The Tinder Swindler fallout shows the dark side of Netflix fame | Adrian Horton

The subject of the hit documentary, who conned women out of hundreds of thousands, is trying to launch a celebrity career, a depressing but inevitable next step

When I first watched The Tinder Swindler last month, in anticipation for an interview with director Felicity Morris, I was, like many viewers, completely absorbed by the story.

Several women meet a man on Tinder who claims to be the billionaire heir to an Israeli diamond fortune, lavishes them with attention, flies to them on actual private jets, then swindles them for hundreds of thousands of dollars? I'm a single woman in my late 20s in New York: of course I ate it up. The documentary was also much, much better than it could have been; I appreciated that Morris didn't have much interest in probing the psychology of its swindler, Simon Leviev. Instead, she foregrounded three women's first-person accounts of getting conned - why they believed him, why they cared for him, what such manipulation and confusion does to someone - as well as the journalists at the Norwegian paper VG who unspooled his lies for an initial expose in 2019.