If you’ve ever watched a traditional exorcism movie and thought, “Okay but what if we ditched the pea soup and Latin and focused on how horrifying this would be in real life?”, Godless: The Eastfield Exorcism is exactly that nightmare.
This isn’t a “cool demon voice, bro” movie. This is “oh, humans are the real problem” horror. It’s the cinematic equivalent of being trapped at a religious intervention that slowly turns into a crime scene.
And it’s good. Uncomfortable, upsetting, and very good.
Realism Instead of Rollercoaster
Where a lot of exorcism films go full supernatural spectacle, Godless chooses another path: the one lined with:
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medical negligence,
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spiritual abuse,
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manipulation,
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and the crushing weight of group belief.
The result is less The Exorcist and more true crime doc that ruins your evening.
The film centers on Lara (Georgia Eyers), a woman struggling with frightening psychological episodes. She’s vulnerable, terrified, and desperately wants to be “normal” for her partner Daniel, who loves her but is out of his depth.
You know what would help here?
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Therapy,
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medication,
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proper psychiatric evaluation.
You know what she gets instead?
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Ron Levonde.
Ron Levonde: Alpha Exorcist, Beta Human
Dan Ewing’s Ron Levonde is one of the best horror “villains” in recent memory precisely because he’s not a mustache-twirling demon guy. He’s much worse: he’s plausible.
He’s the kind of self-appointed spiritual warrior who:
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thinks he’s doing God’s work,
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has a savior complex the size of Australia,
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radiates absolute confidence,
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and is catastrophically wrong about everything.
To the people around him, he looks like a man of faith. To the audience, he looks like a walking lawsuit.
The film smartly never turns him into a cartoon. Ron is charismatic, persuasive, and calm — which makes watching him drag Lara deeper into danger all the more chilling. He doesn’t see himself as abusive or monstrous. He genuinely believes he’s saving her soul. That’s the horror.
If demons existed in this universe, they’d probably sit back and take notes.
Georgia Eyers Carries the Movie (and Our Shattered Nerves)
Georgia Eyers as Lara is the emotional anchor of the film, and she’s fantastic. This whole story falls apart if Lara feels hollow or gimmicky, and Eyers never lets that happen.
She gives us:
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the confusion of someone unsure if their mind is betraying them,
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the desperation to get better “by any means,”
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the fear of losing her relationship,
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and the exhaustion of being passed around like a problem to solve.
Lara isn’t just “the possessed girl.” She’s a fully realized person crushed between competing belief systems:
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medical science,
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religion,
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social pressure,
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and her own fractured sense of self.
Watching her slowly surrender her autonomy because she trusts the wrong people is far scarier than any CGI demon could ever be. This isn’t a movie about a girl losing control of her body to Satan — it’s about a woman losing control of her life to other humans.
And that hits harder than any jump scare.
Science vs. Faith vs. Ego
One of the strongest threads in Godless is the tension between Dr. Marsa Walsh (Eliza Matengu) and the religious exorcism crew.
Dr. Walsh represents:
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diagnosis,
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medication,
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trauma-informed care,
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boundaries,
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and irritating things like “evidence” and “consent.”
Ron and his circle represent:
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deliverance,
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spiritual warfare,
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authority without oversight,
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and the belief that suffering is proof the treatment is “working.”
The tragedy isn’t that Lara chooses one side over the other; it’s that those sides are fighting over her instead of for her. She’s a battleground more than a patient or a parishioner.
This film is basically what happens if you treat mental illness like a demon and ego like holy water. Spoiler: it does not go well.
Horror Without Cheap Tricks
If you come in expecting spinny heads and demon voice filters, you’re going to be disappointed — and then quietly impressed.
Nick Kozakis doesn’t rely on:
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jump scares every ten seconds,
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over-produced possession FX,
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or “gotcha” moments.
Instead, the horror builds through:
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long, claustrophobic exorcism sessions,
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increasingly harsh rituals,
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the way the group normalizes abuse as “God’s will,”
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and the awful realization that there is nobody in the room willing to hit the brakes.
It’s the kind of horror that makes you tense in the shoulders and mutter “oh no no no no” as people calmly make terrible decisions in the name of righteousness.
The violence, when it arrives, is raw and grounded, never stylized. There’s nothing fun about it — which is exactly the point. This is not “cool death scene” horror; this is “crime scene in slow motion.”
Faith as a Weapon, Not a Punchline
It would’ve been easy to make this a smug “religion bad, atheism good” movie. Thankfully, Godless is smarter than that.
It’s not mocking faith. It’s dissecting:
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hierarchical church structures,
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charismatic leaders unchecked,
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communities that shame doubt,
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and the way “we’re just trying to help” can become a shield for horror.
Some characters are sincere but misguided. Some are controlling. Some are complicit because it’s easier than speaking up. It feels painfully human all around.
The film’s title, Godless, isn’t really about the lack of God. It’s about people committing atrocities while claiming to act in God’s name. If anything, the story suggests that whatever divine compassion might exist, it’s nowhere near this exorcism circle.
Dark Humor: The “Oh, Humans…” Kind
It’s not a comedy, but there’s a certain bleak humor that creeps in — the kind you get when you recognize real-world absurdity dialed just slightly higher.
Things like:
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a dude with a cross and zero qualifications telling a medical professional to stop interfering,
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family members nodding along as clearly unsafe rituals escalate because “that’s just how it’s done,”
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or the quiet horror of realizing the safest person in the room is the one everyone calls “the enemy of faith.”
You don’t laugh at the victims, you laugh bitterly at the systems. It’s the same uncomfortable chuckle you let out when you hear, “No, we didn’t consult a doctor, we prayed about it,” and you suddenly fear for everyone involved.
Performances and Atmosphere: Low Budget, High Impact
For an indie Australian horror, the film looks and feels tight:
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The locations are minimal — homes, church spaces, clinical rooms — but used effectively.
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The camera often stays close, creating a suffocating intimacy.
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Sound design leans into breathing, muttering, chanting — all the small noises of a room closing in.
Dan Ewing’s cool, collected menace and Georgia Eyers’ exhausted vulnerability elevate every scene they share. The supporting cast, especially Rosie Traynor and Eliza Matengu, help ground the story in something that feels uncomfortably real.
There’s no sense of “we’re play-acting horror.” It feels like we’re watching found footage from a real disastrous exorcism. The fact that this is loosely inspired by real events only adds to the dread.
Why It Works (and Why It Hurts)
What makes Godless: The Eastfield Exorcism so effective is that it never lets you hide behind “well, at least this is just fantasy.” There are no spinning beds. No fire-breathing demons. No priests battling evil with epic Latin monologues.
Instead, you get:
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a woman in crisis,
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a partner out of his depth,
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a doctor ignored,
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and a religious figure so sure he’s right he becomes the scariest thing in the room.
And somewhere in the middle, you realize: this isn’t a monster movie. It’s a tragedy.
Final Verdict: Faith-Based Horror, Minus the Comfort
Godless: The Eastfield Exorcism is grim, gripping, and quietly devastating — a rare exorcism film that’s less concerned with hellfire and more with how human beings can create their own.
Come for the exorcism horror, stay for the excellent performances, and leave with the unsettling realization that the scariest thing in the world might not be a demon … but a room full of people absolutely convinced they’re saving your soul while they slowly destroy your life.
