Fake Shaman is a documentary true-crime feed built around fraud, religious authority, and the damage done when vulnerable people are asked to trust the wrong person. Its announced central story begins in southern Maine, around a self-styled shaman, a nighttime fire pit, psychedelics, alcohol, fear, and women trying to get distance from a ritual scene that has turned threatening. That material sits beside the Unholy Fathers archive, which gives the show its working method in full view. It starts with names and dates. Then it adds records, interviews, remembered details, institutional letters, and the narrator’s own blunt conclusions. The Springfield, Massachusetts episodes are especially grim. They follow survivors and families through Catholic abuse allegations, the murder of Danny Croteau, the history of Richard Lavigne, and C’s attempt to get recognition from the Diocese of Springfield over assaults committed by Father Charles Sullivan. The show does not pretend that process is neutral. A diocesan investigation, a review board, a delayed interview, and a three-page fax become evidence of how power makes victims wait. Short details do heavy work. A song at a school assembly. A priest’s paintings. Tire-mark questions near a murder scene. A survivor’s shingles and hair loss during an investigation. The storytelling is brisk but cumulative, with each scene pushing toward a larger charge about evasion, memory, and accountability. It can be compassionate, too, especially when it pauses for C, Kat, and the people left carrying the aftermath. Fake Shaman is for listeners who can handle distressing material and want reporting that is sourced, opinionated, and unwilling to tidy up harm for comfort. It is grave, skeptical, and human.