One Eyed Girl

One Eyed Girl is a slow-burning Australian psychological thriller that quietly gets under your skin. Directed by Nick Matthews, the film follows Travis, a young psychiatrist who's spiraling after a personal tragedy. Burnt out and guilt-ridden, he crosses paths with Grace, a mysterious woman who invites him to a secluded community led by a charismatic leader, Father Jay. What begins as an escape from his pain turns into something far more dangerous and revealing.

Unlike most thrillers about cults, One Eyed Girl isn't built on shocking twists or violence. It's about the emotional and psychological vulnerability that draws people toward control and belief. Travis isn't naïve; he's broken. The film captures how trauma and loneliness can make even intelligent people crave structure, forgiveness, or something that simply feels like purpose.

Mark Leonard Winter gives a deeply convincing performance as Travis, portraying quiet despair with subtlety and restraint. Tilda Cobham-Hervey, as Grace, brings an unsettling calmness. She's the film's haunting center. Together, their connection feels both tragic and oddly tender.

The cinematography enhances the mood perfectly dry Australian landscapes mirror Travis's emptiness, while the secluded compound feels both peaceful and suffocating. The pacing is deliberate, sometimes almost meditative, which may frustrate viewers looking for a more conventional thriller, but it rewards patience with emotional depth and moral complexity.

By the end, One Eyed Girl leaves you with more questions than answers about faith, redemption, and the fine line between healing and surrender. It's dark, quiet, and deeply human the kind of film that lingers long after the credits roll.

When you actually watch it, it's much darker than you'd think, and it doesn't sell you with dramatic suspense. It slowly immerses you in the mind of someone who's "broken." The story begins with "Travis," a young psychiatrist who's burned out after the loss of a patient. He feels like he's lost in life. One day, he meets "Grace," a young woman who invites him to join a group that appears to be a support group for those struggling with life, but is actually a cult led by an eccentric leader named "Feather Jay." After a while, we begin to wonder who's truly "crazy" the cultists or Travis, who's slowly slipping away. The film uses a gradual narrative that builds emotion, as if we're trapped in a dark room with these people, and we gradually realize that each of them has their own scars.

I'm still sitting with everything it made me feel. It's one of those slow-burning, unsettling films that doesn't go where you think it will in a good way.

The movie follows this guy, Travis, a psychiatrist who's clearly dealing with some serious internal turmoil. He's depressed, kind of numb to the world, and not really coping with the weight of his work or personal life. Then he meets Grace this quiet, strange young woman and through her, ends up in a secluded cult-like community led by a guy named Father Jay.

At first, it seems like they might be helping him. The place is remote, strict, almost military-like, but there's a sense of belonging there that Travis is drawn to. That's where the movie gets really interesting it starts challenging you to think about what people are willing to believe in when they're desperate for purpose or healing.

The performances are what really make this film stick. Mark Leonard Winter, who plays Travis, does a brilliant job of showing someone completely unraveling, while still trying to hold it together. Tilda Cobham-Hervey as Grace is just... haunting. There's so much pain behind her eyes, but she also carries this strange sense of calm that keeps you guessing. And Steve Le Marquand as Father Jay terrifyingly charismatic. You can see exactly why people would follow him, even when things start to feel off.

It's not a flashy film it's quiet, tense, and moody. A lot of grey tones, empty spaces, minimal soundtrack. It builds atmosphere more than action, but that worked for me. It felt real, raw, and honestly a bit uncomfortable at times which I think was the point.

No matter how you approach it, this movie is ultimately about the search for meaning after trauma and how easily that search can lead us into darkness or, if we're lucky, toward redemption

If you watch it with empathy, the story becomes about two damaged souls Travis and Grace seeking connection. Both are trying to heal in their own way. Grace's faith and Travis's skepticism clash, but they also reflect each other's longing for understanding. The ending, seen from this view, feels tragic but compassionate like two people finally seeing the truth, even if it destroys them.

A quiet and unsettling psychological drama that looks at how guilt and loneliness can push people toward dangerous places. The story follows a young psychiatrist who's clearly struggling after a personal loss. When he meets a mysterious woman who introduces him to a small, isolated community, he's drawn into their world, hoping to find peace or forgiveness. What starts as a chance to heal slowly turns into something much darker.

The film moves at a calm, deliberate pace, but that slow build works. It's more about mood and emotion than action, and the tension comes from watching how easily control and faith can blur together. The performances feel genuine and grounded, especially from the two leads, who carry a quiet sadness that lingers. The dry, sun-bleached landscape adds to the sense of isolation, matching the emptiness inside the characters.