Social media replaces life for the Iverson family, which is headed by freezing-cold May Iverson, whose Mother May I videos have chronicled the childhoods and now young adulthood of her daughters January, March, April, and twins June and July. Their real last name is Iniesta, but their Latino father and mixed-race identities are mostly swept under the carefully curated rug, except when it works for May to use it as content. The girls are both hyper-aware of their every movement as fodder for videos—how could they not be, when a genuine emotion is met with the request to do it again for the camera?—and bone-deep in the influencer life. It all threatens to collapse when May’s second husband, happily for the brand named August, is found murdered at their white-on-white home, a fire set seemingly to cover the crime. As though from multiple camera angles, the narrative unfolds over different time lines and from various characters’ perspectives, including, perfectly, “We Who Grew Up Watching the Iversons” and “We the Followers of Mother May I.” As the engaging and incredible lives of the Iverson/Iniestas unspool, a grotesque view of modern life is put under the microscope, with no pink-marble stone left unturned. One for We Who Grew Up Watching the Kardashians, of course, but also for fans of family drama and sociological skewerings.
