Netflix’s How to Get to Heaven from Belfast is the kind of series that sneaks up on you. What begins as a reunion story about four estranged childhood friends quickly spirals into a darkly funny, emotionally layered mystery about guilt, loyalty and the long shadow of the past. Created by Lisa McGee, best known for Derry Girls, this new drama proves she can stretch far beyond coming of age comedy while still retaining her razor sharp ear for dialogue and distinctly Northern Irish voice.
The story centers on Saoirse, Robyn and Dara, three women whose lives have drifted in very different directions. Saoirse is a successful but chaotic television writer, Robyn is juggling motherhood and social expectations, and Dara is steady and quietly self sacrificing. They are pulled back together by an email announcing the death of their once inseparable fourth friend, Greta. When they travel to attend her wake in a rural town outside Belfast, something feels off almost immediately. The details don’t line up. The atmosphere is strange. Grief is mixed with suspicion. And before long, the question shifts from how Greta died to whether she died at all.
What unfolds across the season is a twisting investigation driven less by professional detective work and more by panicked improvisation. The trio stumble through clues, confront old acquaintances and revisit memories they have spent years trying to suppress. Flashbacks gradually reveal a shared past involving Greta and her sister Jodie, who were raised in a deeply troubling religious commune called Heaven’s Veil. That traumatic upbringing led to a catastrophic act in their youth and later to a violent confrontation with a journalist digging into their history. The friends’ decision to help bury the truth fractured their bond and set in motion the events that define the present day timeline.
One of the most compelling reveals is that Greta’s death was staged, her disappearance orchestrated with the help of family and a shadowy relocation scheme that offers her a new identity abroad. Yet even this apparent escape proves complicated. The emotional pull of unfinished relationships and unresolved guilt makes reinvention harder than expected. By the time the finale lands, the central mystery is largely unpacked but not neatly tied up. The final image, involving a lingering unanswered clue, leaves just enough uncertainty to make the possibility of another season feel exciting rather than contrived.
What really elevates the series is its balance of tone. The subject matter is undeniably dark, touching on abuse, moral compromise and the weight of shared secrets, yet it is threaded through with biting humor and deeply human moments. The chemistry among the lead cast keeps everything grounded. Their performances make you believe in decades of friendship, resentment and reluctant devotion. You feel the history in every sideways glance and unfinished sentence. It is not purely a crime thriller, nor simply a comedy. Instead, it feels like a story about women who once thought they knew each other completely and now have to confront how much they misunderstood.
At its core, How to Get to Heaven from Belfast is about the stories we tell to survive and the friends who know the versions of us we try to forget. It is funny without being flippant, dramatic without losing its wit, and twisty without sacrificing emotional truth. For viewers willing to embrace a mystery that is as much about memory and regret as it is about crime, this is one of Netflix’s most compelling new dramas of the year. I would love to see where these women go next.
