Uncut Diamonds

’Tis the season for horror—for chills, thrills, and everything in between. The kind that doesn’t just make you jump but seeps into the mind, nestles uneasily beneath the skin, and leaves you teetering between recoil and curiosity—unsettled, but compelled to keep watching. As MasterClass notes,

“Thrillers are dark, engrossing, and suspenseful plot-driven stories.” And that’s precisely the genre that “Wayward” inhabits.

Wayward

Now streaming on Netflix, “Wayward” is a limited series that unfolds with a slow, deliberate intensity, drawing viewers deeper into its web of secrets. At its core is Tall Pines, a rehabilitation center for troubled youth—a place that promises healing but hides something far more sinister. Beneath its structured order lie manipulation, control, and methods that cross dangerous ethical lines.

At the heart of it all is Evelyn Wade, portrayed with unnerving precision by Toni Collette, whose performance captures both the authority and the quiet menace that define the world of “Wayward.”

The Hand That Rules

Wade, who herself appears to be a product of fractured beliefs and misguided ideals, has constructed her own philosophy by which she governs the program. Her mission—to end the cycle of generational trauma—might sound noble in theory, but her methods are anything but. What she enacts in the name of healing is chilling, even grotesque, and though it may appear to mend, it ultimately wounds deeper, leaving devastation in its wake. ‘Wayward” becomes, in many ways, a cautionary tale about the danger of playing savior without understanding the cost.

The limited series spans eight episodes, each running approximately 45 minutes, and features a compelling ensemble cast: Mae Martin as Alex Dempsey, Sarah Gadon as Laura, Alyvia Alyn Lind as Leila, Sydney Topliffe as Abbie, and Brandon Jay McLaren as Dwayne Andrews.

Wayward: The Set Up For Success

The opening episode wastes no time drawing viewers in. It introduces a mix of troubled teens, a couple newly relocated to Tall Pines, and a runaway desperate to escape its grip. From the very first moments, an eerie undercurrent runs through the story—an unsettling tension beneath the surface of what appears to be a perfectly ordered community. The utopian façade feels just a little too polished, a little too pristine, hinting at the rot beneath. The setup does exactly what it should: it pulls the viewer in, offering just enough mystery and just enough dread, to make you pick a side—someone to root for, and someone to fear

Lost in The Pines

The episodes that follow take viewers deeper into the unsettling world of Tall Pines. As the layers of the program peel back, we begin to understand what fuels both its unwilling participants and its zealous leader. Meanwhile, Alex Dempsey—now part of local law enforcement—grows increasingly determined to expose the truth and shut the operation down. The tension builds steadily, offering more insight and unease in equal measure. Yet, the middle episodes trade intensity for atmosphere, leaning into a slow burn that occasionally drags before reigniting the suspense.

From One Cult to Another

By the finale, the series provides some of the answers it’s been circling around. We see the full scope of what Wade’s program was trying to achieve—and how disastrously it misfired. Still, even as it clarifies, the ending complicates. What begins as the unraveling of one cult begins to feel like the quiet emergence of another. The conclusion blurs the line between salvation and control, leaving viewers uncertain about what has truly been resolved—or what might come next.

Getting Down to Bare Bones

“Wayward” succeeds in premise and promise. Its concept is intriguing, its tone unsettling, and Toni Collette delivers a compelling turn as the unflinching cult leader. The show’s psychological and moral underpinnings give it texture and thematic weight. But despite its strong setup, Wayward stumbles in execution. What starts as gripping and provocative ultimately loses its footing, leaving the audience with the sense that, somewhere along the way, the story lost sight of its own direction.