How to Get to Heaven From Belfast: Lisa McGee’s female‑led caper revives Northern Irish wit and mystery
Lisa McGee, the writer best known for a breakout comedy set in Northern Ireland, has followed up with a darker, giddier project that mixes murder mystery with her trademark comic timing. how to get to heaven from belfast centers on a group of old schoolfriends reuniting after the presumed death of a fourth friend — and quickly discovering that more is at stake than grief alone.
Creator’s instincts: messy, female, and fiercely local
McGee has long mined the texture of Northern Irish life for both humour and truth, and this new series leans into that combination. Raised in Derry before the Good Friday Agreement, she brings first‑hand detail to everyday routines that outsiders might find startling; small, specific memories feed a larger sense of place that never feels decorative. That grounding allows the show’s tonal shifts — from slapstick to spine‑tingling — to land with surprising force.
The writer has said she wanted a murder mystery done “her way”: female‑led, messy, and laced with comedy. That brief is evident in the trio at the story’s center, whose loyalty and shared history propel them into an investigation they would rather avoid. The result is less a rigid whodunit than a fast, character‑driven caper that privileges relationships and local colour as much as clues and red herrings.
Plot, performances and critical reaction
The narrative opens with the funeral of Greta, the missing fourth member of a teenage gang whose lives were intertwined by a traumatic night two decades earlier. The three surviving friends — a crime‑writer, a harried mother, and a steadier presence who runs a small business — are pulled back into the past when one of them notices a detail on Greta’s body that doesn’t fit: the occult emblem that once marked the group’s shared secret is absent.
That small mismatch is the spark that ignites an increasingly hectic investigation. The show mines the energy of female friendship — jealousy, protectiveness, shared jokes — while layering in threats that feel genuinely menacing. A particularly unnerving local authority figure adds teeth to the danger, heightening the sense that the women are both vulnerable and underestimated.
Performances have drawn wide attention. One lead delivers a sensational, scene‑stealing turn that captures both rage and vulnerability; supporting players add depth, creating a community that feels lived‑in rather than purely functional to the plot. Critics have praised the series’ pace and its ability to sustain momentum across twists without losing its emotional core.
Availability and what to expect
The series is available to stream on a subscription service. Viewers should expect a show that thrives on tonal contrasts: laugh‑out‑loud banter sits beside genuinely eerie moments, and brisk plotting gives way to quieter scenes that reveal how the past continues to shape the present. If you admired the writer’s earlier work for its warmth and crackle, this new project offers a darker, sharper follow‑up that still knows how to make you laugh.
For audiences seeking a female‑centred mystery with heart and humour, how to get to heaven from belfast delivers a propulsive first season that rewards attention. It’s a show that wears its regional specificity like a badge of honour while serving up twists that will have viewers debating motives long after the credits roll.
