REVIEW: Relay


Rating: 5 out of 5.

A warm and inventive one person show that blends comedy, music and animation to explore queer family.


Relay follows Leila Navabi’s debut show Composition, which sold out at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival before transferring to Soho Theatre. Here, Navabi writes and performs a one person show that blends stand up, music and animation to explore what it means to build a queer family on your own terms. It is a simple premise on paper, but one that opens into something much more layered.

The show drives forward each event with humour, it’s punchy and personal and at times improvised. This only makes the more reflective moments stand out, as Leila is the very show itself and when the themes get more pensive so does she. There is a clear sense of control in how those shifts are handled. It never feels like it is trying too hard to land a point, which makes the emotional beats more effective when they arrive.

The performance style leans into something conversational. It feels relaxed, almost like being told a story by someone you who know at your local bar. That ease is matched by strong writing. Even moments that appear spontaneous are clearly well structured, giving the piece a steady rhythm throughout.

Structurally, the show avoids a straightforward retelling. Instead, it weaves together stand up, electro musical numbers and hand drawn animation. The use of cut out figures stands out and really gives personality and presence to all the people involved, even if in reality it’s just Leila breathing life into cardboard. They could easily feel like a novelty, yet they bring surprising depth. The people within the story feel distinct and recognisable, despite only appearing as illustrations. It is a simple idea executed with real care.

There’s variety to the music. Each number feels purposeful, you have the punchy intro, the funny catchy brunch number, and a sombre song, because sometimes despite your best efforts, life puts your wants on hold. Plus, I love punk singers. 

What resonates most is the balance between humour and sincerity. It’s a personal story, told intimately by the one in the middle of it, that first hand telling of is rich and gives you so much to engage with. It all plays on the strengths of a one woman show.

Relay is an engaging and thoughtful piece of theatre that manages to feel both personal and expansive. It offers a fresh perspective on family, told with warmth and clarity, and delivered in a way that feels genuinely inviting.

This show was a one-off that ran at The Lowry, Manchester.

REVIEW: The Boy at the Back of the Class


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

The Boy at the Back of the Class and the Reviewer in Tears.


A new boy sits at the back of a Year 5 class, not knowing anyone or even the language, and his journey is far from over. The Boy at the Back of the Class tells the story of Ahmet, a Syrian boy who begins his education at a British primary school after making the dangerous journey to seek asylum. The narrative is told through the eyes of the children who befriend him, helping Ahmet to find more than just his voice. A heartwarming story of friendship and resilience, The Boy at the Back of the Class is sure to move even bullies to tears.


Nick Ahad has adapted the story to stage beautifully. The children talk like children, and the production design is filled with imagination and playfulness. Serious themes are portrayed sensitively but impactfully, and though young characters may not always say the right thing, they are trusted with heavy topics. Onjali Q. Raúf’s writing and Ahad’s subsequent adaptation encourage the audience to stay curious and open their hearts and minds.


Monique Touko has directed the piece beautifully, putting careful thought into
characterisation and blocking. The piece exudes energy, and you can tell the performers are having an incredible time, which is a testament to the environment created in the rehearsal room. Sometimes nods to the audience feel a bit forced, but do provide important emphasis to key lines. The movement and fights are coordinated brilliantly by Kloé Dean and Maisie Carter, with clear regard for safety and an eye for using the whole space whilst having a child’s mentality at heart.


All actors have an impeccable grasp of characterisation. Sasha Desouza-Willock and Serkan Avlik give particularly moving performances as Alexa and Ahmet, delicately and intelligently playing the characters with close attention paid to portraying trauma sensitively. Another stand-out is Evie Weldon, who, when multiroling entirely embodies each character, from snobbish schoolgirl to sinister old teacher. Natasha Lewis also shines as Mrs Khan/Mum, with a formidable presence and subtle improvisation, which keeps the momentum whenever younger audience members become restless.


The lighting (Ryan Day) and sound (Giles Thomas) work in synergy with the sets and
costumes (Lily Arnold) to propel the story, immersing us in situations from child’s play to imminent danger. The football segment is especially effective, with mimed balls bouncing and lighting up the set, which becomes the performers’ playground. Every inch of space is used, whether by actors climbing the PE equipment walls or by LEDs illuminating the borders. Ahmet occasionally steps outside of the established performance area to speak to us directly, as though we’re in his head, which is beautifully done.


My one criticism is that there is a very cheesy moment of resolution in the second act
involving the Queen, which I feel cheapens the achievements of the children themselves, as their big plan to help Ahmet causes enough change as it is. Whilst this has a negligible effect on the final emotional payoff of the show, it stunts the plot’s progression slightly after a tightly executed unfurling of events.

Overall, the piece is sensitive, educational and big-hearted. Multiple elements work together beautifully to deliver a lasting message. A tale of hope and the enduring power of raising your voice in an ever scarier political climate, The Boy at the Back of the Class is a must-see for children and adults alike.

The Boy at the Back of the Class runs until 18 April at the Lowry, Salford, before continuing a tour. Tickets here.

REVIEW: Fixing


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Tender, funny, and intelligent – a very good night out


‘Fixing’ is part memory play, part drag show car mechanics course, written by Peader Kirk and Matt Miller, who also performs the piece, alone. 

For what is apparently their first foray into drag, those elements of the show are very effective, providing a humorous foil to the rest of the show but also becoming part of the narrative in subtle ways which add layers of complexity.

Its success is completely dependent on the audience interaction running all the way through, with the vast majority of the dialogue directly addressing the audience in both the drag scenes and the storytelling-style flashbacks to Matt’s childhood and his parents’ divorce.

Fortunately, Matt Miller is great at crowd-work, especially in his role as Matt’s drag alter ego Natalie, adapting and improvising his performance in response to their reactions. It was lovely to see all the people brought on and how enthusiastic they were to take part in the show. One member, after being told they had a lovely smile, returned the compliment and later on had a much flirtier exchange involving coolant leaks. Natalie guides the crowd through a sequence of physical movements representing a car starting, and a selection of ‘volunteers’ are brought up for more hands-on, more innuendo-soaked tutorials on checking tyres and using dipsticks, for example. 

In the more traditionally theatrical sequences, Miller still has moments of physical comedy, but the performance is more muted as he narrates Matt’s childhood experiences, doing lots of impressions of his father. Miller’s performance is hypnotic both as Matt and as Natalie, and the heart of the piece is in the exploration of his relationship with his dad.

The sound design and music is great throughout, especially the repetition of ‘Brand New Cadillac’ each time Matt changes into Natalie while getting the audience to clap along. As ‘Fixing’ goes on, the costume changes begin to interrupt Matt’s emotional confessions, highlighting the emotional suppression of Matt and his dad. By bringing the audience into these rug-pulls, the piece does a great job at making them feel guilty for their interactions with the performance, which sharpens the social critique.

Both the camp drag performances and the stoicism of Matt’s father effectively interrogate ways of masking emotions and covering up trauma through masculinity, with varying levels of seriousness. Ultimately, both attempts break down, whether that’s through Natalie’s repeated references to accidents and trauma (and, of course, healing) or through the story of how Matt’s dad is increasingly unable to work and is eventually laid off, and how that impacts Matt and his sister both at the time and years later.

The script is poetic, nuanced, and surprisingly subtle for a show full of (car-themed) innuendo about handjobs and ejaculation, with plenty of less-in-your-face puns like the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it reference to ‘uncoupling’. 

‘Fixing’ is full of playful asides to the audience, creating an intimate environment which is only reinforced by the small studio space it’s performed in- it wouldn’t work as well on a larger stage, or with more performers, or with an interval. Matt Miller using his own name for the central character is yet another nice touch which adds to the intimacy of the play.

Another big strength of the script is the mix of sudden changes and gradual shifts in emotion, which ‘Fixing’ balances very successfully to remain cohesive. Part of this is the building feeling of unease and tension leading up to the emotional intensity of the climax- no pun intended- where the lighting changes colour for the first time in the piece, all switching from soft blues and oranges to a dark red at the same time. The lighting changes very sparingly elsewhere, brightening as Matt changes into Natalie and dimming when Natalie becomes Matt. 

The set design is similarly sparse, with props only being placed around the sides and back of the room. This, along with Miller’s one-man performance, highlights the physical and emotional absences at the heart of the story. Ironically then, there’s something missing from ‘Fixing’ which would elevate it from a very good night to greatness, although it’s hard to put your finger on what exactly that is. Maybe it’s just not going far enough in either its gags or its explorations of trauma, leaving just a bit too much unsaid. And yet, the balance of moods and the various ambiguities- especially in its refusal to offer a clean, neat resolution- are also its strengths! More could have been done with the set, perhaps, or there could have been more development of the physical comedy routine- the repetition and subversion of expectations is a highlight throughout ‘Fixing’, and could have been utilised even more. These explorations of how actions change meaning in different contexts, dovetail nicely with the use of drag. For instance, hearing the voice of Matt’s dad from offstage is an especially nice touch because of how it’s juxtaposed against Matt’s impressions of his father. 

Overall, ‘Fixing’ is funny, tender, and intelligent- here’s hoping it stays around!

The UK tour of ‘Fixing’ concludes on 17th April in Leicester- tickets here.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Henry Biggs


New musical, Trompe I’oeil, will play an exclusive season at Contact, Manchester, from 18 April – 2 May 2026 in a refreshed and deliciously uptempo new version following previous seasons in London and off-Broadway, featuring stand-out sensation from RuPaul’s Drag Race UK, Veronica Green in the role of Demi. We talk to the show’s creator, Henry Biggs, about what audiences can expect from this new musical.


Trompe L’Oeil brings together politics, drag, circus and musical theatre in a very distinctive way. Where did the original idea for the show begin?

The original idea in 2017 for Trompe l’Oeil: the Musical was based on the absolute circus of Trump and the reality that chaos was the new currency.  The match with trompe l’oeil – an art form of illusion – quickly followed and in many ways took over the show.  Demi, our drag queen lead, slots right into the trompe l’oeil notion.  

What drew you to reimagining The Wizard of Oz through the lens of the Obama–Trump transition?

Over the last 5 years of the musical – through New York and London, I tried – largely unsuccessfully frankly – a variety of songs and approaches to convey the idea of Demi transitioning into a new post-Obama world where everything had become surreal.  

No matter my method, I could feel that the audience only vaguely and variously embracing the premise.   In St Louis, when we premiered the idea of Demi being “tornadoed” a la Dorothy into this new world, the response and engagement of the audience was immediate and transformative – things caught fire and all the shows sold out – we have been zooming ever since! 

What conversations are you hoping the show opens up around identity and power?

It is fundamental to Trompe l’Oeil: The Musical. The core premise is that generally when people can’t process a reality they throw up their hands and say things are surreal – the result in the show is that they then turn into melted dogs (the meltedness a nod to the Melted Clocks of Dali  and the zoomorphication of Rip to Ionesco’s absurdist Rhinoceros).  

So, in the early stages of Trump (and even now actually), people found his politics too divergent from the world they had known – and so threw up their hands and did nothing.  That response, however, constituted an abdication of the defense of one’s identity. In effect, the other side won. 

In Trompe l’Oeil: The Musical, the profound split from the Wizard of Oz comes at the end when Demi realizes that, unlike Dorothy, her Oz IS her reality and she must defend her identity. In the process Rip, her love interest, learns something quite powerful about his own identity. 

The cast includes Veronica Green alongside a large ensemble. What were you looking for in bringing this company together?

Veronica Green is an extraordinary match for the show, not only because of her tremendous success as a drag queen but also because of her tremendous singing voice. I should also add that her work ethic and team spirit have made her an absolute dream to work with. The show in its way I think, also gives her the opportunity to show the full measure of what she is capable of.  

However, the entire ensemble is just gobsmackingly good – we have never had a cast that was top to bottom so perfectly suited for the roles they have been tasked with (and there are some very odd roles – e.g., opera singers, acrobats, country acts) .  Rehearsals have just been a constant revelation. 

But in the end, it is their comedic humour and timing that we really sought out – and I do believe, as a group, this is also the funniest cast we have ever had.

What excites you most about bringing the production to Contact Theatre, Manchester?

I was told by my producer in London, Jamie Chapman Dixon, that Trompe l’Oel: the Musical belonged in Manchester, insisting it was a town that would embrace its LGBTQ message like no other. He also felt strongly about the Contact Theatre as a place that would be particularly supportive of the musical’s message.  

Being from St Louis and New York, I knew absolutely nothing about Manchester the city, but I took Jamie at his word. Annnd – I have absolutely, ABSOLUTELY! fallen in love with Manchester! What is not to love about a place where saying hello to strangers on the street is not considered madness. The helpfulness of people touches me daily. That is the world I grew up in. I truly hope that Manchester becomes Trompe l’Oeil: the Musical’s home for many years to come, but regardless Manchester will always stay in my heart.  

REVIEW: Private Lives


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

The Royal Exchange’s production is well-paced and joyful


What goes on behind closed doors? How do you treat your spouse when nobody else is around? Does love unavoidably cause insanity? Noël Coward’s 1930 comedy Private Lives reveals all of these answers and much more. Taking place over the honeymoon of two couples, Amanda and Victor Prynne and Elyot and Sibyl Chase, the play takes an unexpected turn when previous divorcees Amanda and Elyot realise they are stuck on the same boat.

The first half of this production is so gripping and truly joyful to watch. Immediately the audience witnesses the rapid decaying of the two recently married couples, which drew many laughs and I noticed lots of people sitting forward in their seats. The pace of it is excellent, and I feel this is when the actors gave their best performances. Particularly Shazia Nicholls, who is a captivating standout as Sibyl. She injects youthfulness and charming hyperactivity into every line. Her incessant questioning of Elyot, though based in the context of the 30s, felt strikingly like it could be from 2026, and a lot of this was because of her erratic yet truthful delivery. It also indicates how Coward’s writing, comedically, has stood the test of time.

The worldbuilding was fantastic, Dick Bird’s set is wonderful. The revolve stage is an outrageously art deco boat, divided into two sections with cream sofas. Minimalist enough that the four cocktails that appear in the first half almost feel like a set piece themselves rather than a prop, which is apt when drinking is such a big part of the narrative and the romantic relationships.

For the second half, the set becomes Amanda’s messy, stale Parisian apartment. Warmly lit and cluttered, it feels claustrophobic and queasy. This was supported by the subtle speeding up and slowing down of the revolve as tension spiked and flattened, I really enjoyed this touch. It got to a point where the revolve spinning became dizzyingly quick – though imaginably intended to perpetuate the idea of Amanda and Elyot going round in circles in their relationship, it didn’t feel like a cliche.

With such an incredible, seamless first half, I was expecting the second to keep me much more engaged than it ultimately did. For me, there was something missing that didn’t match the quality I’ve come to expect from the Royal Exchange. There was an absence of chemistry and a subtle loss of connection between Amanda and Elyot in the second half that I felt confused by. However, overall, this is a good production. Funny and well-paced with accomplished design.

Private Lives runs until the 2nd May at The Royal Exchange

REVIEW: Maricel


Rating: 5 out of 5.

“Cultural immersion, done beautifully”


Maricel is a beautifully crafted film, shining a light on a reality faced by millions of Filipino families. With the space it allows to explore the quiet moments, it raises important questions and invites questions on the cost of success.

Zar Donato is excellent in the role of Maricel. She completely captures the complex, conflicting emotions of the situation unfolding in front of her. From the meticulous standard of support she provides to the elderly Greek couple in her care to the earned bursts of frustration, her performance reflects Filipino culture authentically.

The simple, routine moments shine across both cultures. Food plays a continuous role in the film. The showcasing of lesser-known Greek cuisine, rooted in what is readily available, highlights the simplicity of Greek cooking. The preparation of honey and ginger tea to soothe ailments, and the presence of carefully stored, plastic-wrapped snacks, will feel familiar to many within Filipino households. The running joke around long-grain rice was subtle and well done.

The tenderness and honesty with which the sexual realities of OFWs are portrayed are moving and deeply affecting. The film presents, in a strikingly beautiful yet unflinching way, how difference and vulnerability can lead to exploitation. It powerfully captures the spectrum of experiences – from those who endure and adapt, making the best of difficult circumstances, to the harsher, more unsettling realities that many have had to confront and overcome.

As the daughter of an OFW who lived in Greece, this film feels deeply personal. Seeing the crossover of Tagalog, Greek and English brought to life feels almost sacred, a detail handled with great care. The emphasis on particular phrases – where “bastos” comes to mind – feels charmingly natural. The emotional turmoil of balancing the loss of family and the acceptance of another family met with a quiet, stoic resilience echoes the determination of OFWs to create a better life for their families, often at great personal cost.

After the screening, director Elias Demetiou took part in a Q&A. He spoke openly about his family’s personal experience with Filipino workers, affectionately referring to the woman who inspired Marciel as a sister. His brother also composed the moving score, a first for the brothers after many years of Elias’s requests. 


Marciel is a human story, told with care and details that resonates well beyond the screen. Showcasing 52 feature films, including nine UK premieres and eight world premieres, catch the Manchester Film Festival until 29th March. Tickets are available here.

REVIEW: Exit 8


Rating: 4 out of 5.

‘A game adaptation done brilliantly’


Exit 8, directed by Genki Kawamura, was screened at the 2026 Manchester Film Festival, drawing a packed audience to the Odeon Great Northern on Tuesday 24th March. The film first premiered at the Cannes Film Festival in 2025 and marks Yokohomo-born director’s third feature following Monster (2023) and Weathering with You (2019).

Inspired by the indie adventure game of the same name, Exit 8 vividly brings to life the monotony and chaos that fans will instantly recognise. With the familiar blend of horror and psychological tension, audiences feel as though they have stepped back into the game. At its core, Exit 8 is a spot the difference game, where players look for anomalies in a Japanese subway setting. Many of the anomalies and characters are faithfull adapted from the game to screen, offering plenty for fans to enjoy.

The film offers a glimpse into everyday life of a salaryman – a worker just trying to get by, absorbed in his own routine and worries. An unexpected phone call brings life-altering news and just like that, our main character, Kazunari Ninomiya, is in a game he did not expect to be playing. Delivering a stellar performance, he leads you through a series of challenges meeting several unhinged characters along the way, each trapped in their own game of life’s struggles. 

At times, the film moves at a slow pace. This seems like a deliberate attempt to illustrate the repetition of everyday life. For fans of fantasy world, this lingering will likely be welcome to stay immersed for longer.

The film’s deliberately simple set repeated throughout scenes is a welcome thread in an otherwise chaotic story. The set acts as the foundation across all changing environments, keeping audiences engaged as they look for differences. The sound and sound design were impressive, keeping the audience on the edge of their seats during tense moments. 

Showcasing 52 feature films, including nine UK premieres and eight world premieres, catch the Manchester Film Festival until 29th March. Tickets are available here.

REVIEW: Lady


Rating: 4 out of 5.

A chaotic and brilliant mockumentary into why giving the upper class a camera isn’t always a good idea.


Lady, directed by Sam Abrahams, is a mockumentary that blends satire, surrealism and character-driven storytelling into something that feels both unusual and refreshingly confident. Framed as a documentary following an aristocratic woman determined to reclaim the spotlight, the film quickly moves beyond its premise, leaning into unpredictability and imaginative storytelling.


At the centre of the film is Sian Clifford as Lady Isabella, a narcissistic yet oddly endearing aristocrat who hires a filmmaker to document her life. Clifford’s performance is the clear highlight, bringing energy, humour and surprising emotional depth to the role. What could easily have become an exaggerated caricature instead feels layered and engaging, with moments of vulnerability cutting through the character’s more theatrical tendencies. Her presence gives the film a strong anchor, ensuring that even its most surreal turns remain watchable and grounded.


The narrative follows a struggling filmmaker drawn into Isabella’s world under slightly questionable circumstances, setting up a dynamic that allows the film to explore control, perception and the blurred line between performance and reality. As Isabella’s desire for attention intensifies, the film becomes increasingly playful in its structure, moving between mockumentary realism and something far more surreal. This shift gives the film a distinctive identity, setting it apart from more conventional comedies.


Visually, Lady makes strong use of its stately home setting, using wide, open spaces to reflect both grandeur and isolation. The scale of the environment contrasts effectively with the personal nature of the story, reinforcing the sense that Isabella is performing not just for the camera, but for an audience that may not be there. This attention to visual detail adds to the film’s overall tone, helping to create a world that feels slightly detached from reality.


What makes Lady particularly enjoyable is its willingness to fully commit to its ideas. The humour is dry and often unexpected, while the more surreal elements are used to reflect the character’s internal struggles rather than simply for shock value. There is a sense that the film understands its own eccentricity and leans into it confidently, resulting in something that feels both distinctive and memorable.


Beneath the satire, there is also a surprising emotional core. Themes of loneliness, identity, and the desire to be recognised are woven throughout the film, giving it a level of sincerity that balances its more absurd moments. This combination of humour and emotional depth allows Lady to resonate beyond its initial premise, offering more than just surface-level entertainment.


Overall, Lady is a confident and imaginative debut that succeeds through its originality and strong central performance. Anchored by Sian Clifford’s magnetic portrayal, it delivers a film that is as strange as it is engaging, blending comedy and character study into a uniquely entertaining experience.

The Manchester Film Festival runs until the 29th of March. Tickets herehttps://manchesterfilmfestival.app/home

REVIEW: Anthracite Fields


Rating: 4 out of 5.

An immersive, sweeping historical tribute with an enduring presence


Julia Wolfe’s Pulitzer Prize-winning oratorio came to Manchester this weekend and did not disappoint. Anthracite Fields is the tale of and a memorial to American miners, with inspiration drawn from oral histories and Wolfe’s own upbringing in Pennsylvania, rich in deposits of pure coal.

The night began with Gabriela Lena Frank’s Jalapeño Blues, conducted electrically by Ellie Slorach. The piece, rooted in Latin American culture, was rich, playful, and the singers shone with comedic and technically varied elements. While it is important that a piece such as Jalapeño Blues be performed, it felt an odd choice for a majority white-passing chorus. Is it enough for the composer to have mixed heritage? Or should the BBC’s singers be more representative of the piece? Regardless, the chorus brought great passion and energy.

The world premiere of SCALLOP by Laura Bowler followed, conducted by John Storgårds. This piece brought a significant but necessary shift, with foreboding strings and loud dynamics. It felt like a good precursor to Anthracite Fields, building a sense of danger. The soundtrack of water reminded us nicely of the evening’s subject’s environmental aspect, though its volume was distracting.

Julia Wolfe’s Anthracite Fields was also conducted by John Storgårds, who drew out an incredible sound from both the choir and orchestra, and conducted with quiet grace and reserve.

To portray this story through an orchestra felt like an excellent choice to me. The chorus served as our miners, a mass of bodies, their voices uniting to mix beautifully. The orchestra was our machine, with groups of instruments moving in unison. The violins’ physicality was particularly suited to this, as their bows jutted out almost mechanically.

The first movement, Foundation, built momentum tactfully. I felt dragged on the descent into the mines with sliding strings and brass. At times, it felt like the orchestra was running away from Storgårds, which would normally seem like a criticism, but it worked for the message; the syncopation and staggered melodies built a chaotic, crowded atmosphere.

Breaker Boys was the standout piece for me. This was the most upbeat, with a female soloist telling us “the poor little breaker boys’ fate” throughout, with the gritty intonation of a young boy. The use of a modern drum kit brought a rock feel and added a youthfulness. The use of a bike chain delighted me, linking a childlike sense of play with mechanical whirring. Though the movement emphasised the mines’ use of child labour, it served as a sensitive tribute to their lives and contrasted well with the piece’s darker themes.

Speech provided useful context, though the words felt a little shoehorned as lyrics. The soloist was excellent, with a beautiful tone and soaring high notes, and the choir standing alongside the soloist brought a sense of community.

Flowers was a beautiful movement emphasising the environmental impact of the coal mining industry. The lighting was an almost blinding bright pink, which contrasted well with the ever-dimming lights as we descended into the mines throughout the other movements. Hope permeated this piece, that flowers could bloom despite the horrors below.

Appliances finished the piece well, ending with the chorus whistling. It is a profoundly human activity, and likely a way miners would have entertained themselves, yet felt almost soulless with its sustained, unchanging notes. It reminded us of the miners’ humanity but left us with a sense of dread, a reminder of both their legacy and trauma.

A rousing work of art, Anthracite Fields is a tragic tale of hardship, entwined with hope and humanity, and was performed with poise and respect.

This piece was performed for one night only on Saturday 21 March at Bridgewater Hall, Manchester.

REVIEW: Psychopomp


Rating: 5 out of 5.

“A short film that will stay with you long after you leave the theatre.”


Manchester Film Festival opened to a full auditorium at Aviva Studios. The 11 day festival celebrates film across the city with an action packed programme of events. In its 12th year, the festival continues to grow. The opening event was a double bill of Kit Harrington’s Psychopomp and Jan Komasa’s The Good Boy.

Psychopomp is an excellent black comedy short, following a road trip led by Harry Melling as Harry, who has decided to end his life with the help of an assassin, Liam, played by Ciaran Owens. What initially feels like a play on stereotypes soon reveals a far deeper emotional core, uncovering the dark histories that underpin such situations. Alluding to a past that raises more questions than it answers, the film feels intimate and personal, capturing the complexity of what is unfolding. When a film is able to move you so profoundly with a single word, you know you’ve discovered something truly special.

Filming took place in the North of England across Leeds , Kirkstall, Ilkley Moor and Barton-upon-Humber, something Kit Harrington spoke of fondly in the Q&A that followed and cited that being a reason for the film being shown at the festival with him in attendance. The film was shot over three days, with half a day dedicated to the incredibly sombering Humber Bridge Scene. 

The Q&A also offered a moment for the Game of Thrones star to share his vulnerabilities around bringing his directorial debut to an audience. Hearing Kit Harington speak about his desire to challenge himself through Psychopomp, and his reflection on the support he received from the industry in making it a reality, was insightful and refreshingly honest.

The Q&A also highlighted the genuine comradery across the production team and actors, with Owens praising how good it was to have an actor in the directors shoes who understands the relationship building needed to deliver such an emotionally complex performance. Harrington commented that he would want to direct again and for anyone who watches Psychopomp, they will certainly be looking forward to the next project he works on.

Showcasing 52 feature films, including nine UK premieres and eight world premieres, catch the Manchester Film Festival until 29th March. Tickets are available here.

Psychopomp was followed by The Good Boy – the reviewer did not attend this part of the event.