Netflix Scammer Series ‘Apple Cider Vinegar’ Loses Valid Points in a Muddled Structure: TV Review

In today’s world, it’s striking to see two television shows under review, both centered around women who falsely claimed cancer battles and gained internet fame – “Apple Cider Vinegar” on Netflix and “Scamanda” on ABC. These shows follow the footsteps of last fall’s “Anatomy of Lies,” a Peacock docuseries about Elisabeth Finch, a writer for “Grey’s Anatomy,” who also fabricated her cancer struggle. The toxic blend of wellness culture, medical misinformation, and social media has given rise to figures like Robert F. Kennedy Jr., who gained political prominence due to vaccine skepticism. This trend has provided Hollywood with a wealth of ideas. However, the downside is that it becomes challenging to create something unique when such themes are so prevalent. Regardless of a powerful lead role, “Apple Cider Vinegar” unfortunately falls into this category.

The mini-series chronicles the story of Belle Gibson, a well-known Australian influencer who fabricated various health issues such as heart troubles, seizures, and Stage 4 brain cancer to sell a diet app. If Gibson could supposedly heal her non-existent illnesses by avoiding sugar, gluten, red meat, and other “toxins,” then so could her followers, according to her pitch. Kaitlyn Dever, the only American in the cast, delivers a remarkably authentic (at least to this American) portrayal of Gibson, complete with an apt accent and the exaggerated hysteria reminiscent of a Chloe Fineman character on “Saturday Night Live.” Following her impressive performances in “Unbelievable” and “Dopesick,” which garnered her an Emmy nomination, Dever has the opportunity to explore comedic aspects here. Although Gibson’s actions were indeed serious, involving fraudulent activities and causing immense distress to her family and supporters, the way her lies unfold can be amusingly absurd, such as asserting she had left medical records that would confirm her diagnosis at her estranged mother’s house. In a humorous twist, it seems even her emotionally distant dog ate her homework!

In 2015, Gibson’s house of cards collapsed, coinciding with the year investigative journalist John Carreyrou started exposing Theranos – a biotech firm whose leader, Elizabeth Holmes, has since become known as a prime example of climbing to the top through deceit. This new series, “Apple Cider Vinegar,” finds itself in the company of heavyweights like “The Dropout,” the acclaimed Hulu production centered around Amanda Seyfried’s chilling portrayal of a sociopath empowered by founder worship. At its finest moments, “Apple Cider Vinegar” echoes familiar themes found in other scammer narratives. However, it sometimes fails to reach its full potential due to a disjointed structure that weakens its overall message.

Written by Samantha Strauss (“Nine Perfect Strangers”), “Apple Cider Vinegar” tells its story in a non-linear fashion, shifting between different time periods. While some scenes depict events after Gibson’s downfall, others focus on her early beginnings and still others are set during her peak. This can make it unclear as to when certain events are taking place, especially since “Apple Cider Vinegar” struggles to choose a consistent framing device.

Gibson opening up to a crisis PR representative could have provided an intriguing perspective; alternatively, two journalists chasing down her lies by interviewing witnesses such as Gibson’s former manager Chanelle (Aisha Dee, from “The Bold Type”) could have offered another compelling angle. However, the plot falls short due to its inability to decisively choose between these options, resulting in a narrative that is less engaging than the individual pieces suggest. For instance, there is little suspense about whether the investigators will be successful because their outcome has already been shown to us.

As a moviegoer engrossed in “Apple Cider Vinegar”, I found myself immersed in a world of fictional characters portraying the devastating consequences of pathological deceit, especially as experienced by the protagonist, Gibson. While these characters serve to illustrate different perspectives, they sometimes blur the series’ main message rather than enhancing it.

Gibson is loosely based on Milla Blake, a fellow cancer blogger played by Alycea Debnam-Carey, who gains popularity by sharing her journey with alternative treatments such as coffee enemas and juice cleanses instead of conventional methods like chemotherapy, radiation, or surgery. Unlike her rival, who starts as a groupie, Milla comes across as more well-intentioned, making her a tragic figure.

However, “Apple Cider Vinegar” offers a critical view of the world Milla enters out of frustration with the medical establishment, which often seems steeped in pseudoscience and conspiracy theories. Yet, Gibson’s actions are so bold that this nuanced critique gets overshadowed.

Yes, Gibson marketed an extremely restrictive diet as a cure for a serious disease. But there’s a significant difference – Gibson didn’t actually have the disease herself, which makes her transgressions less excusable and more ambiguous figures like Blake seem almost innocent in comparison.

A deeper relationship develops between Gibson and her follower Lucy (Tilda Cobham-Harvey), who is battling breast cancer. Gibson’s posts encourage — indeed, persuade! — an already weary Lucy to forgo traditional treatment in favor of ayahuasca retreats and similar experiences. Lucy’s husband, Justin (Mark Coles Smith), one of the journalists, focuses his criticism on Gibson as a less confrontational outlet for his frustration towards his spouse. In a desperate attempt to discredit Gibson, he believes this might convince Lucy to restart chemotherapy. The narrative beautifully portrays the human toll of Gibson’s influence, even when Lucy is occasionally overshadowed by the more prominent characters. However, she provides the most poignant example of the paradox that “Apple Cider Vinegar” emphasizes: lost in a jungle in the Amazon, with the expectation of further wisdom nearby, she swipes her credit card at a payment terminal, a harsh commercial reality disrupting what was meant to be an unmonetized experience.

Gibson remains an engaging yet flawed character, serving as a starting point for exploring why many people, particularly women, are captivated by snake oil salesmanship. Her self-deception is so profound that it appears unique, even though the show attempts to frame her within a broader context. Interestingly, Gibson’s sales tactics seem insignificant when compared to the deceptions of a multi-billion-dollar industry; however, they somehow overshadow the larger issue.

All six episodes of “Apple Cider Vinegar” are now streaming on Netflix.

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2025-02-06 18:19