True Crime Tuesdays: Apple Cider Vinegar
Review Overview
Performances
10Second-hand embarrassment
8Monstrousness
8Helen Archer | On 18, Feb 2025
It was only a matter of time until Belle Gibson was given the Anna Delvey Netflix treatment. The original Instagram scammer, who lied about having a terminal brain cancer diagnosis and beating it through healthy eating – conning her way into a lucrative book deal with Penguin and an app backed by Apple – shares with Delvey an extreme aversion to the truth, although Gibson was perhaps far more dangerous, dealing, as she did, in life-or-death situations.
That is, perhaps, why it took so long for this dramatisation of her story to be made – it’s all fun and games until someone dies. Based on the book The Woman Who Fooled the World by Beau Donelly and Nick Toscana, the six-part series documents – in a somewhat frenzied, staccato fashion – Gibson’s life (as much as can be known of it), her creation of ‘The Whole Pantry’ brand, and her ultimate downfall.
Billed as “a true story based on a lie”, the series, created by Samantha Strauss, includes all that was in the book, although it fictionalises some characters, who are nonetheless based on recognisable people. The story of Milla Blake (Alycia Debnam-Carey) – told in parallel with Belle’s, in a somewhat less frenzied, more chronological order – is clearly moulded on Jess Ainscough, who provided the blueprint for much of Belle’s scamming. A writer-turned-health-influencer after she was diagnosed with cancer and refused conventional medical treatment, which would have seen her arm amputated, her story – and that of her family – is the real tragedy, something Belle could only imitate.
This is mirrored in the way both strands of the series are told. Milla’s part has a seriousness and gravitas that allows for emotional depth, while the manic energy of Belle’s tale – leaping backwards and forwards in time, ancillary characters appearing then disappearing for episodes at a time – all point towards Belle’s scattershot approach to life, as she picks people up and drops them when they are of no use to her. Her one constant is her long-suffering partner, Clive (Ashley Zukerman), whose motivations for staying with her are explored in a deeper and more understandable way than they were in the book.
It is a complex performance by Kaitlyn Dever, building on her work in The Unbelievable and Dopesick. She perfectly captures the self-loathing, the ruthless ambition, the neediness, the self-pity and self-sabotage, the desperation to be liked, even loved – but perhaps most of all the relentless pathological lying that would make that all but impossible. The cumulative effect builds from second-hand embarrassment to a horrified flinching, an inability to even look at her, like a monster in a horror film. The crescendo builds as her lies unravel and the emptiness at her core is revealed to the world, in the famous 60 Minutes Australia ‘mea culpa’ interview, in which she still refused to take accountability for her actions.
Though the series helps us understand Belle Gibson – via her relationship with her equally unlikeable mother, and her hinted-at childhood trauma – it never lets her off the hook. And though it is powered by an outstanding performance by Dever, it is to its credit that the most affecting moments are those depicting Milla Blake and her family – and the despair of the mother of the 8-year-old boy who never received the money raised for potentially life-saving surgery because Gibson misappropriated it, leaving him to his fate. Apple Cider Vinegar is a tightrope walk – and though there are a few slight missteps, it is ultimately pulled off with aplomb.