Filmmaker Alex Gibney’s new documentary, Musk, takes an unusual approach to portraying one of the technology industry’s most visible and consequential executives. Elon Musk did not agree to an interview for the film, so Gibney’s team assembled a simulated interview using Musk’s public comments and audio recordings, placing those words in an avatar designed for the documentary.
Gibney described the decision in an interview with WIRED ahead of the film’s nationwide theatrical release on Friday. The director said the project took four years to make and ultimately became a nearly four-hour documentary, including a 10-minute intermission.
The approach turns an access problem into a formal choice. Rather than present the simulation as a substitute for a newly recorded conversation, the film uses Musk’s existing public statements as a through line. Gibney said the idea connected cinematically with Musk’s frequent discussion of simulation.
Building a portrait without direct participation
A documentary about a powerful public figure usually benefits from some degree of cooperation from its central subject, even when the relationship is adversarial. Without it, filmmakers must rely on archived material, reporting and interviews with people who have direct knowledge of the subject.
Gibney said that speaking to people around Musk was difficult because of what he characterized as a high perceived risk in discussing Musk candidly. One early exception was Musk’s father, Errol Musk, whom Gibney said agreed to be interviewed immediately.
The completed film includes interviews with a range of people from Musk’s personal and professional orbit. According to the WIRED interview, participants include Musk’s first wife, Justine Musk; his former girlfriend Ashley St. Claire; journalist Kara Swisher; LinkedIn cofounder Reid Hoffman; WIRED global editorial director Katie Drummond; and WIRED journalist Zoë Schiffer.
That collection of sources gives the film a broad set of perspectives, but it does not mean every view can be treated as definitive. Documentary interviews are shaped by what participants know, remember and choose to disclose. A simulated interview based on archival material adds another layer: it can make a narrative more immediate while requiring viewers to remain clear about the origin of the words and the constructed form in which they appear.
The simulated-interview decision
Gibney said his team drew from everything Musk had said publicly, using real words and actual audio recordings in an avatar. The stated purpose was not simply to fill screen time. It was to create a cinematic through line for a film whose central subject would not sit down with the director.
The choice also reflects a wider media question: what does an interview mean when a public figure has already produced an enormous archive of speeches, posts, appearances and recordings? New generative and synthetic-media tools make it increasingly possible to reorganize or visually restage that archive. But the tools make provenance and editorial disclosure even more important.
In this case, the source material described by Gibney is Musk’s own public record, while the visual presentation is a designed simulation. The distinction matters because viewers may naturally experience an avatar speaking in an interview setting as a fresh exchange. Clear framing around the use of archival words and recordings helps preserve the boundary between a documentary reconstruction and direct participation.
A film about mythology and power
Gibney described Musk as a critical portrait of the Tesla and SpaceX chief executive. He said the documentary examines the role of self-promotion and personal mythology in Musk’s public stature and in the market perception of his companies.
Musk’s prominence makes that subject unusually large. He is a figure associated with electric vehicles, commercial spaceflight, social media and artificial intelligence debates, while his statements can themselves become market-moving events. A documentary about him therefore sits at the intersection of technology, business, political influence and celebrity culture.
The interview also points to the practical difficulty of making films about current power. Gibney said it took considerable persuasion to secure many appearances. That dynamic is not unique to this production: people connected to highly influential figures often weigh reputational, legal and professional consequences before going on record.
What viewers should watch for
As Musk reaches theaters, its most distinctive feature may be the way it treats unavailable access. The film’s simulated interview is built around material that already exists in public, but it is presented through a deliberately constructed audiovisual device.
That makes transparency central to how the technique should be assessed. The value of the device depends on whether audiences can understand which elements come from Musk’s recorded statements, which are editorially selected and arranged, and which are visual reconstruction. The film’s wider argument will be judged on its evidence and its participants’ accounts, but the simulated format is likely to draw particular attention in an era increasingly shaped by synthetic media.
For Gibney, the format appears to be both necessity and theme: an attempt to tell the story of a person who declined participation while using the public persona that person has already built. The resulting film offers a case study in how documentary makers may adapt when direct access is unavailable, and in the responsibilities that accompany those adaptations.
This article is based on reporting by Wired. Read the original article.
Originally published on wired.com
