Netflix’s How To Get To Heaven From Belfast is an ode to the beautiful chaos of female friendship
Lisa McGee’s new show, How To Get To Heaven From Belfast, is the female friendship paean we’ve been waiting for.
There’s something timeless about a tale of women and the friendships that shape them – the kind of friendships that are loud, unpolished, confusing, hilarious and, somehow, indestructible.
How To Get To Heaven From Belfast, the new comedy from Derry Girls creator Lisa McGee, weaves a tale about three women on the cusp of remembering, misremembering and laughing their way through life when it doesn’t turn out quite like they expected. And, thanks to the brilliant writing and onscreen talents of Roísín Gallagher, Sinéad Keenan and Caoilfhionn Dunne, it feels like a warm, chaotic hug to anyone who has ever loved a friend through life’s messiest moments.
“We got the gang back together,” McGee tells Tudum. “This is the show I’ve always wanted to make; a mash‑up of my two favourite genres: mystery and comedy. We want to keep you guessing and keep you laughing. I can’t wait for you to meet Saoirse, Robyn and Dara, and go on this wild, weird adventure with them – an Irish odyssey – full of twists, turns and arguments about eyelash extensions.”
Watch the trailer for How To Get To Heaven From Belfast below
The joy of McGee’s work has always been her ability to make female friendships feel real. She leans into all of the passion, frustration, hilarity, weirdness, profundity and sometimes terrifying closeness that friendship entails. You never have to question the intensity of her characters; it’s the kind of intensity we recognise from our own lives.
In a culture that still too often defaults to men’s stories (behind the camera as well as in front of it), McGee’s work stands out not just for its humour, but for its insistence on nuance. According to the Celluloid Ceiling report from the Center for the Study of Women in Television & Film, women made up only about 21% of directors, writers, producers, executive producers, editors and cinematographers working on the top 100 grossing films in 2025, and just 7% of those films employed 10 or more women in key behind‑the-scenes roles. Even when women work in the industry, there’s no guarantee they’ll get to shape narratives outside the male gaze, which is why women-centred stories like How To Get To Heaven From Belfast feel so vital.
Basically, it’s one of those relationships in life that too often goes overlooked. Or, if it does get thrown under the lens, it’s treated superficially. McGee, however, has a knack for capturing the silly, complicated moments in all their beautiful glory in a way that feels instantly relatable.
I met one of my best friends 15 years ago in the least likely place: a lecture on children’s literature. She spotted my Alice In Wonderland T-shirt, loved it, and texted me to invite me for a drink. I had no clue who I was meeting, but I’ve always been a sucker for a compliment – and my life changed forever in that moment.
Since then, we’ve built a bond on karaoke nights, West End musicals, enemies-to-lovers fiction, too-cheesy pasta and a fervent circulation of memes that make zero sense to anyone else. We’ve had rocky patches, awkward carpark confrontations and moments of sheer panic. I remember watching Scream together once, seeing a shadowy figure outside and running for the car – only for her to beat me there, panic and refuse to unlock the doors. I now know she would happily leave me to be brutally murdered, yet we still laugh about it.
That’s friendship in its purest, most unflinching form: combustible, unwieldy and miraculously enduring. And that unflinching quality is exactly what McGee captures on screen. Like the best friendships we know in real life, Saoirse, Robyn and Dara argue, they bicker, they make mistakes, and yet they keep showing up for each other. It’s not perfect. It’s not always pretty. And it doesn’t need to be. How To Get To Heaven From Belfast revels in imperfection, showing how love, loyalty and memory can survive even the strangest circumstances.
“Too often, TV takes us from our 20s straight to being someone’s granny,” Caoilfhionn Dunne, who plays Dara, says in an interview with the Irish Daily Mirror. “But just like men, women go through so many stages in life, and we need to see all of them — to know we’re not going mad, and that we’re not alone in whatever is happening at whatever stage of life we’re in.”
Roísín Gallagher adds: “One of the things the show does is really highlight the preciousness of friendships formed in those formative teenage years, when you’re experiencing your firsts, stepping out of childhood into adulthood, and trying to figure out what you want to do, who you want to be and what you want to say. If you’re lucky enough to have a few people around you that you can trust and grow up alongside, that bond is incredibly precious and very easy to lose touch with, especially today.”
This is the same reason we loved Wicked, and particularly the song For Good. Female friendships in their unfiltered intensity are rare in popular culture. They’re too often background noise, supporting cast or glossed-over plot points. McGee, though, has already proven she has zero qualms about giving women the full messy spectrum of fierceness, vulnerability, ridiculousness and profundity. It’s the combination of dark and light, absurdity and tenderness, that makes us recognise ourselves and our friends in her work.
There’s also a particular joy in the weird, small details: arguments over eyelash extensions, shared jokes no one else gets, the way certain memories trigger laughter or groans. These are the building blocks of friendship. They’re the stories we carry long after the rest of it is gone.
And that’s why How To Get To Heaven From Belfast isn’t just a comedy, but an ode to women who persist in one another’s lives, and who witness each other’s growth, failures, heartbreaks and victories. It’s about the unspoken pact friends make: to know each other fully, to be there even when inconvenient and to laugh through everything life throws in your path.
This is why we watch, why we care and why messy, indestructible female friendships deserve their place at the centre of the story. On screen and in our lives. Forever and (hopefully) ever.
Watch How To Get To Heaven From Belfast on Netflix from 12 February.
Images: Netflix













