Why Are We So Obsessed With Cults Right Now? Caitríona Balfe’s Ascension and the Psychology of Evil
Let’s be honest: Cults are having a moment. From The Vow to Waco to Under the Banner of Heaven, streaming platforms can’t get enough of stories about manipulation, devotion, and moral collapse. Now Apple TV+ is doubling down with Ascension, a thriller starring Caitríona Balfe and produced by Alfonso Cuarón. But this isn’t just another true-crime rehash. What makes Ascension fascinating—and disturbingly relevant—is how it weaponizes our current cultural anxieties about truth, loyalty, and the masks we wear to survive chaos.
Caitríona Balfe: From Outlander to Apocalypse
Balfe, best known for Outlander’s time-traveling drama, is trading kilts and castles for a far darker role: Rose, a documentary filmmaker unraveling a 20th-century cult called the Church of Ascension. Personally, I think this casting is genius. Balfe’s on-screen warmth—the kind that made her character’s resilience believable in Outlander—creates the perfect contrast for a story about misplaced trust. Rose isn’t just investigating a cult; she’s fleeing a broken marriage, loneliness, and the raw vulnerability of starting over. Isn’t that the perfect setup for indoctrination? We rarely talk about how cults prey on the emotionally exhausted, not just the naive. That’s what Ascension seems to grasp intuitively.
Alfonso Cuarón: Crafting Moral Ambiguity
Alfonso Cuarón’s fingerprints are all over this project. The Children of Men director has always obsessed with systems of control—governments, technology, now religion. His involvement suggests Ascension won’t settle for easy answers. From my perspective, Cuarón’s greatest skill is making oppression feel intimate. Think of the claustrophobic spaceship in Gravity or the class divide in Roma. Here, he’s likely using the cult as a microcosm for larger evils: How do institutions—families, governments, even streaming platforms—manipulate our need for belonging? What this really suggests is that evil isn’t a monster; it’s a whisper in your ear when you’re too tired to say no.
Cults as a Metaphor for Modern Life
The Church of Ascension’s premise—"a refuge that hides something insidious"—feels eerily timed. We’re in an era where wellness brands, social media movements, and even political ideologies blur with cult-like tactics: love bombing, misinformation, performative purity. One thing that stands out here is how Ascension could mirror our paradoxical hunger for certainty in an age of infinite choice. The show’s logline mentions "evil at the highest level," but I’m betting the real villain isn’t a mustache-twirling mastermind. More likely, it’s the systemic rot of good intentions. This raises a deeper question: Are we all complicit in sustaining systems that promise safety but demand our surrender?
Production Pedigree vs. Streaming Fatigue
Let’s address the elephant in the room: Apple TV+ has burned audiences before. The Morning Show promised depth but became a soap opera, while Severance remains a niche gem. Ascension’s team—Cuarón, director Natalie Erika James (Relic), and Anonymous Content (producers of Maniac)—is stacked with art-house credibility. But does prestige packaging matter anymore? What many people don’t realize is that streamers are in an arms race for "watercooler" content, even as viewers suffer decision fatigue. My hunch? Ascension will lean into slow-burn dread, not twist-driven plotlines. Whether that resonates depends on how well it balances cerebral themes with the guilty-pleasure camp of shows like The Nevers.
The Future of Prestige TV: Trauma as a Genre
If Ascension succeeds, it’ll join a growing canon of trauma-centric prestige TV. But here’s the twist: It might redefine the genre by rejecting victim narratives. Rose’s journey—"sacrificing everything to protect loved ones"—hints at a radical idea: that survival can be as morally corrupting as the threats we flee. From a broader perspective, this aligns with post-Mad Men storytelling, where characters aren’t just shaped by trauma; they weaponize it. The show’s exploration of "evil within" could become a blueprint for how streaming platforms tackle psychological complexity without losing the addictive "one more episode" pull.
Final Thoughts: Why This Matters
We’re not just watching a thriller here. Ascension is a mirror held up to our collective psyche—a chance to dissect why we cling to lies, how pain warps morality, and what we’ll sacrifice for a fragile peace. If Cuarón and Balfe pull it off, this won’t just be another cult story. It’ll be a dissection of the human condition in 2024. And honestly? We need those now more than ever. The real question isn’t whether the Church of Ascension is dangerous—it’s whether we’ll recognize the cults we’ve already joined in our own lives.
