Review: how to get to heaven from belfast — Derry Girls DNA fuels a dark, frenetic caper
Lisa McGee’s new eight-part mystery-thriller blends the comic verve of her earlier work with a darker, road-trip energy. When three middle-aged friends gather for the funeral of an estranged fourth, what begins as grief quickly becomes suspicion, then a chaotic investigation that propels the series through rural landscapes, tense confrontations and vividly drawn character moments. The result is a show that is as funny as it is unsettling, anchored by well-timed performances and nimble plotting.
Plot and tone
The premise is simple and effective: Dara, Saoirse and Robyn — friends since school — reunite for the funeral of Greta, the fourth member of their teenage gang. Flashbacks reveal a traumatic night in a forest shack two decades earlier, complete with ominous symbols and a shared secret that never fully healed. At the wake, Saoirse, now a television crime writer, notices something amiss: the body in the coffin lacks a distinctive occult tattoo the four friends once shared. Suspicion hardens quickly into action, and the trio set off on a chaotic sleuthing mission that feels part caper, part revenge play and part dark comedy.
The tone constantly balances levity and menace. McGee’s scripting keeps the pace brisk; scenes oscillate between quick, character-driven gags and moments of genuine dread. The series frequently leans into absurdity — roadside tangents, bickering friendships and sharp cultural observations — but it never loses sight of the emotional undercurrent that binds the women together. There are instances where the momentum barely pauses for breath, which is exhilarating but occasionally leaves viewers wishing for a quieter beat to let certain revelations land.
Cast, characters and production
The ensemble is a major asset. Saoirse-Monica Jackson delivers a sensational turn that brings unpredictable energy to the group dynamic. Alongside her, Sinéad Keenan’s portrayal of a stressed mother and Caoilfhionn Dunne’s grounded performance as a carer provide the series with heartfelt ballast. The absent Greta haunts the narrative even in absence, and performances from supporting cast members — particularly those portraying family and local authorities — add layers of menace and intrigue.
Muscular location work gives the series a cinematic sweep. Filming spans a wide geographic canvas, stretching across Northern Ireland, the Republic of Ireland and beyond, with more than a hundred locations used to evoke both pastoral calm and ominous isolation. That breadth of setting helps the show feel expansive while remaining rooted in the specific textures of contemporary life on the island.
McGee has said she imagined the show as a modern, funny take on classic mystery formats. That ambition pays off: the series tips a hat to murder-mystery conventions while subverting them through sharply drawn female perspectives and an irreverent sense of humour. A key production choice — using flashback fragments and visual callbacks to the girls’ teenage trauma — keeps the mystery threaded through personal history rather than simple procedural beats.
Why it matters now
Beyond thrills and laughs, the series reframes a familiar creative voice in a new register. Viewers who loved McGee’s earlier work will find comparable rapid-fire comedy and affection for flawed, loud characters, but here those qualities are married to a darker center. The show also resists easy caricature: its characters are complex, modern and often messy, and the series takes care to show a contemporary island that is at once recognizable and varied.
Ultimately, this is a show that thrives on momentum and personality. It’s a road trip full of sharp one-liners, sudden shocks and an insistence that friendship, even when strained by secrets and time, can be a powerful engine for truth-seeking. For viewers in search of a mystery that moves fast, lands its jokes and keeps its emotional stakes high, this series is a strong contender for one of the standout dramas of the season.
