‘You’ll Never Believe Who’s Dead’ review: A Sligo family attempts to pull off a Christmas heist in raucous Irish black comedy

Dir: Dallan Shovlin. Ireland. 2026. 80mins

It starts, as most heist movies do, with a plan. Yet the Cosgroves aren’t your usual well-organised slick gang of thieves, but a normal, if somewhat dysfunctional family from Sligo, Ireland. Crammed around the dinner table on Christmas Eve, they engage in a hypothetical conversation about which of their neighbours would be easiest to rob. From there, this hugely enjoyable debut from writer/director Dallan Shovlin quickly spirals into a propulsive black comedy which makes the most of its sterling cast and raucous premise.

 Propulsive black comedy makes the most of its sterling cast 

Premiering in Galway, You’ll Never Believe Who’s Dead is a laugh-out-loud crowd-pleaser in the vein of Rich Peppiat’s Kneecap (on which Shovlin worked as second AD) or Edgar Wright’s Cornetto trilogy, leaning into its ‘good people in bad situations’ vibe with winning gusto. Further festival interest is likely, and distributors looking for smart, entertaining adult comedies are likely to take notice. This is certainly a film that plays well in front of a big-screen audience.

Former police chief John Cosgrove (Father Ted star Ardal O’Hanlon) and his wife Mary (Michelle Fairley) are not having a very merry Christmas. It’s the first since the death of Mary’s beloved mother, and their kids JJ (Peter Claffey), Dorian (Jacob McCarthy) and Ellen (Ruth Codd) have descended on their too-small home alongside Mary’s sister Rosaleen (Simone Kirby). To top it off, John has lost his job, and the directionless kids remain a millstone around their necks.

The combined strength of this ensemble cast is evident from the opening scenes, the punchy family dynamic revealing itself as the kids bicker and jostle in the cramped space, Mary attempts to keep the peace and John tries to keep hold of his temper. There’s a naturalism to Shovlin’s screenplay and the performances, which lays a solid foundation for the mad-cappery to follow. Even as events begin to spin wildly out of control, the audience remains firmly in step.

The family is struggling financially; opening narration, which turns out to be wannabe writer Dorian’s explanation of his latest book idea, details a post-austerity setup in which the economy has tanked and many Irish families have been forced to downsize their lives. The kids are all frustrated by their lot – “We used to go skiing!” laments Ellen – and, fuelled by Christmas spirit, decide to go through with their hairbrained scheme to rob shady local famer Charlie Bann (a delightfully deadpan Stephen Rea) who, they reason, must have money hidden somewhere in his isolated home.

As events unfold in a haphazard manner, Shovlin leans into the cultural specificity of his setting, gently riffing on everything from opportunistic Catholic priests (here played with smarmy gusto by Michael Colgan) to the Cosgrove’s familiar, worn-in domestic setting, with its clashing carpets and revered ‘good room’ brought to nostalgic life by production designer Heather Greenlees. And amid Rory Friers and Michael Keeney’s lively Irish music-inflected score, The Corrs’s 2000 pop anthem ’Breathless’ takes unironic pride of place.

There’s a real warmth and joy throughout, even when things take a darker turn and the Cosgroves realise they may have bitten off more than they can chew. That’s thanks largely to the impressive comedy timing demonstrated by the entire cast, along with Dara McKeagney’s intuitive editing which emphasises the haphazard absurdity that drives the story to its hilarious, surprisingly poignant conclusion.