Musk
(USA, 235 min.)
Dir. Alex Gibney
Prod. Alex Gibney, Jessie Deeter, Erin Edeiken, Zhang Xin, Joey Marra, Nick Shumaker, Jessica Grimshaw, Dana O’Keefe, Ronan Farrow, Lawrence Wright
Programme: TIFF Docs (North American premiere)
Spending four hours in the company of Elon Musk might not be at the top of everyone’s to do list this fall, but the self-inflicted torture that is part and parcel of Alex Gibney’s monumental Musk should be required viewing. That doesn’t mean that this epic sits in the “eat your vegetables” variety of documentaries, either. It’s an incendiary five-alarm wake-up call about clear and present dangers and the collective complacency that got us here. As Gibney amasses and synthesizes an extraordinary amount of material while charting Musk’s ascent to power, and corresponding abuses of said power, the documentary builds an overwhelming mountain of doom in the wake of the zaniest supervillain that the world has ever seen.
Musk largely follows a chronological account of the tech titan’s corruption, but Gibney has a good sense of humour to offset the bleakness inherent in the mission. A few recent exchanges between Musk and Gibney on the social media platform X (né Twitter) situate the shitstorm amid Elon’s omnipresent voice and mercurial nature. Musk tweets that Gibney’s film is a “hit piece.” The director replies that he welcomes Musk’s involvement. The tech bro counters that Gibney’s a douche, to which the director wins the argument with a well-pointed “douché.” Musk’s corresponding silence suggests that the being comeback king is one of few titles he didn’t covet.
Musk obviously isn’t a hit piece. Rather, it’s a rigorous feat of reportage and filmmaking alike. Gibney surprises by allowing the Elon Musk story to score some favourable points when merited. Musk’s first wife, Justine, actually has some very kind words about the man during the formative days of their relationship. Former colleagues do remark upon a driven, intelligent, and ambitious figure. It’s just too bad that there’s such a clearly documented account of Elon’s descent into pettiness, idiocy, and malpractice.
The Xitter exchange situates Musk within a unique sphere of documentary. Musk obviously doesn’t participate overtly in the film. However, the nature of life 2.0 allows the man to be part of the conversation even if he declines a formal sit-down. Musk’s unhinged natterings on social media are key to his rise as a Hank Scorprio-style baddie set upon world domination. Moreover, the sheer volume of material that Gibney presents from Musk’s 24/7 self-promotion efforts make clear the transparency of the man’s megalomania. Watching Musk is like observing footage of oneself as the frog in the fabled pot of water slowly heated to a boil.
Footage of Musk’s early days also makes the tale a tragic fable. Young Musk, dabbling in startups and ecommerce, seems like an idealist. Moreover, as he hitches a ride with Tesla and becomes the face of pioneering efforts to innovate electric cars, one gets the impression of a man driven by his commitment to the collective good. After all, anyone who makes cars purely to generate profit already has the cheaper fossil fuel option.
Gibney presents exhibit A through Z to illustrate Musk’s habit of failing upward. It’s the one area where Elon truly excels. He cashes in on gambles that shaft everyone else, including the government. The film chronicles his sketchy start-up dealings like a Wolf of Wall Street-style huckster, while his work at Tesla runs the gamut from stealing credit for other people’s work to committing outright fraud.
His efforts in artificial intelligence up the ante as Tesla’s automated cars purport to be a breakthrough in human efficiency. Ads set to the tune of the Rolling Stone’s “Paint It Black” trumpet a car that allows folks to multitask while driving. Meanwhile, footage from the cars themselves provide first-person perspectives of killing machines on wheels. Gibney finds a persuasive case study about a fatal collision that illustrates how machines simply cannot match the power of the human mind. The segment offers a tragic metaphor for how we’ve all been asleep behind the wheel.
Both remarkable and terrifying is the lengthy glimpse into Musk’s explorations in space travel through Space X. This is where Gibney observes a key shift in the narrative. When the leaders of the space race are the USA, Russia, China, and Elon Musk, that distinction conveys an unfathomable level of power. But as Musk blows up one rocket after another, burning through billions of dollars like a child smashing his toy cars together, the film witnesses little trace of the youthful idealist who fuels Musk’s early days. One sees a man driven by personal notions of conquest and empire.
It’s here that Gibney’s effort to organize the chaos becomes especially chilling. Enter interviewee Ashley St. Clair, a former conservative influencer who had a child with Musk. She provides a key perspective by telling how she declined an enormous amount of child support tied to a non-disclosure agreement. Turning down millions of dollars allows her to help Gibney tie together the personal and private aspects of Musk’s unfettered despotism. She’s but one of many women through whom Musk sired children as he furthers an icky ideology to spread as much of his self-declared superior genetics across the human race. But add baby-farming to a fixation upon colonizing Mars, and Musk equals a dire portrait of a man who’s given up hope for one planet and has an eye for rebuilding another in his likeness.
The personal perspectives feel most damning. Of all the crimes that Musk cites, the worst may be a theft he inflicts upon Justine. Musk tweets about losing their first child in his arms to legitimize his online vitriol, but Justine informs Gibney that she was holding the baby when he died from SIDS. This sort of straight-from-the-horses-mouth evidence forms a pattern. The film asks how and why such public displays in the depths of human cruelty continually work in Musk’s favour.
St. Clair’s relationship with Musk also provides Gibney with key pieces of information, like personal correspondence alluding to election interference and supporting the space lasers conspiracy with StarLink. Cut to a snippet of the James Bond movie Moonraker. Gibney doesn’t need much creative license when it comes to positioning Musk as a Bond-level villain set upon global domination, for Elon’s already done it himself.
However, the film ingeniously underscores the limits of one man’s power by refusing to be impeded by Musk’s unwillingness to participate. In the absence of an interview, Gibney turns the tables on Musk by fashioning an avatar in his likeness. His team feeds Musk’s excessive repository of public commentary into the doc. Musk allows the tech titan to respond in his own words using his vomitous treasure trove of soundbites to build his self-aggrandizing nature.
The technology has obviously come a long way since Gibney tried a similar conceit in Zero Days. Here’s where Musk becomes especially uncanny. It’s only when portrayed by an animated avatar that Musk seems human. The film affords Musk a level of humanity even while it positions him as a boss-level foe in a video game of his own design. If one can find an element of humanity in Musk, even an artificial one, be it a pixel or module of code, then there may be hope at the end of the journey.
Hope becomes a rare commodity in Gibney’s doc, however, as Musk charts Elon’s infiltration of the political system, his manipulation of Trump, and his devastating wave of terror on America and the world through the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE). This is, after all, a man with a well-documented history of burning through companies without care. The film includes voices from both sides of the political aren as Gibney makes clear that this concern is non-partisan.
As Musk culminates with the man obliterating U.S. democratic systems, and avatar Elon basks in the consequences of his power, the documentary leaves one with an overwhelming sense of powerlessness. It may be the most important doc in years, if not also the most distressing one with the totality of its portrait. The insurmountable doom sirens one very effective alarm.
Musk premiered at TIFF 2026.
Get all of POV’s TIFF coverage here.
Check back for our interview with Gibney when Musk opens in theatres this fall.
