In Musk, Alex Gibney turns a wannabe Iron Man's own words against him

Those terminally online who have watched the spectacular decline of the platform formerly known as Twitter—or any of Musk’s other boondoggles—will not be surprised by much of the information presented in Musk. A number of his critics, like journalists Katie Drummond and Kara Swisher and authors like Cory Doctorow, chime in with their own observations. But Gibney’s strength lies in assembling a damning case against the wannabe Iron Man from his own words and actions. 

These interview quotes self-incriminate him every step of the way through the documentary, regurgitated by an uncanny-valley Elon avatar (since Musk declined to participate in Gibney’s film). This off-putting mimic is perhaps a fitting mouthpiece for all the lies Musk has spewed throughout his career. Using Musk’s continuous references to video games, Gibney also incorporates various gaming aesthetics and formats to illustrate the scope of damage (like displaying the scores of employees laid off) that will be just as big a part of Musk’s legacy as Grok’s tendency to praise Hitler and render images of women and children in sexualized scenarios.

To round out Musk, Gibney explores just a few ways DOGE bungled its government cutbacks, taking the same ruthless but nonsensical approach Musk made when cleaning out Twitter’s rank-and-file after acquiring the social media company. Musk spends time looking at how different departments were butchered before turning to the obliteration of USAID, which kept children from starving and helped make medications accessible around the world. There will probably never be a final tally for the mass death Musk and his cronies were truly responsible for, as there can only be estimates for how many people will starve to death from this single line-item.

This kind of large-scale ethical emptiness makes Musk a perfect candidate for the Gibney treatment. He isn’t just any Silicon Valley founder. He’s created a cult of personality around his success story, his self-proclaimed brilliance, and his macho posturing. People excitedly show up for Tesla meet-ups and harass his enemies at his command. It’s paid off in systemic ways, granting him more control over who goes to space, which government programs survive, and who gets to say what on the internet. Like the Church Of Scientology, Gibney needed a thorough compilation of evidence to take him on. 

With all that assembled, the filmmaker isn’t just saying the emperor has no clothes, but pointing out that he’s never bothered to wear any. Musk just had the gift of spin and the nerve of someone who never has to worry about losing everything. With that freedom, he could keep joining, tanking, then getting fired from companies until he eventually spun a loss into a windfall. Musk changes his stories to serve his needs, like his stance on AI going from warning to embracing to launching his own. The takeaway from this film is that Musk will continue to spin his deceptive tales to stay in the good graces of a favorable government, one willing to shelve numerous investigations into his companies, and to please fascist tyrants to make more favorable business deals. The myth of the benevolent billionaire was just as much smoke and mirrors as any number of Musk’s product presentations, but now that he actually does have the money, the influence, and the power, he has more in common with supervillains than the heroes he uses AI to look like.