My Thoughts on the Lev Parnas Documentary - Part I
This past Friday, I challenged myself to sit through MSNBC’s latest documentary, produced by Rachel Maddow, featuring former GOP provocateur Lev Parnas. My initial concern was that simply tuning into the network might subject me to intellectual atrophy, a condition seemingly afflicting Maddow’s and Joy Reid’s followers. But much to my surprise, I emerged unscathed. What I endured, however, was two hours of what can best be described as an extended anti-Trump campaign ad—an emotive portrayal of a man eager to paint himself as both the victim and penitent.
The tone of the documentary is set like that of a bereaved spouse who, having been spurned, now seeks to narrate their heartbreak to the world. The viewer is supposed to feel sympathy, if not empathy, for Lev Parnas, who tells us he was once swept into the Trump orbit, only to be discarded by the very machine he sought to exploit. But beneath this surface narrative lies a more complicated, and perhaps more cynical, reality.
The documentary asks us to forgive Parnas, presenting his tale as a "mea culpa" for past misdeeds. However, in doing so, it overlooks one glaring fact: the protagonist at the center is deeply flawed and unapologetically candid about his history of criminality. From his early days allegedly tied to the Russian mafia in Brooklyn to his Hollywood scam days and beyond, Parnas speaks not as a man seeking redemption but as one who boasts of his criminal exploits. This self-aggrandizing nature casts doubt over the documentary’s broader goal—whether it is to truly expose Parnas's story or to use him as a tool in a broader political narrative.
More troubling is Parnas’s admission that his interest in Trump’s political world was never driven by ideology or loyalty. Instead, he openly confesses that his primary concern was financial gain—an opportunist keen to capitalize on his proximity to wealth and power. He did not care for Trump, nor the campaign itself; it was the transactional nature of political donors that intrigued him. This should serve as a cautionary tale, not a confessional worthy of absolution. It raises the question: why would a man with such dubious motivations suddenly seek redemption in the public eye?
In my own experience within New York GOP circles since 2015, I never crossed paths with Parnas, though I became familiar with him through virtual interactions on X (formerly known as Twitter) after my expulsion from Congress nearly a year ago. Despite his notoriety, Parnas never emerged as a key figure in these circles. Perhaps this is why the documentary feels so disjointed—attempting to elevate Parnas to a level of significance he never truly held within the GOP ecosystem.
That said, Parnas is undoubtedly a charismatic figure—perhaps too much so. He exudes the charm of someone who knows how to work a room but also someone ready to turn on those he once aligned with, should the opportunity arise. His cordiality with me, even as he positions himself as a staunch opponent of all things Trump-related, speaks to his ability to navigate complex political waters. But this, too, raises suspicion. Is this cordiality genuine or merely another calculated move in his quest to reinvent himself?
The larger question remains: What should we make of this documentary? Is it truly an exploration of a man grappling with his past, or is it a political tool designed to feed into the broader anti-Trump narrative? While the documentary may succeed in portraying Parnas as a sympathetic figure, it ultimately fails to reckon with his true nature. It is not simply the tale of a man who made a few wrong choices. Instead, it is the story of someone who has repeatedly leveraged proximity to power for personal gain—only now, that power has shifted.
In the end, the Lev Parnas documentary is less a mea culpa and more a well-crafted rebranding effort. While it may appeal to viewers eager to see another Trump associate repent, one cannot escape the feeling that this is just another chapter in Parnas’s ongoing performance, one driven not by genuine remorse but by opportunism.
To elevate him as a significant player in the political drama of recent years is to overlook his true role: that of a man always seeking the next profitable connection, regardless of the consequences. In this light, the documentary serves not as a warning or an exposé but as a missed opportunity to dig deeper into the darker side of political opportunism.
In the coming weeks I will deliver more opinions on this documentary as I analyze it further, please enjoy part I of III.