Alycia Debnam-Careyleft, stars as Milla, and Aisha Dee as Chanelle in Apple Cider Vinegar.BEN KING / Netflix/Netflix
It’s been seven years since Dictonary.com hailed “misinformation” as the word of the year. Yet in a world of rising social media influencers and public mistrust in official sources, misinformation has never been more prevalent. That’s particularly true in the case of health and pseudoscience, as Netflix’s newest series, Apple Cider Vinegar, sets out to prove.
Want to lose weight? Knock back a daily shot of apple cider vinegar. Need milk with more nutrients? Swap the unpasteurized variety with a raw alternative. Feeling sick? Stock up on essential oils. There’s no end to the dewy-faced influencers and everyday folks endlessly scrolling and sharing these posts. But the problem isn’t only that these claims are scientifically unfounded: They can be dangerous or, in some cases, fatal.
Case in point is the story of Belle Gibson, the Australian influencer who created food app the Whole Pantry. In 2013 the 23-year-old told the world she had been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumour and given weeks to live. But when she turned to wholesome foods and natural remedies she survived the fatal diagnosis and skyrocketed to fame. A deal with Apple and a cookbook followed.
Her inspiring and uplifting tale gave cancer patients and everyday people hope. And it was all a lie. In 2015, two journalists uncovered the truth about Belle and her claims. They discovered she’d never had cancer, had historically manipulated those around her and had kept all of the money she’d raised for charity through her platform.
The wild story is made even wilder in Netflix’s dramatized account. Over six episodes creator Samantha Strauss digs into the world of health influencers and the harm their claims can have. This is a fictitious story based on real events with fictional characters and liberties woven in. As each episode clarifies, it in no way profits the real Belle, but it definitely makes you want to jump on your phone and Google her story.
Strauss uses a cheeky, fourth-wall breaking style to introduce each episode before launching into the story of two women: Belle, played by Kaitlyn Dever, and Milla, played by Alycia Debnam-Carey. While Belle’s narrative unfolds similarly to her real-life counterpart, in the series she’s inspired by Milla, who has actually been diagnosed with cancer.
Belle’s tactics are purposeful and meant to enrage the audience, but Milla’s actions come from a place of good intent. Like many influencers out there who are trying to better their communities, Milla’s mission is to help women take their health back into the own hands and push back against a system that treats them like a number. She’s loosely based on Australian “wellness warrior” Jessica Ainscough, who lost her battle with cancer in 2015.
In a way, the earnestness of Milla’s message is even more dangerous than Belle’s. Her faith in natural remedies serves as an underdog story of sorts, and one you want to root for from the second her doctors avoid looking at her while discussing a coming – and life-altering – surgery. The sense of helplessness and the need to regain control is palpable and relatable for anyone who has ever felt as though their body is failing them.
Alternatively, Belle’s journey is fuelled by the need for acceptance and love, even if it comes from a faceless, online community. As she gains fame it’s clear she’ll do anything to hold onto it, including ignoring the real-life people who are present and trying to talk her off the ledge. In that way, the show is as much a commentary on our social media consumption and addiction as it is about the dangers of believing everything you see online. Or, at the very least, failing to fact-check the latest buzzy claim.
Together, these narratives make a solid case for the fight against the spread of misinformation and disinformation. They also remind us that sometimes a desperate need to believe in something can lead us to disregard valid scientists and trained doctors. People can be quick to give others a platform on social media if what they’re selling is pretty enough, compelling enough or packaged in a way we want to hear. But what do we really know about the people behind these accounts, and what will they do to keep that attention?
As a Netflix series, Apple Cider Vinegar’s other intent is to, of course, entertain. And while Belle Gibson is no Anna Delvey, Dever has a solid resume of compelling projects including the heart-wrenching limited series Unbelievable and the coming-of-age film Booksmart. Here, her Australian accent isn’t perfect but it’s very passable, while her layered interpretation of the villain adds nuance and meaning to her jaw-dropping actions.
Debnam-Carey, who comes with her own built-in audience thanks to projects such as The 100 and Fear the Walking Dead is equally compelling, as are supporting characters played by Aisha Dee (The Bold Type), Tilda Cobham-Hervey (I Am Woman), Chai Hansen (Night Sky) and Ashley Zukerman (Succession). Add in a catchy soundtrack, captivating visuals, shifting timelines and artistic transitions and six episodes fly by in a flash. They also leave you with more questions than answers.
Like the real-life people who inspired the show, Apple Cider Vinegar’s characters never openly admit to the harm they’ve caused or their part in the world of pseudoscience. As a result, the show itself doesn’t draw conclusions or go in-depth into the stories of those who were influenced.
In a way, that’s fitting. When we put a message out into the world we don’t always know the effect it will have on others. But as Apple Cider Vinegar reminds us, we can at least be in control of what we consume and the messages we choose to spread.
Sometimes, that starts with the simple act of putting down the phone and putting an end to the doomscrolling.
