Never has a movie at a festival made me as angry as Faith, which had its premiere at TIFF 2026. Strong performances and interesting concepts fall flat on their face, with much of Faith’s symbolism and metaphor becoming far too literal and the final half feeling more like an act of manipulation than a genuine conclusion.
But I do not want to get ahead of myself here. Faith starts off with a genuinely solid first half. Erin Doherty plays Gina, a single mother who works hard but is happy with her life thanks to her son, Jamie (Smylie Bradwell), for whom she moves heaven and earth to build a comfortable and happy home. A chance encounter with a mysterious stranger named Michael (James McAvoy) gives her hope for an even brighter future, but despite the early signs of hope, things take a turn for the worse and her life is changed forever.
Faith delivers a genuinely interesting first half. It sprinkles in some mysterious elements but feels more like an awkward romantic flick, with the film painting McAvoy’s Michael as someone who is being held back by something, but also as a character who wants the best for Gina and starts becoming a major part of her drive to better herself and her place in the world. Despite some awkward moments, the performances help sell the concept, and I was excited to see where it would go next. But around the halfway point, the film lost me.
“Faith works to manipulate the audience into understanding what is going on, but it feels mean-spirited…”
There are some interesting ideas at play, but what goodwill Faith builds early on is squandered with a ham-fisted section that devolves into grief porn and the slow spiral of a woman who was once filled with so much vibrancy but is now utterly crushed. Faith works to manipulate the audience into understanding what is going on, but it feels mean-spirited, with some sequences becoming vile in the way they linger on the depression Gina finds herself in.
With a conclusion that feels muddled and symbolism that seems to devolve into some truly awkward sequences, Faith does not earn the ending it wants to leave audiences with. With such a strong opening, I was hoping the film could stick the landing and find a way to redeem itself, but it never manages to do so. By the final moments, I was gripping my chair, wanting to yell at the screen. I felt like I was being lectured by someone who wants to see people suffer, not someone coming from a place of compassion. Never has suffering felt so manipulative and so wasted.
Now, I do not want to take away from anything that was done well. Erin Doherty delivers a fantastic performance and gives her all to the role, which is part of why her suffering feels so wasted in the story this movie wants to tell. It feels needless and empty when there are so many places the story could have gone to relay a similar message without getting lost in a cruel scenario that does little more than show how much pain a person can go through without real help.
Likewise, McAvoy delivers a great performance in an understated but powerful role that lets him flex his range and showcase how much can be conveyed through subtle expressions without losing the stoicism Michael is trying to embody. Had the story been stronger or the overall film felt more consistent, I would be telling everyone to watch these performances as a showcase of how much can be conveyed with subtlety and conviction in the roles. But as it is, Faith is a failure.
I wanted to walk away liking Faith. It has strong performances and an interesting setup, but the movie just does not have the strength to deliver on its dark themes and feels more manipulative than engaging. These actors deserved better than what the director delivered, and I am excited to see what they do next. While there are some who may enjoy what Faith brings to the table, it is a total pass from me unless you go in expecting to be disappointed.
