Walking the Tightrope Between Cutting-Edge Science and Ancient Mysticism
★★★★★★ (Note: I've kept the star rating for consistency, but let's dive deeper into why this documentary sparks such heated debates.)
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FILM
Edge of Life ★★
113 minutes (M)
Imagine a documentary that boldly champions psychedelics not just as potential medical aids, but as gateways to spiritual awakening and even confronting our deepest fears about mortality. If that sounds intriguing yet unsettling, you're right on the money—Edge of Life treads a dangerous path between rigorous science and mystical shamanism, and it's bound to leave you questioning your own beliefs. But here's where it gets controversial: this Australian-made film promotes the therapeutic use of psychedelics in a way that's refreshingly open-minded, yet arguably too one-sided, without much pushback from skeptics.
Right from the start, one interviewee bluntly admits to being 'allergic to woo-woo'—that's code for anyone wary of new-age spirituality mixed with medicine. If that resonates with you, you might want to approach this film cautiously. It dives headfirst into advocating psychedelics like psilocybin (the active compound in magic mushrooms) for treating mental health issues such as anxiety and depression, but it extends that advocacy into realms of personal transformation and defying the dread of death. For beginners in this topic, psychedelics are mind-altering substances that can profoundly change perceptions of reality, often used in controlled settings for therapeutic breakthroughs.
The director, Lynette Wallworth, doesn't hold back, and while that's part of its charm, it's a shame she doesn't inject more critical distance—the core topic is genuinely compelling. The story kicks off in Melbourne's St Vincent’s Hospital, where psychiatrists and psychologists are exploring these substances in end-of-life care. Specifically, we meet Dr. Justin Dwyer, a psychiatrist, and Dr. Marg Ross, a clinical psychologist, as they conduct a study involving psilocybin with terminally ill patients.
Much of the action unfolds behind the scenes: Wallworth was only granted access to film a handful of the 35 participants in the research, each grappling with the ultimate reality—knowing death is approaching and figuring out how to embrace life despite it. These individuals are anonymized by first names only, adding a layer of intimacy. Take Flavia, for instance, a woman in her thirties diagnosed with late-stage cancer; she first noticed symptoms while backpacking through Mozambique, and her husband Chris plays a supportive role throughout her journey. Then there's Ros, an older woman also battling cancer, who draws strength from her Christian faith but worries deeply about the impact of her passing on her grown children.
Regardless of your stance on these substances, watching these segments evokes a powerful emotional response—perhaps even discomfort at the intrusion of cameras during raw moments, like when Ros receives devastating news over the phone in real time. It's a reminder of how personal and poignant end-of-life experiences can be.
And this is the part most people miss: the film shifts its focus to the doctors themselves, particularly the calm and logical Dwyer, who realizes he needs to experience psychedelics firsthand to truly grasp what his patients are going through. So, he and Ross venture into the Amazon rainforest, where a shaman from the Yawanawa tribe facilitates an ayahuasca ceremony. Ayahuasca, for those new to this, is a traditional brew made from plants that induces intense visions and is used in indigenous rituals for healing and insight. Dwyer returns transformed, his scientific worldview shaken—he begins to doubt the idea that consciousness ends with the body.
The challenge lies in depicting this inner journey on screen. Wallworth tries with creative tools like animation, slow-motion footage of nature, ocean waves, and 3D visualizations from her VR background, all underscored by Antony Partos’ dreamy, new-age soundtrack. It's all designed to draw viewers into a believer's viewpoint. Yet, even for those open to it, nothing matches the raw honesty of Dwyer—normally the one explaining concepts patiently—struggling to articulate his experience afterward.
But here's the controversy that really divides audiences: Is this film blurring ethical lines by blending medical science with spiritual shamanism without addressing potential risks or biases? Some might argue it's empowering and innovative, offering hope where traditional medicine falls short. Others could see it as dangerously uncritical, potentially misleading viewers about the complexities of psychedelics. What do you think—should documentaries like this encourage such bold explorations, or do they need more balanced perspectives? Share your thoughts in the comments; I'd love to hear if you agree, disagree, or have your own experiences with these topics!
Reviewed by Jake Wilson
In cinemas November 13
