‘The Dropout’ unmasks Elizabeth Holmes
This review contains spoilers.
In an early scene of Hulu’s new original miniseries “The Dropout,” a young Elizabeth Holmes (Amanda Seyfried) happily dances around her bedroom in front of a poster of Steve Jobs. She gazes up at her idol with an expression that begins as awe but shifts into something with more intent, belying a preternatural determination masked by her teenage exterior. Holmes wants more than anything for the world to perceive her as a genius like Jobs or Mark Zuckerberg, but the first three episodes, which premiered March 3, suggest that the cultural canonization of a genius is determined more by image than ability.
The series is based on a popular ABC News podcast that recounted the meteoric rise and ignominious fall of wunderkind entrepreneur Elizabeth Holmes, founder of the now infamous biotechnology company Theranos, which misled millions with revolutionary at-home blood testing devices that were revealed to be nonfunctional.
The journalistic basis of the series lends credibility to the incredible mini-series onscreen proceedings. Additionally, the facts are displayed incredibly clearly and methodically in this extreme dramatization while not sacrificing important character development and narrative arc.
Since her highly public trial, Holmes has come to embody a cartoonish image in the public perception: an absurdly camp comedic cross of Steve Jobs-esque black turtlenecks, clownish hair and makeup styling that would rival the Joker and, of course, that infamous, affectedly deep voice. Show creator Elizabeth Meriweather is less interested in poking fun at this caricature in what could doubtlessly have been an entertaining farce instead choosing to delve into this fascinating personality with an empathetic approach that encourages fan identification with Holmes without endorsing her actions.
In “The Dropout,” Holmes, even as a high schooler, voices her desire to be a billionaire but also claims to want to change the world for the better. The series deftly explores the extreme contradicting pulls of altruistic intention and monetary demands. The second episode is filled with exciting scenes of Theranos’ attempts to court signifcant funding from venture capitalists and pharmaceutical companies and the writing wisely employs montage sparingly, favoring grounded scene work instead.
The story of Elizabeth Holmes, as dramatized in “The Dropout,” is, at intervals, entertaining and thought-provoking during the first three episodes of what will be an eventual eight-episode long miniseries but would have translated better as a feature film.
The narrative too often rambles rather than races, the pilot in particular drags and each episode offers only a few truly potent, nail-biting scenes apiece amid the tepid contextual details that make up the rest of the episode. Anyone who has seen “The Social Network,” a similar tragedy of a socially inept would-be tech god, will miss the breakneck pacing and pressure-cooker high intensity that can be achieved more readily in the film format.
The ever-radiant Seyfried is not an obvious choice for the generally unkempt Holmes. Unfortunately, her winsome movie star appeal at times undermines the interesting scrappy underdog quality that made Holmes such an unexpected success. Frankly, she’s a bit too pretty, but despite the initial shock of seeing a former Plastic of “Mean Girls” fame playing an awkward wallflower, Seyfried sells it.
Her vocal work imitating Holmes’ mannerisms is variable, noticeably dipping in and out depending on the scene. But Seyfried was tasked with the difficult job of imitating Holmes’ odd voice. Still, the shows emotional characterization of a fundamentally insecure, young woman is believable and stays consistent throughout. She wonderfully captures the character’s iconic fumbling awkwardness; in early interactions with peers as a student at Stanford, her inability to connect with others offers an explanation for, or perhaps rather a symptom of, her ravenous ambition.
A large supporting cast elevates Seyfried’s anchoring performance; a mixture of familiar television faces like Laurie Metcalf, Elizabeth Marvel and William H. Macy and equally capable, lesser-known actors, such as standout Nicky Endres — who brings needed shrewdness and sympathy to a small part — fill out the increasingly disgruntled orbit around Holmes. The ensemble provides comic relief through kooky yet very believable characterizations as well as emotional heft in seeing how the unlikely leader Holmes won over people of all sorts, from her parents and professors to investors and cancer patients, all with huge dreams and each recieving sky-high promises.
While Holmes herself never lived up to the persona she created for the world, the series’ deconstruction of this image it makes for a compelling exploration of the myth making that goes into constructing a genius. Can you change the world without changing who you are?
Rating: 3/5