After gladiator sandals (very 2010), the Aperol Spritz (really 2018) and very short shorts for men (so 2023), here is the new summer trend to adopt at a great price, according to a women’s magazine: three-way miniseries hour-long episodes.
You have swallowed Ashley Madison: sex, lies and scandal from Netflix? Skip to Dancing with the Devil: a cult on TikTok? from the same platform, which packs in less than three hours this dark affair which involves young stars of social networks, synchronized choreographies and a shady church led by a truly “sketch” guru, like the peregrine falcon of the CAQ.
But, but, Mr. Columnist. Three episodes of less than an hour, is it starting to look like an ordinary film? Hmm. Yes and no. Yes for the duration. No for the way of consuming.
Netflix has finally stopped artificially boosting its docuseries to eight or ten episodes, an bloat that caused massive abandonments. At three one-hour episodes, no viewer gives up halfway through. The storyline has been condensed, pruned and packaged to be addictive.
We trigger the first episode, we naturally slide towards the second and, once there, we would be sorry not to watch the end. This is the magic recipe against dropping out.
It’s crazy to what extent television on digital platforms, which is consumed in bursts, has changed our relationship with time. I’m more and more reluctant to watch a three-hour film (Dune 2 ? No, thank you), when it’s so easy, and zero demanding, to put on a miniseries of the same length. Sense of satisfaction and completion: very high.
Dance with the Devil, available in English and French on Netflix, swims right in the middle of this current of TV for people with attention deficits, who quickly get bored. On Tuesday, this American miniseries topped Netflix’s most popular productions, ahead of Bridgerton, Ashley Madison And Baby Reindeerundoubtedly the most destabilizing show of 2024. You absolutely have to watch it.
Halfway between a criminal documentary and a journalistic investigation, Dance with the Devil tells the story of the control – emotional, financial and professional – that a mysterious sect exercises over a handful of hyperactive creators on the TikTok platform.
PHOTO PROVIDED BY NETFLIX
Melanie Wilking and Miranda Derrick (right) in Dancing with the Devil: a cult on TikTok?
The story begins in the suburbs of Detroit, where sisters Miranda and Melanie Wilking, in their twenties, each dream of a career as a professional dancer. Their videos generate a string of likes and they move to Los Angeles, where Miranda falls in love with a krump pro, James “BDash” Derrick.
James Derrick put the Wilking sisters in contact with the talent agency that represented him, 7m Films. Several dancers affiliated with 7m live under the same roof, in a huge Los Angeles villa equipped with professional studios for creating content. An Instagrammer’s paradise.
Miranda moves there in 2020. Not Melanie, who quickly notices that something is wrong in this joyful universe that is too perfect for social networks.
In fact, the 7m agency comes under the Shekinah Church founded by Pastor Robert Shinn, who encourages his flock to study the Bible and live self-sufficiently in an impermeable religious bubble.
Not very religious, Miranda becomes devout. She cuts her hair short and turns it blonde. She marries her lover James Derrick, without inviting her parents, and breaks all ties with her family, including her sister Melanie, who, let’s face it, is a loser.
The dancers affiliated with the 7m group, therefore linked to the Shekinah sect, bring in a mountain of money to their guru/agent Robert Shinn. They appear on Ellen DeGeneres’ talk show, at the Super Bowl halftime show in 2022, in the bluette The Idea of You as well as in the remake of the film Road House from Prime Video with Jake Gyllenhaal.
On the other hand, the Shekinah movement appropriates the majority of their income and hands over the bare minimum to its stars, who are brainwashed similar to what docuseries like The Order of the Solar Temple Or Rael: The prophet of extraterrestrials have already exhibited.
Dance with the Devil first focuses on Miranda’s family, who strive to free her from the clutches of the Californian guru, then shifts to former members of the sect, who accuse her pastor of sexual assault and financial fraud.
The point is lost, diluted and scattered. Another annoying point: several lawsuits have been filed in this stifling sect case, but nothing has been resolved. The pastor preaches. And the dancers dance. Always.
It’s also fascinating to browse the accounts of Shekinah’s followers after watching Dance with the Devil. Miranda and James have 1.6 and 1.7 million followers respectively on Instagram. Five days ago, Miranda and James released a “homemade” video in which they candidly and innocently have fun to the song Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter.
They smile profusely, as if the Netflix docuseries didn’t exist, and they erase the vomit emojis and derogatory comments that pile up under the post.
Have you sold your soul for this? You are being exploited! Call your parents!
The rest of the series is being written live on social networks. Tuesday afternoon, Miranda Derrick admitted to having dedicated her life to Jesus Christ and that she never asked those close to her to save her, on the contrary.
God is good, Miranda reminds us. And it’s even better when God collects more than 70% of your salary.