lisa mcgee returns with an eight-episode blend of mystery and comedy that follows three friends into a strange, dangerous odyssey across Ireland — sharp, funny and emotionally charged.
The new Netflix series How to Get to Heaven from Belfast arrives as a hybrid: equal parts laugh-out-loud camaraderie and puzzle-box suspense. Created by Lisa McGee, the show reunites some of the creative energy behind Derry Girls but shifts tone, stretching into hourlong episodes that marry comedic beats with a gradually unfurling crime narrative. At its center are three longtime friends — the TV writer Saoirse, the overwhelmed mother Robyn and the devoted carer Dara — whose reunion to attend a wake quickly becomes the catalyst for a cross-border mystery that forces each of them to examine old wounds and hidden choices.
Mixing genres like this can be risky; many shows simply sprinkle humor over suspense and hope the audience accepts both. Here, McGee commits to treating the series as a true comedic mystery, allowing jokes and character-driven levity to coexist with ominous clues and escalating danger. The plot nods to classic whodunit mechanics — a suspicious death, a patchwork of alibis, and red herrings — while also indulging in scenes of domestic chaos, sharp banter, and physical comedy. That balance means the tone shifts often, sometimes landing as warm satire about adult friendships and other times as an old-school investigation with stakes that feel increasingly real.
The trio at the heart of the story anchors the series. Roísín Gallagher’s Saoirse is a bitterly funny creator tired of her own success; Sinéad Keenan’s Robyn is stretched thin by motherhood; Caoilfhionn Dunne’s Dara carries quiet grief and unmet longings. Their chemistry sells both the humor and the sorrow. Supporting roles — including a memorable late cameo from Saoirse-Monica Jackson — add spice and occasional menace, while performers like Emmett J. Scanlan and Michelle Fairley give the surrounding village a texture that ranges from mournful to menacing. The ensemble’s timing and commitment help the show navigate tonal shifts that could otherwise feel jarring.
Below the surface of the mystery, the series explores themes of regret, identity, and the stories we tell about our lives. McGee uses the device of a writer protagonist to examine creative compromise and the cost of success, while the three friends’ shared history reveals a traumatic event that refuses to stay buried. Scenes that begin as comic set pieces often end up revealing emotional truths, and the show frequently returns to the idea that friendship can be both a safeguard and a source of buried tension. Those quieter moments provide the emotional payoff that makes the final revelations land.
Structurally, the season is a deliberate puzzle. Early episodes set up character dynamics and a sense of mystery; middle chapters weave in local lore, flashbacks, and misdirection that can feel labyrinthine; the later episodes resolve major plotlines and lean into the emotional consequences. At times the series indulges in complexity that slows the laughs, creating a stretch where mystery mechanics overshadow comedic momentum. Yet when the threads come together, the payoff reveals thematic coherence and a serious center beneath the jokes. Viewers who enjoy multilayered plotting will likely appreciate the payoff, even if the route there is occasionally meandering.
Strengths include the sharp dialogue, consistent ensemble performances, and the way character drama anchors the mystery. The show’s humor feels earned because it grows naturally from the characters’ personalities rather than existing only as tonal gloss. Potential drawbacks are pacing dips and a level of specificity that might leave casual viewers wanting a crisper, more focused whodunit. Still, for audiences who value smart comedic writing and emotional depth alongside their suspense, this series is a satisfying synthesis.
How to Get to Heaven from Belfast demonstrates that genre-mixing can pay off when each element is given weight and care. Lisa McGee’s writing leans into both laughter and pathos, crafting a show that rewards attention and emotional investment. It is not a perfect ride — some episodes are busier than necessary — but the combination of standout performances, clever plotting, and genuine feeling makes it a notable addition to contemporary TV crime-comedy hybrids. Fans of character-led mysteries and sharp ensemble comedy will find a lot to like in this Irish odyssey.