How to Get to Heaven from Belfast review: a frenzied, female-led caper that demands to be seen
Lisa McGee’s latest series, how to get to heaven from belfast, takes the familiar reunion-at-a-funeral premise and detonates it into a breathless, darkly comic whodunit. Sharp plotting, combustible performances and a steady pulse of humour make this one of the year’s most entertaining TV offerings.
Three friends, one secret — and a mystery that won’t let go
The drama begins when three former schoolmates—Dara, Saoirse and Robyn—reconvene for the funeral of their absent fourth friend, Greta. What opens as a routine wake soon shades into something more sinister: inconsistencies around the body, an absence of a shared childhood mark, and a local police chief whose demeanour sets teeth on edge. The trio’s tentative curiosity escalates into an all-out investigation, propelled by old loyalties and a flashback to a youthful trauma in a woodland shack that suggests somebody has been lying for two decades.
At the heart of the series is a dynamic trio of women whose chemistry sells every beat, from bone-dry sarcasm to full-throttle panic. The narrative leans into that chemistry—friendship feels lived-in, messy and, crucially, believable. Scenes that riff on middle-aged anxieties, parenting pressures and small-town petty cruelties land with both humour and honesty, even as the mystery grows stranger and darker.
McGee’s voice: equal parts comedy and tension
Fans of McGee’s previous work will recognise the same energetic DNA: a knack for capturing the music of everyday speech, a fondness for absurdity, and a keenness to let jokes bloom from character. But this project trades straight-out comedy for a hybrid form. Murder-mystery conventions are embraced and undercut; the show wants to be a modern, messy, female-driven take on the cozy-crime template, with panic, profanity and poignancy mixed in.
Where the series truly excels is in pacing. Episodes gallop forward, packing a dense plot into tight running times without losing sight of the human stakes. The occasional breathless rush might leave viewers wishing for a pause to savour quieter moments, yet the momentum rarely feels gratuitous; every revelation advances both plot and character.
Standout turns and why this matters
Performances anchor the show. One lead supplies a sensational, scene-stealing turn that distils the programme’s tone—funny, furious and fragile in equal measure. Supporting players supply menace and mystery where needed: a steely police chief, a grieving mother who is not what she seems, and a circle of town characters who swap gossip like currency. Costume, setting and small local details give the world texture without tipping into cliché.
Beyond thrills and laughs, the series matters because it reframes how stories from Northern Ireland can be told. It refuses to rely solely on historical shorthand and instead focuses on contemporary lives and relationships, even when the past intrudes. The result is a show that feels rooted in place but not trapped by it.
In short, how to get to heaven from belfast is a clever, often hilarious mystery powered by three indelible leads and a writer working at the top of her game. If you’re looking for a tight, female-led caper that balances sharp comedy with genuine suspense, this one deserves a high spot on your must-watch list.
