The docuseries “Dancing for the Devil: The 7M TikTok Cult” has sparked considerable conversation, and rightly so. While aiming to expose the inner workings of the alleged 7M Films cult and its impact, particularly on figures like Miranda Derrick, the series unfortunately falls short in several crucial areas. Many viewers, including myself, find the narrative underdeveloped for a multi-part series, suggesting a more impactful approach might have been a concise, hard-hitting documentary format.
The central story revolves around the unsettling phenomenon of individuals willingly submitting to a seemingly manipulative cult leader. Miranda Derrick’s case is particularly perplexing. Portrayed as someone with a supportive family and a seemingly enviable life, her sudden immersion into the orbit of Robert Shinn and the 7M organization raises fundamental questions. Why would someone seemingly “have it all” abandon their established life for a controversial figure with a history of questionable behavior? This aspect of “Dancing for the Devil: The 7M TikTok Cult” is undeniably captivating, yet the series struggles to provide truly insightful answers.
While personal autonomy and freedom of choice are paramount, the documentary touches upon a critical line – the point where intervention becomes necessary. When credible allegations of sexual assault and abuse surface within such groups, as strongly implied in the context of the 7M cult, the argument for external investigation becomes compelling. “Dancing for the Devil” hints at the potential for victims trapped by fear or coercion, underscoring the responsibility of law enforcement to act. However, the series narrative frustratingly suggests a lack of adequate police response, a deeply concerning aspect of the real-world implications surrounding these types of organizations.
Perhaps the most significant flaw in “Dancing for the Devil: The 7M TikTok Cult” is its marginalization of the most severe allegations. The experiences of the Korean sisters, who reportedly suffered genuine abuse within the cult’s environment, are relegated to the periphery. The series dedicates minimal screen time to their plight and the suffering of others similarly victimized. This narrative choice is a disservice to the victims and skews the focus towards Miranda’s seemingly voluntary involvement, inadvertently minimizing the potential for serious criminal behavior within the 7M organization.
The emotional core of the documentary inadvertently shifts to Miranda’s sister, whose pain and concern are palpable. Her genuine sorrow highlights the devastating impact of cults on families. The superficial and strained interactions between Miranda and her parents further emphasize the chasm created by her involvement with 7M. It’s her sister who appears to grasp the manufactured nature of Miranda’s facade, adding another layer of tragedy to the unfolding situation depicted in “Dancing for the Devil: The 7M TikTok Cult”.
Ultimately, “Dancing for the Devil” leaves viewers with a lingering sense of unease and a desire for accountability. The hope remains that figures like Robert Shinn, at the center of the 7M controversy, will face appropriate consequences, preventing further harm to vulnerable individuals. The series serves as a stark reminder of the complexities and potential dangers lurking beneath the surface of seemingly glamorous online communities, even if its execution leaves much to be desired in fully addressing the depth of the alleged abuses.
