Holmes was a pre-teen to her 2001 high school graduation and subsequent dropping out of Stanford University, all the way through the 2003 founding and 2018 dissolution of her medical technology company, Theranos. She'd eventually face charges from the Securities and Exchange Commission for defrauding investors and an eventual indictment, but it didn't start that way. Built on the development and distribution a groundbreaking device that could complete an entire battery of medical tests with only a single drop of blood, then 19 year-old Elizabeth Holmes took her revolutionary idea to the street, shoring up financial support from wealthy donors and venture capitalists. The only problem: it never worked.

Despite help from experienced engineers like Ian Gibbons (Stephen Fry), the technology just wasn't there for this to get off the ground. When pharmaceutical companies don't bite, Elizabeth makes the cagey decision to target retail, and when Walgreens shows interest in putting these Edison blood testing machines in their stores, her lies grow exponentially bigger. Upon bringing on her controlling, short-tempered boyfriend, Ramesh "Sunny" Balwani (Naveen Andrews) on as COO to appease an unhappy board, she buries her head further in the sand, working to cover-up the machine's dangerous irregularities while legally threatening anyone capable of exposing it. 

Holmes meets her match in family neighbor Richard Fuisz (William H. Macy), who not only attempts to sue her over a patent but starts feeding information to Wall Street Journal reporter John Carreyrou (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), who stumbles into the story of a lifetime. His whistleblowers come in the form of idealistic Theranos employees Erika Cheung (Camryn Mi-Young Kim) and Tyler Shultz (Dylan Minnette), grandson of stubborn board member and former Secretary of State George Shultz (Sam Waterston). They know something's very wrong, morally and scientifically. But as Holmes' grip tightens and she emerges as a media darling trumpeted by the likes of Bill Clinton, Joe Biden and Rupert Murdoch, Theranos begins drowning in empty promises and lies, all of which will soon be uncovered, along with its fraud of a CEO. 

While the ABC News podcast of the same title this is based upon functioned as a compelling, if slightly repetitive information dump, this adaptation is anything but. Exciting, tragic and even darkly hilarious, Meriwether (with directors Michael Showalter, Francesca Gregorini and Erica Watson) condense all these key events and facts into an easily digestible number of episodes, cutting out the fat to focus on what really matters: The psychological motivations of Holmes, who both does and doesn't fit the typical profile of what the public's perception of a criminal CEO is.

Standing out for its complexity, the script posits that it wasn't just one or two things that created Holmes or led to this giant lie, but rather a multitude of life events that shaped her narcissism and delusion. Some of its timeliest observations concern those who chose to believe her because it felt special to get in on the ground level and appear ahead of the curve. Though the potential dollar signs didn't hurt. Young, smart and pretty, her overall presentation and story was enough for these smitten investors to view the technology as almost an afterthought.

It must work. She told us so. Why would someone pour all this time and effort into nothing? Of course, few would intentionally set out to build a medical device that doesn't function, but Holmes' earliest  declarations that she wanted to become a billionaire was probably the first sign of putting the cart before the horse. Motivations aside, most of the problems started when her idea simply didn't work and she committed to soldiering on anyway with smoke and mirrors, ignoring the potential consequences. 

Whether running tests on a competitor's machines, falsifying data, misleading and defrauding investors or flat-out lying to the board or manipulating Walgreens into putting her Edison devices in their stores, no bridge proved too far for Elizabeth. Rarely asking the most basic of questions or making any concrete demands, the prospect of these executives actually seeing the lab becomes a long-running joke, as Holmes bends over backwards to ensure it never happens. That it doesn't, and for so long, might be the most shocking revelation to come out of all this, with them misdirected to such an extent that they're running in circles to keep up.

Most of the supporting players can almost be categorized into two groups: marks and doubters. For every supporter like Walgreens' Jay Rosan (a great Alan Ruck), who's ready to put the machine in stores right now, there's a Kevin Hunter (Rich Sommer), seeing this for the sham it is. Unfortunately, those sane voices keep getting drowned out by greedier, more powerful ones who have already been taken in. The biggest sucker is board member George Shultz, who'd sooner disown his grandson, Tyler, before acknowledging the blatant evidence of this scam. His excuse later about the lengths a decent person will go  when they believe they're right isn't as applicable to him as he wishes. He's a fundamentally indecent, self-entitled windbag who turns on his own family, but Waterston doesn't play him that way, evoking emotions in the viewer that evoke more pity than frustration. 

Tyler and Erika might be the only two characters who are morally beyond reproach, questioning the right things for correct reasons. Young and with seemingly less to lose, they become Elizabeth's biggest threat, and even as Erika has considerably less cover than the well connected Tyler, he still suffers quite a lot for his honesty. Desperately wanting to believe in Holmes' vision and what it means for their generation's future, no one's more disappointed than them, which proves to be the catalyst for their willingness to bring her down. 

In one of the series' best and most disturbing scenes, Tyler uncomfortably serenades the Theranos founder with a self-penned song at her party, complete with lyrics about the innovators she always dreamed of being mentioned with. Dylan Minnette nails it as a terrified Tyler, with his voice trembling and head down, he looks like a deer in headlights, struggling to get through this, only to have her make him sing it again. By this point, she's guzzling her own Kool-Aid, as if a roomful of guests unironically wearing Elizabeth Holmes masks wasn't already creepy enough. 

With full force, Holmes targets detractors and potential whistleblowers within the company, as Sunny Balwani transitions from her secret, much older boyfriend to company COO and designated hatchet man. The trajectory of this relationship is such that their personal and professional lives become inseparable, eventually creating a legal entanglement where one almost has to turn on the other. It's a far, pathetic cry from how we see their friendship begin when she's just 19, even if there is an odd co-dependent, parasitic element that's present from the start. 

Elizabeth and Sunny are both too hard headed and damaged to really make this work, each of their inferiority complexes in constant battle to retain the upper hand. In what's easily Naveen Andrews' best work since Lost, he depicts a man who appears at first as a zen-like mentoring figure, only to eventually succumb to the power and control he thinks he has in Theranos and over Elizabeth. But he doesn't stand a chance, as she always stays a few steps ahead in the blame game. Her sometimes frightening lack of emotion and empathy serves as both a defensive mechanism and weapon to tear down whomever stands in her path, whether it be Sunny or long suffering, well-intentioned engineer Ian Gibbons, who experiences the worst betrayal of all. 

That Elizabeth never learned how to be herself becomes a recurring thread, as we're given a glimpse into a traumatic event she experienced at Stanford that informed her future behavior to an extent we'll never completely understand. The series wisely doesn't dwell on it because neither did she. And that's exactly the point. It wasn't processed so much as put away in a drawer and buried, informing so many of her actions since. Of course, none of this is presented as any kind of excuse, just one of many components that contributed to the crimes she would perpetrate against those who wanted to believe in her, or at least in the idea of her. 

"Do or do not. There is no try." Those are the words Holmes lived by and took to the extreme, and even if we can acknowledge the obvious adorkability in Yoda being her most worthwhile teacher, it's also kind of sad since so few candidates were better qualified for the position. Certainly not her parents or cantankerous neighbor Richard Fuisz, who spends most of his time loudly whining, complaining and suing over not being asked for advice.  

While the end result of Fuisz's actions can be praised in causing Holmes to finally be held legally accountable, his underlying motivations shouldn't be. An angry, bitter man primarily driven by various shades of jealousy and sexism, he sure is hard to root for. Played with entertaining abrasiveness (and a comically gigantic prosthetic forehead) by an unrecognizable William H. Macy, it's hard to ignore how he patronizingly lectures a young, disinterested Elizabeth in front of her family. 

Even in addressing a self-assured teen who thinks she knows everything, Fuisz couldn't come off any worse, to the point that you can't help but wonder if these kinds of interactions aided in creating the monster Elizabeth became. In hindsight, him tipping off of the Wall Street Journal could be looked at through a less altruistic lens, like a make good for being a part of the problem rather than any kind of helpful solution. In other words, he owed us. 

A more practical, though no less direct approach is taken by Stanford professor Phyllis Gardner (a no-nonsense Laurie Metcalf), who forecasts that Holmes just doesn't have the cognitive or scientific know-how to attempt this. While she does underestimate this girl's determination (and kind of views her as an airhead), you almost have to admire just how accurate she is. We get the impression this probably isn't the first student to come to her with their great idea and won't be the last. It's also likely she's never met a student who made it as far on so little as Elizabeth. Gardner sees what everyone else can't, and much earlier.

Elizabeth's fully aware how much harder this will be for her as a young woman, but rather than double down on work and preparation, all of her energy is poured into the deception. Partially stemming from self-doubt but only encouraged by Sunny's warnings of being liked rather than respected, the previously free-spirited, quirky girl-next-door adopts an entirely new facade. A sort of Steve Jobs cosplay, complete with that trademark black turtleneck. 

Many wondered how Seyfried could possibly replicate Holmes' fabricated deep baritone voice, her most desperately obvious attempt at being taken seriously as a CEO. But knowing better than to attempt any sort of imitation, Seyfried instead captures the tone and incantation, while letting her tense smile and super-sized saucer eyes do the rest. And by avoiding any kind of mimicry at all, she ends up coming closer to what our perceptions of the real person is, regardless of whether or not that's true. 

Seyfried's performance operates on multiple levels, saying one thing while her facial expressions frequently betray that, as the character works hard to convince herself the warped words she speaks are grounded in truth. Living entirely in her own reality, Elizabeth may be complicated, but every facet of what Seyfried brings to this role completely reflects that, as does the soundtrack. 

Leaving little doubt exactly where and when we are, she rocks out to '00 keepers like the Yeah Yeah Yeah's "Y control," Len's "Steal My Sunshine" and Wolf Parade's "I'll Believe in Anything." And that's just the first episode. While these selections probably earn Holmes more indie cred than she actually deserves, it's fun to imagine they pulled her playlist while also providing the story with perfect, period-accurate window dressing. 

The Dropout finishes almost exactly how it began, with Elizabeth running. It hints that through all the mental and emotional gymnastics she went through to suppress the enormity of her crimes, she knows. And with a single primal scream comes that acknowledgment, at least until it's time to shut that all down, put on a smile, and start the whole thing over again. Being at the forefront of what was purported to be a revolution for women in technology, Elizabeth Holmes unfortunately guaranteed a far rougher road ahead for every aspiring female entrepreneur who follows, especially the good ones. The biggest question we're left with is whether she ever cared at all.

Freaky

Director: Christopher Landon
Starring: Vince Vaughn, Kathryn Newton, Katie Finneran, Dana Drori, Celeste O' Connor, Misha Osherovich, Uriah Shelton, Alan Ruck, Melissa Collazo
Running Time: 101 min.
Rating: R 

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

The body swap movie has always been a popular Hollywood standby, going all the way back to such titles as 18 Again!, Vice Versa and even the more contemporarily popular 13 Going on 30. Christopher Landon's Freaky has a unique take on this, adding comedic horror elements and a wildly effective gender flip to the equation. That it comes from the director of the underpraised, Groundhog Day-inspired Happy Death Day is of little surprise, with the two slashers sharing very similar sensibilities.This isn't quite as successful, but after an awkward start where the tone seems to be all over the place, it quickly settles into a groove, emerging more as a standout in a sub-genre where it seems as if everything's already been tried. 

It opens as the Scream sequel we never needed in going so over-the-top and self-referential to start that I half-expected the camera to pull back and reveal a theater full of cheering moviegoers. And when a giant title card reading "Wednesday the 11th" appears on screen, I figured it was only a matter of time. But no, this is all literally occurring, complete with a lanky, hulking figure who resembles Vince Vaughn offing teenagers in an intentionally cheap-looking monster mask stitched together from Leatherface and Michael Myers' leftovers. 

That this is a Blumhouse production makes perfect sense considering Blum himself has been trying obtain the remake rights to Friday the 13th, for which this opening sequence could be considered a trial run. The sequence ends with a clever tennis court kill that would immediately win any skeptic over. So  while still enagaging in a few familar tropes, this at least knows what it is and breaks free in a big way, thanks in no small part to a well-conceived scenario, lots of laughs and two opposing stars who literally and figuratively slay their roles. 

When four teenagers are murdered by the masked Blissfield Butcher (Vaughn), he's able to get his hands on an ancient dagger known as La Dola, the community goes on high alert. Bullied, insecure high school student Millie Kessler (Kathryn Newton) is still reeling from her father's sudden death a year ago, caring for her emotionally dependent, alcoholic mom, Coral (Katie Finneran) while older sister Charlene (Dana Drori), a police officer, dives into her work. After performing as the school mascot at the homecoming game, Millie's cornered alone by the Butcher, as he stabs her in the arm with the mystical dagger. 

With both waking up the next day realizing they've switched bodies, the Butcher now occupies Millie as she finds herself inhabiting the body of this serial killer. Conversely taking full advantage of his 17 year-old girl disguise, the Butcher goes to school and wreaks havoc as Millie, simultaneously shocking and exciting her peers with a dangerous new attitude. Meanwhile, the real Millie attempts to adjust to being stuck in a man's body, while trying to convince best friends Nyla (Celeste O' Connor) and Josh (Misha Osherovich) and crush Booker (Uriah Shelton) what's happened. But she'll need to take possession of the dagger and stab the Butcher by midnight to reverse the curse, or they'll be permanently trapped in the other's body. 

It's kind of a tradition in these movies that the two characters switch bodies due to some magical object they're exposed to, and as much as this film does differently, the script very much sticks to this. Even by those standards, the La Dola dagger that incites the switch is no more or less ridiculous than previous examples of this type of plot device. And no teen slasher could be complete without a central female character who's bullied for being either a "freak," or "loser," deemed undateable for no discernable reason other than they think they are, or maybe simply because it's high school. This can be challenging since the qualities they're looking for when casting an actress for that can sometimes oppose what's required when the cameras start rolling. She'll not only have to be popular and an outcast all at once, but pretend to inhabit the body of a killer more than twice her age and a different gender. 

Kathryn Newton deftly handles all of this as well as anyone could, marking it as a big, star-making outing for her after some rebellious teen turns on TV (Big Little Lies, Halt and Catch Fire) and the big screen (Blockers). While the movie lays it on pretty thick in the beginning to set everything up, it requires massive shifts in attitude and personality at the drop of a hat, providing a great showcase for a rapidly rising actress we'll definitely be seeing a lot more of. Once she does her slo-mo walk through the school's doors as Butcher it's game on, with the results being just as funny and thrilling as its wacky premise suggests. It also opens the floodgates for Millie's antagonists getting theirs, including Ferris Bueller's Alan Ruck, whose brief, but memorable work as an angry, abusive shop teacher is one of the movie's biggest treats, providing a textbook example of how to properly riff on a cult actor's reputation in a modern slasher.

You're initially sort of perplexed at Vince Vaughn's mannerisms as a teen girl, until the manhunt kicks in and he goes on the run, attempting to convince everyone he (or she) isn't what he appears to be. In this regard there are some great physical comedy scenes that revolve around the actor's size, more easily enabling the script to find ways for Millie to unlock the inner and outer strength residing in her, playing on the movie's themes. Because of its genre, and Vaughn's capabilities, this goes further you'd expect, with some highlights including a kitchen brawl with her friends and a great gag involving him bumbling around town in a creepy Aaron Rodgers mask. The height of Vaughn's portrayal comes in a department store fitting room conversation with Millie's mom who's completely unaware she's finally opening up to her own daughter, albeit while stuck in the body of a fugitive killer.   

Much of the third act revolves around comedic misunderstandings and mistaken identity scenarios, as it becomes a race to obtain the dagger and sell Millie's cop sister on the outrageous conceit that the murderer in her crosshairs is actually Millie. The ending is kind of a mixed bag in that it engages in something all slashers do, if rarely so blatantly. Given this is a parody of sorts, Landon gets away with it, even if you can't help but think there's an excised scene somewhere that clarifies a huge logic leap in the film's final few minutes. If it plays fast and loose with the rules even by horror comedy standards, Landon and co-writer Michael Kennedy earn points for a closing line that's memorable enough for them to deservedly be fist-bumping everyone in sight.

Freaky picks up steam and doesn't relent, exhausting every available plot avenue with its admittedly inspired twist on a familiar concept. You have to respect its willingness to go all the way with it, daring us to cringe and laugh in discomfort at its absurdity, which is exactly the point. Even if it all makes for a better body swap comedy than self-aware teen horror entry, we already have more than enough of the latter that it shouldn't matter one bit. It's easy to see what sets this apart, and there's little mystery in why fans of any genre would be raving about it.