One thing that has become apparent in the world of TV is that if Netflix makes it, good or bad, we will watch it. A viral feeding frenzy surrounds Netflix Originals, with an unspoken ‘fear of missing out’ on the new release taking hold of audiences worldwide. Recently, the top picks in the cultural zeitgeist were Introducing Anna and The Tinder Swindler. Real-life Gatsby-esque renditions of illusion, trickery and con-artist behaviours were on full display in both shows. The goal? A luxury life.
While the aspiration of a better life is one we can understand, society has taught us that breaking the rules to get there is not the answer. Our own internal moral judgement, however, is not always so clear. There are a variety of psychological theories to understand the blurred lines when it comes to televised true crime. Public opinion dismantles these shows with the same forensic eye of its latest grifting anti-heroes, leaving behind outrage, empathy, and even lust.
To recap, in The Tinder Swindler a man named Simon Leviev (Shimon Hayut) misled women into believing he was the son of a famous billionaire. Using private jets and designer labels he seemed to be dripping with wealth, with women falling in love with him whilst he was taking their cash. He duped many women out of millions of dollars and this docu-series is told through the eyes of three of those women.
Since the show was released, a free Simon Leviev has signed with a Hollywood agent and has allegedly been in talks regarding a new dating show. He amassed 200K followers on Instagram since the documentary came out, before deleting his account. Leviev has also taken to Cameo where fans can purchase personalised videos for only £147. TMZ reported that “he made $30K within his first three days” on the site.
As for Introducing Anna, Anna Delvey is a supposed German heiress who stood to inherit a $60 million trust fund on her 25th birthday. Delvey used this “fact” to con the wealthy of New York’s elite, staying for free at high-end hotels and scamming a few personal ‘friends’ out of hundreds of thousands of dollars, all to finance the high-rolling luxury life she desired. She was convicted on four counts of grand larceny and remains in prison today.
Delvey received global coverage, from courtroom fashion fame on Instagram to coverage in Vanity Fair and Harper’s Bazaar. Delvey also gained opportunities that are rarely given to a convict, for example a self-written letter to her audience, published in Insider. Countless rumours surround her next step after prison and range from collaborations with Julia Fox, her own line of clothing, or a book deal for the highest bidder. Delvey tweeted: “the only job I’m willing to accept is @GoldmanSachs creative director”. She received a wave of fan adoration, one Instagram follower, queen-zenia86 said: “GIRL FAKE IT UNTIL YOU MAKE IT. And you did. Give me an honest politician and I’ll change my mind.”
Offices, families and friends had split opinions — do we love them or hate them? Why do we find crime compelling? Why do we glorify the impressiveness of their actions while equally condemning their intentions?
Here are a few reasons why we might have fallen for this season’s con artists:
- FOMO
The desire for social cohesion is innate within our psyche. As humans, we naturally want to feel a part of a group or community. One tool to do so is a shared pleasure: Netflix has become one of society’s largest shared pleasures as a global platform providing one the widest ranges of entertainment out there with over 222 million subscribers worldwide. Being a part of ‘the group’ has never been so easy.
- Who Can Resist A Good Story?
Once we are on board, then we are pulled in: take the example of the theory of the good story. Evidence shows that with the right setup, a strong protagonist and a continuous build to a climax for our characters, we will feel the effects of a good story and a healthy dose of adrenaline and oxytocin too. The storytelling itself will activate positive emotions in the viewer, so characters like Anna Delvey or Simon Leviev will gain our affection.
- Identifying With The Characters
You might ask how we could possibly begin to like these characters? A good story is one thing but the next theory takes it a little deeper. When watching television it draws not only from our conscious but our subconscious too. We witness protagonist behaviour with envy and sympathy, explained through character identification. In short, we see ourselves as the protagonist.
Individuals tend to endear themselves with negative characteristics, such as too much intelligence, selfishness, or cunning ambition. By drawing this emotional connection we instinctively humanise the character, sympathise with and understand their goals and inevitably think ourselves capable of the same.
It’s no wonder that after eight episodes we are jealous of the uniqueness of their experience. Character identification is often categorised as a form of escapism in which we liken our traits to vicariously enjoy our anti-heroes ups and downs.
- Being Attracted To The Characters
Hybristophilia, or Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome, is to be attracted to those who have committed or caused outrage and it is most commonly used in reference to fans of criminals or murderers.
There are many theories as to why this phenomenon exists, one of which is that criminals often fall into one of the three categories named the “Dark Triad”. These three negative personality groups are narcissism, Machiavellianism, and psychopathy. We all know a narcissist when we see one, but a psychopath? Not so much.
But the traits that usually overlap in these categories are widely socially desirable, like high self-esteem and charm. They have even been found to be physically attractive because of confidence or impressive appearance, an inflated spectacular facade, maybe wearing Celine sunglasses or a Gucci jacket? Although appearing larger than life they stand out while at first seeming completely normal. But the traits that make a psychopath are also the facets that make them so unusually attractive.
So do we love them? Or do we hate them? Perhaps it is an unexplained attraction towards Machiavellian characters, or our innate projection into their envious rise to riches — maybe we were just along for the story, or enjoying the sensationalist exposure. Either way, the latest instalment of schadenfreude from Netflix did not disappoint.
Words by Christabel Murray
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