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Launching September 25, 2025 on Netflix, Wayward is an eight-episode limited series that blends mystery, psychological drama, and elements of horror and sci-fi. Created by and starring Mae Martin, the show centers on a suspicious therapeutic boarding school in Vermont and explores adolescent trauma, identity, and institutional control.
A Town, a School, and Secrets Beneath the Surface
Set in the sleepy, wooded town of Tall Pines, Vermont, Wayward revolves around an enigmatic institution known as Tall Pines Academy. On paper, the school insists it champions innovative therapy, academic discipline, and nature as a healing force. But as the story unfolds, things feel far less serene. Toni Collette plays Evelyn Wade, the magnetic and unsettling head of the Academy whose charisma masks a much darker undertone. She walks the line between visionary and manipulator, and watching her on screen is both unnerving and compulsively compelling—Collette brings a quiet intensity that leaves you unsure whether to trust or fear her.
The school’s ambiance is almost too perfect, too controlled. Everything about Tall Pines pulses with an eerie stillness. Director Euros Lyn crafts this sense of unease masterfully, layering scenes with elongated silences and unsettling sound design. The atmosphere alone gives you goosebumps.
Two Timelines, One Chilling Spiral
The narrative splits initially into two threads. First, there are Abbie and Leila in 2003 Toronto. Both teens are vulnerable, complicated, and flailing in a world that doesn’t seem built for them. Played tenderly by Sydney Topliffe and Alyvia Alyn Lind, their emotional edges feel raw, real. Eventually, they find themselves enrolled in Tall Pines Academy—a supposed chance at restoration that quickly becomes something less clear, and more disturbing. To read Pluribus finale shocks fans as season 2 faces long wait
Elsewhere, we follow Alex and Laura, a couple fleeing a difficult chapter in Detroit. Alex (Mae Martin), a trans man recently forced out of the police, is trying to rebuild. Laura (Sarah Gadon), who once attended the Academy herself, is convinced it saved her. So they move to Tall Pines, looking for calm. Instead, Alex joins the local police force and begins to sense that the town—and especially the school—harbors something off. The way these two storylines slowly orbit and eventually overlap creates a creeping tension that’s hard to shake.
Themes of Control, Healing, and Who Gets to Decide
What makes Wayward feel rich is what it refuses to answer. The show critiques the so-called “Troubled Teen” industry. But it doesn’t offer neat takeaways or blunt messaging—it embraces ambiguity. Mae Martin steps into much darker terrain here than viewers might expect from their previous work, like Feel Good. It’s exciting to watch this kind of evolution. You sense that Martin has something personal to explore, even if they never spell it out.
There’s a quiet rage in the way systems meant to help can end up controlling people instead. Whether it’s teens being reprogrammed under the guise of healing, or adults gaslighting themselves into believing their trauma was useful, Wayward digs into that dissonance.
Strong Performances Ground a Shifting Tone
A show like this lives or dies on its cast, and thankfully, Wayward is grounded by striking performances. Highlights include:
- Toni Collette, magnetic and terrifying as Evelyn Wade
- Sydney Topliffe and Alyvia Alyn Lind, whose naturalism makes the emotional core work
- Isolde Ardies, in a smaller role, portraying a rule-obsessed student with chilling precision
These aren’t just performances—they’re emotional signposts in a show that constantly reshuffles its tone and genre. To read Taylor Swift opens up in final Eras Tour docuseries episode
The series has drawn comparisons to The OA, Wayward Pines, and even Rosemary’s Baby. Like those shows, Wayward often swerves when you expect it to stay straight. It doesn’t bother with conventional structure or clean endings. You’re meant to feel unsettled.
Personally, I love stories that don’t feed you answers but trust you to sit with discomfort. And that’s what Wayward does best—it lingers. Even if all the pieces don’t come together in a satisfying way, what sticks is the mood, the feeling of walking through a dream you’re not sure is yours.
A Haunting Atmospheric Puzzle
Wayward may not be for everyone. Its genre shifts, ambiguity, and refusal to spell things out will likely frustrate some viewers. But for those looking for atmosphere over exposition, emotion over resolution, it’s a compelling dive into adolescence, identity, and the institutions we let reshape us.
There’s something deeply affecting about a show that doesn’t try to convince you of anything, but simply asks you to watch, feel, and maybe leave a little more unsure of the world than before.
