Life
Television review: The Tinder Swindler
Beware the prince of diamonds, bearing emojis and whisking you off on his private jet
February 17, 2022 07:49
Beware the prince of diamonds, bearing emojis and whisking you off on his private jet
February 17, 2022 07:49
Netflix | ★★★★✩
I met my wife the traditional way. I don’t mean in the “widowed wealthy butcher asking her poor milkman father” manner. Rather, I saw her at a bar and thought she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Then she snogged my best friend.
That probably sounds quite quaint to any younger readers, what with the subsequent invention of smart phones and dating apps. And having recently watched The Tinder Swindler, I’d have to agree. I had no idea it was so tough out there. Reaching the end of this documentary, the thought of having to deal with constant selfies and emoji fluency and profile bios, let alone the ignominy of the rejection swipe, left me clinging desperately to my wife like a limpet.
This is the definition of must-see television, the only documentary to ever top Netflix’s worldwide most-watched list, not just for the jaw-dropping story and behaviour of its protagonists, but because it’s sure to become part of the cultural landscape, with memes and in-jokes already abounding in the few weeks since its release.
Most of them concern the titular conman, an Israeli called Simon Leviev, formerly Hayut, probably the only example of someone changing their name to sound even more Jewish. Simon’s naff blinged-out selfies, whoppers, and love-bombing vernacular, are hilarious when you’re one step removed, especially when heard with his heavy Israeli accent, but somehow they worked on his victims and the film sets about explaining why.
First time director Felicity Morris obviously had a fair budget, and impressively uses it to seamlessly weave in the trove of whatsapp text, voice, photo and video messages that are Simon’s tools of grift, primarily in creating an rapid sense of false intimacy for his victim to project onto. You can see how it worked so well on Cecilie, an articulate, glamorous Swedish woman, as she talks us through her indoctrination by Disney as to what love is. When her story later appears in the press she receives unfair accusations of being a gold-digger, but in fact the root of her problems is a fairy tale mindset coupled with the digital fairy tale world of Instagram.
Who wouldn’t be flattered when matched with a handsome young man, a prince of a billionaire diamond empire, and offered the chance to be literally whisked off your feet onto a private jet? I’d start shaving my legs now. You probably wouldn’t expect though that after a month together and only meeting a few times, it’d end with you applying for nine credit cards and getting into debt to the tune of £250,000 to help him out with his “enemies” before committing yourself to a psychiatric institution. I’d like to see that ride at Disneyland.
Even though the film is slightly overlong at two hours, there are still many questions that remain unanswered, particularly concerning Simon’s accomplices. Perhaps the movie that is in the works will answer them.
Hopefully it will have a less bittersweet ending though, for here, after Simon reveals his true nasty self, and his victims join forces to claim a revenge of sorts, we learn that he’s now back out there, seemingly on top of the world. Fame begets fame and it’s no longer single women who’re his target for exploitation, it’s us. Love you baby.