The Best Depictions Of Cults In Film And Television 

Tonight, the Paramount Network premieres the first installment in a six-part miniseries about real-life cult leader David Koresh and the tragic siege of his compound in Waco, Texas. Waco stars Taylor Kitsch as Koresh and Michael Shannon as FBI agent Gary Noesner, and will dig into the complexities of Koresh's spiritual sect, the Branch Davidians, including their strange living conditions, and their leader's penchant for marrying and sleeping with preteen girls. It's the second fictional portrayal of Koresh in the last few months: Evan Peters' also briefly tackled the part in an episode of American Horror Story: Cult late last year.

Koresh is having his day in the sun, but public fascination with cults and cult leaders is nothing new. There's something inherently compelling and cinematic about the mass mania that permits these institutions. It's a goldmine of character development and analytics, of drama and personal spectacle; a way of lifting the hood on human psychology and playing with the gears.

As cults rage on as potent storytelling devices, we've compiled a list of the best-ever depictions of cults and cult mentality in narrative film, documentaries, and television.

Elizabeth Olsen burst onto the scene after her turn in this 2011 Sundance hit from first-time director Sean Durkin. Olsen stars as the titular Martha (who dons the other names in the title at different points in the film), a young woman on the run from a violent cult based in the Catskills. After returning to her sister's home, she has a hard time adjusting to reality, so warped is she from strange life she lived on the cult's rural farm. Sarah Paulson co-stars as Martha's sister, and John Hawkes plays Patrick, the cult leader, a Manson figure who believes in free love, female servitude, and disrupting social order as a means of progress and survival. The film borrows a lot from the Manson murders – the farm is a less glamorous Spahn Ranch, and the home invasion scenes are right out of Helter Skelter – but it also carves its own identity, choosing to focus on the specific psychological damage cults inflict on brainwashed young women.

Where to watch it: Buy or rent on iTunes and Amazon

It's hard to pigeonhole Rosemary's Baby as a "movie about a cult" because the cult stuff is mostly in the shadows until the film's final scene, and even then it's arguably more of a coven than a cult. But given the prominence of a cult-like central figure (Roman Castevet or Satan, take your pick), we'll count it. The film, about a beautiful young New Yorker impregnated by Satan, is another portrait of a psychologically damaged woman. Rosemary's docile domesticity and innocence allow the betrayal she's later faced with, when her actor husband trades her body to the devil-worshipping neighbors for his own shot at fame. Rosemary is drugged, raped, and then assumed insane once she starts putting the pieces together. It's a harrowing look at 1960s America, as gender roles began to shift, and female agency solidified. Mia Farrow is haunting as Rosemary, and you'll never forget Ruth Gordon as her quirky, Satan-hailing neighbor.

Where to watch it: Buy or rent on iTunes and Amazon

People really slept on AHS: Cult, one of the show's best seasons, and a truly great depiction of the insidious way cults start in someone's living room before growing into violent, parasitic movements. Evan Peters plays Kai Anderson, a lonely and lifeless young man who, after the election of President Trump, is incentivized to wreak havoc in the Michigan suburb where he lives. He preys on the weak people he encounters, exploiting their fears and desires, convincing them to dress up as clowns and terrorize their community. His masterful way of interpreting the work of other famous cult leaders – one standout episode has Peters depicting Koresh, Manson, Jim Jones, and Marshall Applewhite – and where they went wrong almost carries him to a Senate seat, but then he meets his match in Sarah Paulson's Ally Mayfair-Richards, a self-described "nasty woman" who throws a wrench in his ascension. It's a great season full of terrific performances and a seething self-awareness that transcends the sins of American Horror Story past.

Where to watch it: Buy or rent episodes on iTunes and Amazon

The original – not the 2006 Nicolas Cage remake – is the godfather of all cult movies. Edward Woodward is excellent as Howie, a police sergeant who travels to a remote island searching for a missing girl. The island is inhabited by a kooky New Agey-type cult – led by Christopher Lee – that worships Celtic gods and puts toads in their mouths to treat cold sores. They are uncooperative with Woodward, claiming the young girl never existed, and eventually reveal their plot to trap and sacrifice Howie to improve their harvest. The Wicker Man is a weird and creepy product of its time, and had a massive impact on the horror genre.

Where to watch it: Stream it on Shudder

Alex Gibney's documentary – an adaptation of Lawrence Wright's bestselling book – is a compelling and upsetting deep-dive into Scientology, that Hollywood "religion" that, according to ex-members, is far more dangerous than Tom Cruise's flashy smile would have you believe. Gibney interviews a slew of former high-ranking Scientologists, who unveil the church's brainwashing recruitment tactics, abusive faculties, and family-destroying rubrics. If Going Clear leaves you hungry for more, Leah Remini's A&E reality series, Scientology and the Aftermath, is a solid follow-up.

Where to watch it: Stream it on HBONow

Britt Marling has a knack for weird storytelling. The writer/actress' Netflix series, The OA, is great, but her best project to date is Sound of My Voice, which she co-wrote with director Zal Batmanglij. Marling plays Maggie, a cult leader who claims to be a time traveler from 2054. When two aspiring documentarians catch word of her story, they go undercover into the cult to get close to Maggie, and hopefully expose her as a fraud. Things don't exactly go according to plan, and a revelation near the end of the film suggests that there may be some truth to her story after all. Sound of My Voice is unique in that its cult leader is a woman, and though the movie isn't too heavy on plot, it packs a punch.

Where to watch it: Buy or rent on iTunes and Amazon

Holy Smoke is woefully underrated, a bizarre and sexy film from maestro Jane Campion. Kate Winslet stars as Ruth, a young woman who, during a trip to India, falls under the influence of a guru named Baba. She changes her name and disconnects from her parents, who eventually intervene and bring her home. They hire a counselor (Harvey Keitel) to help "deprogram" Ruth, but the tendrils of Baba's influence run deep, and Ruth uses her sexuality to interrupt the counselor's tactics. Like Martha Marcy May Marlene, Holy Smoke is about the psychological impact cults have on impressionable minds, and the deep seeds that sort of mental torment plants.Where to watch it: Buy or rent on iTunes and Amazon

This documentary digs deep into Jim Jones and the Jonestown massacre, where more than 900 people died in a mass murder-suicide. It's tough subject matter, and the film doesn't flinch away from some of the brutal elements, including the infamous "death tape" where Jim Jones can be heard giving instructions to his terrified constituents moments before their deaths. The film interviews former members of Jones' cult, and survivors of the massacre. It's an intimate look at a man, a following, and event that feel otherworldly in their extremity.

Where to watch it: Stream it on YouTube

This star-studded '80s movie is another look at the cost of extracting a young person from a cult atmosphere. Michael O'Keefe's Danny is a college athlete who is lured to a religious commune, where he becomes fascinated with and compelled by its leader, Neil Kirklander (an excellent Peter Fonda). Danny's parents, terrified by their son's new direction in life, hire a bounty hunter (James Woods) to save him from Kirklander's dangerous influence. Films love pitting young women against the power of maniacal cults, so Split Image is a welcome counterpoint, showing how fragile masculinity is equally malleable by outside forces.

Where to watch it: Stream it on Amazon Prime

Paul Thomas Anderson's Scientology-movie-that's-not-really-a-Scientology-movie is definitely a Scientology movie. Philip Seymour Hoffman's Lancaster Dodd is a thinly veiled L. Ron Hubbard stand-in, and much of the trajectory of his invented religion and rise to power mimics that of Hubbard's own ascent after publishing Dianetics: The Modern Science of Mental Health. It's not reductive to call the film out for what it is; the influence of Scientology means that the focus is drawn away from the particulars of the religion and placed instead on the characters. Joaquin Phoenix gives an out-of-body performance as Freddie Quell, a character inspired by John Steinbeck, whose post-Naval career finds him drifting and drinking, waiting for an absolution. His coincidental run-in with Dodd elevates his life to something with meaning. But Dodd is an unreliable friend, and an even more unreliable leader, and The Master shows the personal cost of devoting oneself so entirely to a cause that, at the end of the day, is merely a figment of one unstable person's imagination.

Where to watch it: Buy or rent on iTunes and Amazon