The thing about cults is that no one willingly joins one. It just sort of happens with time. Dependency on the leader slowly becomes a necessity, outside relationships become fraught, and one’s perspective of the outside world begins to narrow. One woman’s experience with a clandestine religious group is detailed in the new documentary Q, a fervent portrait of faith and how unconditional commitment has the potential to cause more harm than good.

Making its World Premiere in the Documentary Competition at Tribeca Film Festival, Lebanese-American filmmaker Jude Chehab documents her mother’s experience as a Muslim woman in the Qubaysiat, a secret, all-female Islamic religious order led by “Anisa.” Anisa’s identity is not revealed, however, her grip on Jude’s mother, Hiba, is strong. Anisa requires all followers in the sisterhood to engage in full days of prayer–up to 17 hours–among other things, and Hiba dutifully obeys as much as she can.

As a wife, mother, and teacher, her time is stretched thin but she always prioritizes the Qubaysiat, much to the bewilderment of her daughter, filmmaker Jude, and the irritation of her husband. “Love is very dangerous,” Hiba reminds Jude. But it’s nearly impossible to decipher if Hiba is referring to her love for her husband, or her love for Anisa. After witnessing Hiba’s devotion, it’s hard to know who she loves more.

Visually, Q is stunning and incorporates many pops of art-film moments that juxtapose the traditional Eastern subject matter. Making her directorial debut, Jude Chehab commands the screen with a strong eye and creative storytelling methods. Archival footage of Jude as a child puts necessary context into the story, as we see Hiba’s evolution from then to now. Peeking into their personal lives feels very intimate but never an invasion of privacy. The score by composer William Ryan Fritch is also phenomenal, with beautiful strings and melodic drum beats that particularly highlight moments of tension and release.

Q ultimately shows how blind devotion can cause more harm than good. Given that the documentary was made by Hiba’s daughter, the film is innately told through an empathetic lens. This unique perspective is Q‘s biggest strength. The moments of beauty and the moments of pain are met with compassion by the director and, therefore, the audience.

“That’s life. It has to end. May we have a good ending,” says Hiba toward the end of the film. I think we can all agree that this is a sentiment that rings true regardless of faith. For Hiba, Jude, and their family, we are optimistic that their ending is filled with more peace.