“All hail Jessie Buckley, patron saint of glorious discomfort”

There are actors who dominate headlines, and there are actors who quietly, relentlessly do the most interesting work of their generation, yet somehow still feel criminally under-discussed. Jessie Buckley is firmly in the second camp, and it’s honestly starting to feel absurd.

Ever since I first saw her in Beast, I’ve always found myself excited when Buckley’s name is attached to a project. She’s emotional intensity personified, refusing to soften characters or make them palatable. Instead, she leans into their contradictions, their ugliness, their bravery, their fury and deftly makes all of that mess feel human.

Look at the run: Wicked Little Letters, I’m Thinking Of Ending Things, Men, The Lost Daughter, Women Talking – not one of these titles is designed for comfort viewing. Instead, they are confrontational, often unsettling and frequently ambiguous. And Buckley doesn’t just star in them; she makes a point of stepping into these stories and using them as a launchpad to gift us the kind of women who are allowed to be difficult, wrong, sharp-edged, frightened and brimming with barely contained fury. In an industry that still rewards likability over truth, that is no small thing.

Next on her roster is Hamnet (which has already been recognised by the Critics’ Choice Awards and landed her a Golden Globe nomination) and The Bride! – and, like the other titles on her IMDb page, it’s remarkable how instinctive her choices feel. There’s no sense of career chess here, no visible ladder-climbing. Instead, Buckley seems drawn to stories that spark her curiosity and creativity. The ones that feel less like mass-marketable products and more like an opportunity for serious excavation. The kind that sees Buckley go digging until something raw and deliciously strange is uncovered.

Watch the trailer for Hamnet below:

But then, just when you think you’ve got her pinned as cinema’s reigning queen of unease, she turns up in the BBC animated adaptation of The Scarecrow’s Wedding and absolutely steals your child’s heart along with your own.

As a parent who has read that book more times than feels medically advisable, I’ll say this: I thought I knew Betty O’Barley. And yet it wasn’t until Buckley voiced her that I realised Betty isn’t just a brainless bride waiting patiently in a field: she’s a brave, independent, straw-filled icon who absolutely refuses to be pushed into a life that doesn’t feel right. 

Yup, Jessie managed to smuggle feminist clarity into a Julia Donaldson bedtime staple. That’s range – not to mention further proof that her characters have inner lives that don’t exist merely to service the plot or reflect someone else’s journey. They are the journey.

With all of this in mind, it’s so easy to forget that Buckley first entered public consciousness via the BBC’s I’d Do Anything, a talent show framework that might have nudged a different performer towards safety, charm and mass appeal. Buckley took the exposure and promptly veered off-script, building a career that feels defiantly her own. If anything, her trajectory reads like a quiet refusal to be boxed in by expectation.

Watching Jessie Buckley now feels like watching someone trust the audience enough not to explain herself. She doesn’t oversignal emotion. She doesn’t beg for empathy. She lets discomfort sit in the room. She lets silence do its work. She lets women be strange. And in an era of algorithms, franchises and relentless smoothing of edges, that feels like an absolute bloody gift.

So yes, this is a love letter. To an actor who never chooses the safe option. Who treats acting as a form of inquiry. Who reminds us that the most interesting performances don’t reassure us: they challenge us.

Long may Jessie Buckley continue to make us uncomfortable. I say we’re all the better for it.

Images: UPI, Orion, Netflix