When you make a movie about Scientology . . . Louis Theroux's church adventures

On a sunny afternoon in Hollywood, three figures strolled through a residential neighborhood just south of Sunset Boulevard. As they paused to chat, a stranger clad in black and sporting a walkie-talkie made a beeline for them on a bicycle.

“Hello,” he said. “Do you need help with anything today?” Fresh faced and exceedingly polite, he focused his attention on one member of the trio, a tall and bespectacled Brit in his 40s. “No, we’re just walking around.”

“If you need anything,” the young man said, holding out his hand expectantly, “my name’s Alex.”

“I’m Louis,” answered the Brit, warily returning the handshake. Seemingly satisfied, Alex smiled, remounted his bike and rode off down the sidewalk without bothering to address the man’s companions.

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