Review of Gunther's Millions

Netflix's latest documentary, "Gunther's Millions," a prank that leads viewers by the nose to find a hoax, is as much about tender mercies as it is about legal tender. In fact, three fourths of its content amounts to nothing more than a come-on, a teaser for a tawdry tale about one greedy family's scheme to hide their millions. But the filmmaker elaborates, embellishes to inflict on viewers the same scam that the pharmaceutical tycoon Mauricio Mian has been inflicting on the general public and the Italian government since the 1990s. To arrive at the "big reveal," viewers must first listen to the tedium of amoral poseurs, apparently convinced that they were in the employ of a wealthy German shepherd. One in particular is a spokesmodel whose aim in life seems to be tanning and bead wearing. Either intellectually deficient, unprincipled, or both, these hirelings, eager to prostitute themselves, follow the money. It takes them to "Entertainment Tonight" at Madonna's Miami estate and finally to Italy's pleasure-seekers and lowlifes. Duped into believing they're members of a new pop group or subjects of a sociological experiment, they frolic and romp under the watchful eyes of men in lab coats. Soon enough it becomes obvious to them they're being videotaped as well, but never mind--it's all in service of a greater good: the pursuit of happiness (and also, by the way, creating a master race).

Perhaps the irony of this waste of time dawns on them now, that the good doctor's pursuit wasn't sociological, but economical: in fact, how best to circumvent Italian tax laws. Their shock at discovering this news seems unreal, just as unreal as the supposed intentions behind this show, which begs the question: who's zooming who?