The fire crackles low, the night presses in, and somewhere beyond the flickering light a child’s touch can end a life. That is the world of Killing Faith, the new supernatural Western set in the plague-scarred Arizona Territory of 1849. At its center stands Sarah—a freed woman convinced her daughter is possessed—and Dr. Bender, a grieving physician who still clings to the cold comfort of science. Their journey across a land ruled by fear and superstition is the story DeWanda Wise has just stepped off set to tell.
“It was a lot of fun to make,” she says, voice still carrying the dust of the trail, “even though every time I showed up something gross was happening.” She laughs, the kind that comes after long nights and longer silences. “Those are the scenes that are the most fun to shoot.”
Night shoots dominated the schedule—because, as Wise points out, “so much of the danger happens at night.” Around dying campfires or in the hush after the flames have gone out, the ensemble cast dropped deep into character. “You’re working with performers at the top of their game,” she remembers. “Really interesting, really present. Those nights were my favorites.”
Wise plays Sarah with a mother’s ferocity and a believer’s doubt. The role demanded more than stamina across brutal terrain; it required guardianship. “I have a no-traumatizing-children rule,” she says firmly. “I was enormously protective of Emily, of the guest performers who appear for just a scene or two, even of the horses making sure they stayed hydrated.” On a set where death rides close, kindness became its own quiet rebellion.
Working opposite legends only sharpened the experience. “Guy Pearce is the best,” she says without hesitation. “Bill Pullman, Raul Castillo—when you admire someone’s work and then discover they’re also a great hang, it’s rare. You walk away with more wisdom than you arrived with.”
The film itself is a crucible. Science and the supernatural lock horns across a landscape that offers no easy answers. “There’s a battle between the two,” Wise explains, “and we’re living in a moment that feels very black-and-white. This movie says there’s room for gray, for ambiguity. Multiple truths can live in the same reality.”
She hopes audiences leave the theater wrestling with that tension—questioning the lengths we travel for hope, the bargains we strike with fear. “You don’t have to choose,” she says. “We could all afford to live a little more in the space between.”
Long before Killing Faith, Wise’s own Hail Mary moment came in 2016: a micro-budget indie shot over one summer with borrowed NYU equipment. “A friend said, ‘Want to do it?’ We did. It went to Sundance.” The film relaunched her career and taught her the lesson she still carries onto every set: “Invest in yourself. Believe in yourself before anyone else does.”
On the rugged locations of Killing Faith, that belief was tested daily. “I’m super moment-to-moment,” she admits. “I don’t have to shoot the whole movie today. I just have to tell the truth of this one scene.” It’s advice she’d give any aspiring actor aching to stand where she stands now: “Get on as many sets as you can, in any capacity. See what the job actually is. We’re construction workers in the end—building something real, together.”
As the conversation winds down, one image lingers: Wise on horseback at dawn, dust swirling, a child’s life balanced against every mile. Killing Faith is entertainment, yes—brutal, beautiful, terrifying—but it is also a mirror. In the end, we all ride through the dark looking for light, and the question is never whether we’ll find it, but what we’re willing to believe when we do.
Killing Faith is on demand and digital November 4th. Bring your doubts. Leave your certainties at the door.
