Trust No One: The Hunt for the Crypto King squanders its most interesting angle with too much misdirection

Based on the way Trust No One: The Hunt for the Crypto King talks about Bitcoin and cryptocurrency, you’d think it was all a defunct Ponzi scheme everyone found out was a scam years ago, that it was lingering on a last, dying breath. But the fact is cryptocurrency has been a persistent buzzword for several years now, even after the big 2018 crash that kickstarted the sordid tale at the center of this new Netflix documentary film.

If you spend any time on Reddit or social media in general, you’ve undoubtedly heard near-constant mentions and jokes at the expense of “crypto-bros” and NFT-users. Whether you know what those words mean is another question entirely, and one I can’t fully help you with since a lot of it still doesn’t make sense to me either.

Watching Trust No One: The Hunt for the Crypto King detail how many crypto users were defrauded and scammed in 2018, and 2019 feels like a precursor to what will probably happen again (if it’s not already happening) in some form within the next few years regarding NFTs.

This particular scam revolves around Gerald “Gerry” Cotten, co-founder of the Canadian cryptocurrency exchange QuadrigaCX. Throughout the documentary, we find out that Gerry wasn’t exactly the nice guy he was passing himself off to be. He actually founded the company with a formerly convicted fraudster with ties to a shady identity theft ring.

Then Gerry dies, supposedly taking all of the passwords to his grave. But did he really die? Or did he orchestrate an elaborate “exit scam” with the intent to steal millions of dollars from his consumer base? And was his wife, Jennifer Robertson, complicit in his dealings? Did she help him escape?

The second the documentary started talking about Gerry’s wife, I knew it was only a matter of time before misogyny reared its ugly head, and I was proven right. Once Quadriga users started realizing they might have been scammed, they assembled in Telegram’s online forum to start digging into the internet for clues. A mysterious crypto investor going by the moniker QCXINT spearheaded the amateur sleuthing.

When the disgruntled Telegram users realized Gerry might really be dead, they needed a new target and set their sights on Jennifer. Seeing these angry men start calling her slurs and chanting “lock her up!” in an online chatroom starts to make you lose sympathy for them, especially when there is zero evidence Jennifer had anything to do with her husband’s misdeeds.

And that’s where the main problems with this documentary come into play. Most of what is presented here is information readily available online already. Not much of what comes out in Trust No One: The Hunt for the Crypto King is “new” information or evidence. It’s a lot of misdirection to make people believe one thing–like Gerry is alive or Jennifer is complicit—before saying, actually no, none of that is true, to keep you hooked.

If like me, you didn’t know much about cryptocurrency or the sordid tale of QuadrigaCX, you’ll probably find yourself invested, but it does get tiresome eventually with the constant back and forth and shifting narratives.

Trust No One: The Hunt for the Crypto King loses track of its most striking narrative

What I found most disappointing is that there was a much stronger angle in here about the rampant misogyny and dangers of online groupthink and internet conspiracy theories. We’ve seen how unhinged these groups can get with the birth of Q-Anon and incidences that led to widespread Sandy Hook conspiracy theories, the outspoken anti-vax portion of the internet, people who deny climate change, flat-earthers, 5G, etc.

Trust No One: The Hunt for the Crypto King touches briefly on that, with at least one of the documentary subjects noting that those who believe Gerry is still alive will never be convinced. Some want Gerry’s grave to be exhumed to check if his body is there, but then half of them would call it a fake body or demand a DNA test and then claim that, too, has been faked.

Will they ever actually be satisfied? Odds are, probably not. They’re angry they got scammed, and they’re frustrated they will never get their money back. It’s understandable for them to be upset they got scammed, but the resulting rage is not always conducive to a happy ending for the innocent people that get roped in and doxxed. Jennifer had to be escorted to a safe house because of the death threats she was receiving.

Ultimately, I think Trust No One: The Hunt for the Crypto King fails to focus on the most interesting aspect of this story: the community cryptocurrency breeds and the dangers of widespread conspiracy theories. It heavily touches on the conspiracy angle throughout but does not address the consequences beyond casual mentions.

Andrew Wagner, a member of a Vancouver crypto co-op, really puts it into perspective by saying:

"“Conspiracy theories breed in ignorance. It makes it easier for people to draw wild speculations because the authorities are not quickly enough providing them with accurate information. If you force people on the Internet to be the detectives, that’s what they’re going to do. And they’re going to solve it their own way.”"

If only that wasn’t a final sentence shoved into the last seconds of the documentary. That quote should have formed this film’s foundation, which would have created a far more enticing and resonant angle.

That’s not to say that online sleuthing is always bad, but let’s be honest—more often than not, these are people filling in details to make the story more exciting and salacious than because they’re actively looking for the truth.

Trust No One: The Hunt for the Crypto King is now streaming on Netflix.