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Wayward is the title you need to keep your eyes on most of all when looking at the line-up of everything new on Netflix in September 2025. Brought to us by Feel Good creator and comic Mae Martin, they’ve even bagged Toni Collette for her most explosive horror role since Ari Aster’s Hereditary in 2022.
But this is just scratching the surface of why Wayward is so good. The new Netflix series tells the story of the small town of Tall Pines, Vermont, which is home to a school of delinquent teens that get shipped off to study under the watchful eye of Evelyn Wade (Collette). Leila (Alyvia Alyn Lind) and Abbie (Sydney Topliffe) are two teens caught up in the school’s mysteries, alongside cop Alex (Martin) and wife Laura (Sarah Gadon), who return to Laura’s home town to settle down before the birth of their new baby.
Their two points of view converge over the course of the eight-episode run, giving us a multi-dimensional look at what it means to be a brainwashed youth incarcerated against your will. The town’s decisions (and I won’t spoil what these are) aim to rebuild Tall Pines from the ground up, but instead break down and fracture every part of its infrastructure. Not that this seems to matter, though as Evelyn’s got her metaphorical hooks into almost everyone around her.
Between Alex, Abbie and Leila, it’s up to them to get to the bottom of what’s actually going on in Tall Pines. As a result, we’re taken on a journey that resembles something between Twin Peaks and Stranger Things, and boy, is the outcome satisfying.
Of course Netflix’s Wayward is brilliant, Mae Martin created it
Viewers should have known Wayward would be an instant addition to their watchlist the minute it was clear the series was coming from Mae Martin. Feel Good is still regarded as one of the greatest comedy-dramas to come out of the last decade, and not just by me. Even though veering into sci-fi supernatural territory isn’t an expected direction for Martin, it almost doesn’t matter.
Why? Good TV comes from getting the basics right: we’re talking structure, characters, setting, as well as peaks and pits to hold the audiences attention. It’s Martin’s craft that’s always elevated anything they’ve been a part of, even though their character Alex could be seen as another extension of their own personality. But we’re rooting for Alex every step of the way, and that paves the way for some effortless LGBTQIA+ representation.
Instead of overtly stating that Martin’s character is a trans man, the ensemble use he/him pronouns without hesitation, and when they fumble it feels authentic, rather than clumsily wedging inclusion in to tick a diversity box. It’s incredibly refreshing and makes us buy into Alex’s personal experiences on a much deeper level. If you’re looking for someone more shouty about their sexuality, Leila is your girl, with her blossoming bisexuality proudly worn as only a naive teenager can.
Then there’s Toni Collette. As one of the most talented actors that seems to be continuously unappreciated (especially by the Academy Awards), I hope viewers will tune in merely to see her shine (though I already know they will). She raises the game of everything and everyone around her when she signs onto the project, and there’s no doubt that Wayward is what it is because of her. It’s Evelyn’s world and we’re just living in it, making even the most skin-crawling of scenes enjoyable.
Stick with Wayward after episode 1 – I promise the payoff is worth it
For the most part, Wayward is well structured, holds its intrigue and has enough mystery wrapped in suspense to sustain us for the rest of the year. I’m a biased fan of anything to do with sketchy communes, strange towns and schools for dysfunctional children, but its subject matter is incredibly compelling even for the uninitiated. I should have felt as though I’d seen this play out 1000 times over (and better), but I came away from Wayward with a fresh perspective.
That said, there are a few minor downsides. With such a strange ensemble cast of characters in Tall Pines, not all of them get their backstories explained outright, particularly those relating to Laura’s past. Laura’s own journey has an ironic symbiosis with Evelyn’s and it would have been helpful to see more of how she actually functioned in her alma mater.
Looking back, episode 1 was the biggest stumbling block, and that’s not helpful when it’s the make-or-break point of a viewer deciding if they’ll stick or split to something else in Netflix’s expansive back catalog. It’s worth point out that all events that occur in Wayward are happening in 2003 rather than being split across different points in time, with it initially unclear how Abbie and Leila’s story will cross paths with Alex and Laura’s. It gets there pretty quickly after in episode 2, but the first 40 minutes require a bit of patience and push-through.
But these are small prices to pay for an ultimately satisfying and well-rounded eight-parter. Touching on themes of identity, motherhood, loss, community and trust, anybody who loves unpicking the crux of a story will be fed well-timed mouthfuls at every turn. There’s an interesting feeling of pride that comes with working out the subtext of something, and that’s a uniquely enjoyable experience in Wayward. Tall Pines has a lot of its own lore, both directly through the phases of the school, and hidden in plain sight among its residents.
If you want my advice: invest your time, trust nobody, and hope to God that you don’t get selected for The Leap.
