Inventing Anna Glamorously Unravels a Con on Netflix
Photo Courtesy of Netflix
In the late 2010s, a young woman going by the name of Anna Delvey effortlessly conned New York’s rich and powerful into believing she was a German heiress, defrauding both people and institutions out of vast sums of money to support her lavish lifestyle. In 2019 she was found guilty and sent to prison, but by then—thanks in large part to a New York Magazine article by Jessica Pressler detailing the case and the mysterious woman behind it—Anna was a star.
Netflix’s new nine-episode miniseries Inventing Anna is based on Pressler’s “How Anna Delvey Tricked New York’s Party People,” a viral sensation that drew the attention of prolific showrunner Shonda Rhimes, who helms this fictionalized take as part of her lucrative overall deal with the streamer. And by all accounts, Inventing Anna could be TV’s next big thing—although like Anna herself, perhaps not for all the reasons it wants to be.
Inventing Anna is the perfect Shondaland series in that it is incredibly fun to watch but filled with issues. The first is star Julia Garner’s divisive accent. As Anna, Garner owns this entire series—she needs us to care about her as much as those around her seem to; her Anna needs to be tough, flippant, and vulnerable in turn. And it works, except for what is—in a year of outrageous accents—a truly outrageous accent. Anna Delvey lived in Germany for many years but was actually born in Russia, so some vaguely European accent mixing is part of the story. At the same time, the result is often uncannily similar to Tommy Wiseau.
If you can get past that, though, Inventing Anna is undeniably engrossing. It’s a mystery where we watch Anna Chlumsky’s Vivian Kent (based on Pressler) unravel the story, first by sensing there is more to this story after Anna’s arrest, then convincing her editors to back her on it, and ultimately explaining to Anna herself that she is the one who can tell it the right way. But even when Anna consents to be interviewed, she is an inscrutable figure, one who Vivian refers to her as both a scared girl and Hannibal Lecter. By all accounts, both are true.
It’s also delightful to see frivolously rich people get played by someone who uses their own tricks and mores against them. Anna was able to so easily move to the pinnacle of New York society because she understood, as Vivian later reveals, that by flashing money and posturing as wealthy and unbothered, doors would open. They did. The story lays bare a damning portrait of a shallow and money-obsessed culture of elites (and those who leech off of them), while also making us wish that we were a part of it.
The series is also stocked with Shondaland regulars, from Katie Lowes as Anna’s frienemy Rachel to Jeff Perry’s Lou, one of three older writers who (alongside Anna Deavere Smith and Terry Kinney) are relegated to “Scriberia” at the magazine alongside Vivian, but who end up mentoring and helping her cross the finish line with her piece. There are also winking references to Anna’s friendships with Fyre Festival’s Billy McFarland and “Pharma Bro” Martin Shkreli, connections which give a glimpse of how many fraudsters were (and are) operating and overlapping in places of power. Evidently it’s not that difficult to con greedy financiers.