What Dancing for the Devil teaches us about cults, exploitation, and control
Netflix’s Dancing for the Devil: The 7M TikTok Cult is a documentary series that pulls back the curtain on a world where faith, fame, and control intersect. At first glance, the story appears to be about TikTok dancers chasing viral success and the promise of career opportunities through 7M Films, a talent agency led by pastor Robert Shinn. But as the series unfolds, it appears that the dancers’ journeys are less about stardom and more about manipulation and exploitation.
Cults have fascinated and terrified us for centuries. Often portrayed as secretive groups with charismatic leaders demanding unwavering loyalty, cults lure followers with promises of belonging, purpose, or spiritual enlightenment. When we look closer, the dynamics within these groups share much in common with human trafficking, relying on isolation, manipulation, and exploitation to control seemingly vulnerable people.
Dancing for the Devil explores these blurred lines, and offers more than just a cautionary tale about social media fame and fortune. It challenges viewers to see trafficking not just as a distant crime but as one that we see often, one that is hiding in plain sight.
Human trafficking & cult dynamics: a brief overview
To be clear, cults and human trafficking are not the same thing. However, they do share many of the same core methods of control and exploitation. The following patterns are often present in both situations:
Isolation from support networks: Cutting members off from friends, family, and outside influences to increase dependency.
Financial exploitation: Requiring large “donations” or taking a significant portion of a person’s income.
Psychological control: Using fear, guilt, and other manipulative tactics to discourage questioning or leaving.
Exploitation of vulnerability: Targeting individuals during periods of personal, financial, or emotional instability.
Shame and fear of disbelief: Victims may feel a deep sense of shame about their situation and worry that others won’t believe them if they speak out.
Uncertainty about the future: Victims may struggle to imagine how they would adapt or survive if they left, making leaving feel overwhelming or impossible.
While cults and human trafficking differ, it’s clear they share many of the same manipulative tactics. In fact, cult members may be involved in a trafficking situation without even realizing it. This documentary brings these parallels into sharp focus.
A modern case study
The three-part documentary Dancing for the Devil: The 7M TikTok Cult dives into the world of 7M Films, a talent management company intertwined with Shekinah Church, both led by pastor Robert Shinn. The story primarily follows two different pairs of sisters who worked with Shinn - the influencers Melanie Wilking and Miranda Derrick (formerly Wilking) and Melanie and Priscylla Lee. The documentary also features testimonies of other dancers who have since left 7M and are now seeking justice.
The LA-based Shekinah church started out small in the 1990s, beginning with around fifteen members according to Melanie Lee. Shinn opened several businesses during the earlier years of the church, including a café, two mortgage companies, two real estate firms, and two flower shops. Members of the church made up the workforce for all these businesses. They were paid very little and were required to work 12-hour shifts; Lee recalls earning just $100 a week while working for Shinn.
Shinn founded 7M in 2021 and began finding dancers, like Miranda Derrick, on TikTok. He positioned 7M Films as a platform promising young dancers exposure, career growth, and community. However, behind its glossy social media presence, the company operated with strict control over its talent. Dancers were often required to give a significant portion of their earnings back to the organization through fees, donations, and “spiritual contributions” to the Shekinah Church. Personal freedoms were also tightly restricted. Members were strongly encouraged to cut ties with family and friends who questioned the group, isolating members from any outside influence.
Derrick became increasingly estranged from her family after joining Shinn’s group. Her parents and sister grew alarmed when she cut communication with them and stopped attending family events, even missing her grandfather’s funeral.
Derrick is still a member of 7M and continues to post dancing videos on her social media accounts. Following the departure of multiple 7M dancers from the company, Shinn changed his tune on allowing members to contact their families. Derrick and her family now speak to each other on occasion, though they aren’t allowed to ask or talk about 7M or the Shekinah Church. Derrick’s sister, Melanie, says these interactions are “superficial” and have all been carefully orchestrated to improve her sister’s social media presence.
When we peel back the layers, many of the tactics Shinn used mirror those seen in cases of human trafficking.
Traffickers do not always use physical violence, locked doors, or chains to control their victims. They use invisible restraints, such as psychological manipulation, financial dependency, and isolation from support networks, to maintain control over victims. In this case, we see Shinn and 7M have created a closed and tightly controlled environment for members, where dancers rely on the organization not just for work and an income, but for housing, spiritual guidance, and social connection as well. This dependency makes it incredibly difficult for members to leave, even when feeling exploited.
Pressuring members to give up large portions of their income is common in cases of labour trafficking, especially when paired with coercion, manipulation, or abuse of power. In such cases, the financial dependency it creates becomes a tool of control, trapping individuals in the situation.
The 7M story may be told through the lens of TikTok fame, but the patterns (recruitment through false promises, isolation from loved ones, financial exploitation and control, and psychological coercion) are the same ones we often see in cases of human trafficking.
Life after leaving
Leaving a high-control group like 7M is only the first step, not the finish line. The effects of psychological control and manipulation don’t disappear the moment someone walks away. Healing from an experience like this can take years. Survivors often leave carrying shame, self-doubt, a fear of stigma and judgment, and feelings of fear or hopelessness over the daunting task of rebuilding their lives.
Priscylla Lee, the second of the Lee sisters to leave Shekinah Church, shares her story with a quiet caution. Her hesitation speaks volumes about the lasting impact of manipulation and control, and the complex healing process that begins after leaving a high-control group. Her courage, strength, and vulnerability in sharing even part of her story reveals the extraordinary resilience of those who have left a life of exploitation.
Recent federal investigation and allegations
The story of 7M Films and Shekinah Church took a significant turn in July 2025, when federal authorities executed a raid on the home of pastor Robert Shinn in Tujunga, California. This action is part of an ongoing federal investigation into multiple allegations of sex trafficking, money laundering, tax evasion and fraud connected to Shinn and his organizations. Further details about the raid and investigation are currently restricted under seal in federal court.
Conclusion
We see human trafficking more often than we think. Dancing for the Devil reminds us that exploitation doesn’t always look like the image of it that we have in our heads. It can be dressed up in promises of fame, opportunity, and belonging, while quietly stripping away autonomy, security, and connection to the outside world.
The 7M case echoes many of the same red flags we see in cases of labour trafficking: recruitment through false promises, financial manipulation, isolation, and psychological control. By recognizing these patterns, we can start to see exploitation for what it is, no matter the setting. Our role, as viewers and as a society, is to look beyond the surface and call out exploitation when we see it.