Two recent movies have caused early viewers to lower their voices in mixed company, and critics to write around crucial details with acrobatic dexterity. The discourse around “Digger,” the ham-handed Tom Cruise vehicle about environmental disaster and theatrical artifice, has been a little muted, much like its box office numbers. But “You Can See Everything,” the through-the-looking-glass documentary about Elizabeth Holmes and documentary artifice, has become an unlikely pop culture flashpoint, generating more speculation and discussion than any nonfiction film this side of Michael Moore.
Both films have elicited passionate discussion about a subject we’re supposed to avoid at all costs: the spoiler. As in: What constitutes one? At what point are you allowed to reveal them? Who is allowed to reveal them? If an entire season of a TV series drops in one binge-ready chunk, why shouldn’t the sturdy, dedicated viewer be free to shout plot points from the rooftops as soon as they’re done watching.
Believe it or not, some of these questions have vexed humankind since before the internet. (Younger readers, believe it or not, there was a time before the internet). You didn’t want to be the one to ruin the ending of, say, “The Usual Suspects,” or the twist in “The Crying Game.” On TV, of course, there was no binging, streaming, or even DVR, so if you didn’t tune in to find out who shot J.R. on “Dallas,” you had to bury your head in the sand, avoid all media, and wait for reruns. (Spoiler alert: It was Kristin. C’mon. It was 46 years ago.) In a 1973 “Peanuts” comic strip, Lucy, spoiler of all good things, interrupts Linus’ viewing of 1941’s “Citizen Kane” to tell him that Rosebud was the name of Charles Foster Kane’s sled. The nerve.
But today’s incessant media noise has upped the ante. We want to know everything, right now … except when we absolutely don’t. TV shows aren’t just reviewed; they’re also recapped, episode by episode, in minute detail (usually with appropriate spoiler labels). TV creators and filmmakers have become more sophisticated storytellers, increasingly leaving trails of narrative breadcrumbs that lead to big reveals and more opportunity to spoil.
As a viewer, I hate spoilers for the same reason that all viewers hate them. The element of surprise is crucial to any kind of storytelling, and spoilers yank that element away from the viewer. As a critic, however, I never enjoy writing around spoilers. A movie or TV show is a text of sorts, and it’s hard to analyze a text without looking at the whole thing. But generally speaking, I’m a viewer before I’m a critic, and I try to adhere to the viewer’s code of honor. I like the way Richard Brody put it recently in The New Yorker: “My rule of thumb for spoilers is subjective,” he wrote. “I don’t disclose what I was glad not to know going in. And, the better a movie, the more joyful every discovery.” This seems eminently reasonable.
What’s unreasonable are the all-encompassing spoiler lists that TV publicists send out these days, specifying which details critics must avoid. The “spoiler letter” for the HBO series “Life, Larry and the Pursuit of Unhappiness” asked that we not reveal “any plot points, jokes, or surprise guest stars.” Excuse me? No plot points? That would be like writing a restaurant review without mentioning food. In trying to dictate what is and isn’t a spoiler, marketing and publicity teams can make it difficult to describe what makes a show worth watching. Better to apply the aforementioned Brody rule, or, you know, trust us. The movies tend to apply a lighter touch; before a recent advance screening of “You Can See Everything” we were treated to a brief video featuring directors Nathan Fielder and Lance Oppenheimer, who said, in effect: Hey guys, some wild stuff happens in our film, so please try to preserve the pleasure of the moviegoing experience by not spilling the beans. Fair enough.
“You Can See Everything” has been out for only a couple of weeks, well within the amount of time in which interested audiences can demand spoiler discretion. But what about a TV series that delivers a serious “Whoa” moment in its first season, like Apple TV’s “Sugar?” (Spoiler ahead. You’re welcome.) How long should viewers be expected to keep the secret that private detective John Sugar (Colin Farrell) is revealed to be a dashing, very well-tailored space alien? “Sugar” premiered in early 2024. Season 2 ended three months ago. You’ve had about two years to discover or avoid the secret of “Sugar.” At this point I’d say the onus is on you. Then again, “Citizen Kane” had been out for more than 30 years when Lucy spoiled it for Linus, and his outrage somehow seemed justified.
In other words, this is not a science. Navigating and disclosing spoilers is a matter of common sense and courtesy, both of which, it must be said, seem to be in short supply these days. Of course, if you really don’t want the “You Can See Everything” twist spoiled, there is one surefire solution: Go see the movie.
Chris Vognar can be reached at chris.vognar@globe.com. Follow him on Instagram at @chrisvognar and on Bluesky at chrisvognar.bsky.social.