Review: how to get to heaven from belfast — a frenetic, female-led murder-mystery that demands attention
Lisa McGee’s new eight-part series lands as a darkly comic road-trip thriller anchored by three magnetic leads and a central mystery that refuses to let go. Equal parts wit and menace, the show pairs razor-sharp dialogue with a sprawling patchwork of Irish locations and an energy that rarely relents.
Friends, secrets and a body that may not be the body
The premise is simple and deliciously volatile: three former schoolfriends reunite for the funeral of the fourth in their gang, only to suspect that the woman in the coffin might not be who everyone believes. Saoirse, a TV crime writer with a knack for suspicion; Robyn, a frazzled mother pushed to the edge; and Dara, a carer with loyalty etched into her bones, form the unlikely sleuthing trio. Flashbacks to a frightening night in the woods two decades earlier hang over every scene, and a matching occult marking becomes the clue that propels them into an investigation that rapidly becomes both personal and dangerous.
McGee keeps the pace taut, balancing comedic set pieces and barbed exchanges with escalating stakes. There are moments of genuine menace—chief among them a terrifyingly calm local cop who complicates the trio’s efforts—and moments of such comic precision that the show feels immediate and vividly alive.
Cast, tone and creative DNA
The series wears its creator’s fingerprints: the winning combination of warmth and havoc that made earlier work so irresistible is present here, but sharpened into a darker, more combustible form. The three leads bring complementary energies: a restless intelligence, wounded humor and stubborn courage that make their friendship believable even when their choices are reckless. A particularly sensational turn from one supporting performer gives the show a jolting, memorable center in scenes that alternate between bone-dry comedy and outright dread.
McGee’s stated inspiration—an off-kilter, modern take on the classic cozy-meets-thriller format—shows in the show’s structural confidence. It deploys road-trip beats, small-town eccentricities and a spiraling mystery with an appetite for genre blending. At times the momentum is so relentless viewers might wish for a breather; at others, that relentless drive is the show’s chief pleasure.
Where it was made and why the locations matter
The series travels: more than a hundred sites across Northern Ireland, the Republic and beyond were brought into play, giving the production a cinematic sweep. From ruined convent corridors that double as haunted memory space to windswept roads and bustling wakes, the settings are integral to the storytelling. They lend texture and scale to what might otherwise be a compact mystery, and the journey through varied landscapes echoes the characters’ emotional excavation.
Visually, the show mixes intimate interiors with widescreen exteriors, using place as a character in its own right. That physical geography helps the script avoid cliché; these are contemporary, complicated people living amid a real and shifting island landscape, not easy caricatures of a remembered past.
For audiences drawn to sharp writing, strong female ensembles and mysteries that refuse to be tidy, this series is essential viewing. It’s a show that wears its influences lightly, trades on a winning mix of humor and menace, and showcases performances that will be talked about long after the credits roll.
