I believe that by now, apart from myself, there isn't a woman, among those who possess even a small platform from which to write and with enough preparation (almost never) or arrogance to talk about everything (almost always), who hasn't felt obliged to write her little thought piece on Theroux's manosphere documentary. Almost always understanding very little and almost always failing to see two fundamental things. 1) Theroux's is a typical media object of the platform era, especially Netflix, a docutainment that is the exasperation of the performative documentary method - and NOT a participatory documentary. It focuses on one point of view, centering the storyteller rather than the narrated, the narrator's presence is intrusive, and the goal is to entertain and achieve a predetermined effect, proving a thesis already established at the outset. The film is not interested in speaking deeply or correctly about the manosphere, let alone studying its subject: the film is interested in entertaining, exactly like the subjects it portrays, and there is no sense in looking for theoretical coherence within it. 2) Exactly as in Adolescence, the 'voices of women' are not 'missing' due to carelessness; they are missing because, exactly like the discourses of manosphere influencers, Theroux's is a discourse about males for males, designed for males who want to feel superior to the manosphere and certainly not to reflect on the problem. (Continued)