In the shadow of Belfast’s skyline, where high-rise towers puncture a city more accustomed to lower horizons, stands New Lodge—a community frozen in time, wrestling with ghosts that refuse to be buried. Alessandra Celesia’s THE FLATS, winner of the 2025 IFTA George Morrison Award for feature documentary, emerges from this landscape as a work of rare emotional precision, crafted not from the grand narratives of history but from the cracks and residue they leave behind. Celesia, born in Italy and living between Paris and Belfast, discovered New Lodge through what she calls “a crazy coincidence”—the visual pull of the towers leading her to uncover that this was where her husband’s father’s family originated. During The Troubles, New Lodge was among the most dangerous places in Northern Ireland, with IRA roots and British Army occupation creating a siege that left violence rife in streets, stairwells, and the minds of children. “I said I would never make a film about the Troubles,” Celesia reflects. “It’s the past, it’s finished. But in New Lodge, it’s just so clear there is this whole generation traumatized by this thing that they never got over.”

The film’s emotional center is Joe McNally, a man whose interior landscape remains defined by the 1975 murder of his uncle Cook, one of four Catholic workers shot by loyalists at Casey’s bottling plant. Joe was seven when it happened, and the loss cracked something open that never healed. The most arresting sequences involve Joe and a friend carrying a coffin into his flat, staging a reenactment of Cook’s wake—the absurdity of maneuvering a coffin into a cramped lift becoming a powerful metaphor for grief borne floor by floor. These reenactments, inspired by Joshua Oppenheimer’s THE ACT OF KILLING, function as emotional excavations where Joe lies in the coffin contemplating his own death, later using it to simulate Bobby Sands’ wake. But THE FLATS extends beyond Joe to embrace the women of New Lodge—Jolene, Angie, and Jolene’s sister—who carry burdens of domestic violence, addiction, and caregiving. Angie recounts shooting her abusive husband in the hip with an IRA gun, delivered with a dry quip about how he refrained from retaliation because the hunger strike was on, revealing the dark entanglement of personal violence and political context.

Celesia’s approach remains notably non-didactic, embedding herself within the community to elicit emotional truths rather than political rhetoric. Her long-standing connection to Belfast provides closeness without exploitation, while her position as non-native maintains observational distance that allows her to ask what locals might leave unsaid. The estate, filmed just before demolition, becomes a character itself—its graffiti, cracked stairwells, and outdated lifts embodying history that refuses burial. Even smallest details resonate: Joe’s dog named Freedom, a Che Guevara mural beside hand-scrawled “Blood of an Irish Rebel,” Catholic neighbors lighting candles while Protestant bonfire stacks rise across the road. The camera finds beauty too—Jolene’s unexpectedly melodic voice singing in parkland offers fragile counterpoint to surrounding bleakness, while two women applying fake bruises to recreate abuse scenes remark “So relaxing,” the irony sharp and heartbreaking.

THE FLATS doesn’t strive for neutrality or promise redemption, acknowledging that peace came at cost in what it left unhealed. Joe’s therapy sessions with suicide prevention charity PIPS provide emotionally naked moments where he declares through tears, “I want to be happy”—a desire simple, human, and achingly out of reach that resonates louder than any political slogan. His anger, sometimes manifesting in impulsive hunger strikes comparing himself to Bobby Sands, targets the failed promises of the Good Friday Agreement and state neglect of working-class communities still mired in addiction and poverty. This collaboration between Celesia and producer Jean-Laurent Csinidis represents documentary cinema at its most essential, asking the right questions about grief, memory, inheritance, and legacy. THE FLATS doesn’t offer answers but honors the complexity, pain, and spirit of New Lodge’s people without reducing them to platitudes, standing as powerful, difficult work that refuses comfort while insisting on the necessity of witness.

What began as a fairy tale for Irish widower Jason Corbett quickly descended into an unfathomable nightmare. When the Limerick businessman and father of two found love again with his American au pair, Molly Martens, in 2008, it seemed like a fresh start. The couple, along with Jason’s children Jack and Sarah, relocated from Ireland to North Carolina to build their new life together. Yet on August 2, 2015, this seemingly idyllic existence shattered when Jason was brutally killed in his home by Molly and her father Thomas Martens, a former FBI agent. Now, Netflix’s gripping new documentary A DEADLY AMERICAN MARRIAGE delves deep into this Irish tragedy, offering viewers unprecedented access to the case that shocked both nations.

Set to premiere on May 9, this fly-on-the-wall documentary has been meticulously crafted over four years and promises to be what Netflix describes as “a chilling exploration of love and betrayal.” The 102-minute special features exclusive interviews with members of both the Corbett and Martens families, including rare perspectives from Molly, Thomas, and Jason’s children Jack and Sarah, who were just 10 and 8 years old respectively when their father was killed. At the heart of this documentary lies the haunting question: Was Jason’s death an act of self-defense as Molly and Thomas claimed, or something far more calculated?

In 2023, Molly pleaded no contest and Thomas pleaded guilty to voluntary manslaughter to avoid trial, after successfully overturning their initial murder convictions. Their subsequent release from prison in June 2024 only intensified public scrutiny and reignited debates over the true nature of that fatal night. Behind this powerful documentary are award-winning filmmakers Jessica Burgess, known for Rich & Shameless and American Monster, and Jenny Popplewell who directed What Jennifer Did and American Murder: The Family Next Door. Their unflinching examination was inspired by books written by Jason’s sister Tracey Corbett-Lynch, “My Brother Jason,” and his daughter Sarah, “A Time For Truth.” As viewers bear witness to the conflicting narratives surrounding Jason’s death, A DEADLY AMERICAN MARRIAGE challenges us to contemplate the elusive truths beneath a once seemingly picture-perfect life that ended in unimaginable violence. The documentary is expected to attract massive audiences both in Ireland and the United States, bringing renewed attention to a case that continues to resonate with profound questions about justice, truth, and the sometimes deceptive nature of domestic bliss.

Ross Whitaker’s BEAT THE LOTTO has scooped the BEST FILM Awards at this year’s Dublin International Film Festival. In a nation where parents once joked about robbing banks to afford their children’s desires, the 1980s introduction of Ireland’s National Lottery transformed wishful thinking into a new colloquialism: “Maybe if we win the Lotto.” For Cork mathematician Stefan Klincewicz, however, this wasn’t merely hopeful phrasing—it was a mathematical certainty waiting to be proven. When the Irish Lotto debuted in 1988, promising to turn a £1 ticket into a potential £1 million windfall, Klincewicz saw beyond the nearly two million combinations to envision something revolutionary: a system that could guarantee victory.

The audacious tale of Klincewicz’s lottery conquest takes center stage in Ross Whitaker’s utterly riveting new documentary BEAT THE LOTTO. The film masterfully chronicles how a dorky mathematician, initially laughed off during an appearance on Pat Kenny Live while promoting his book “Systems to Help You Win the Lotto,” would eventually orchestrate one of Ireland’s most ingenious financial maneuvers. Kenny’s present-day recollections of the encounter—claiming journalistic determination and engineering knowledge helped him expose a charismatic con man—stand in stark contrast to archival footage showing an irritable presenter sneering at Klincewicz, a man who would soon prove his skeptics spectacularly wrong.

BEAT THE LOTTO transcends its surface-level entertainment value by exploring the fascinating public relations battle that ensued. As Klincewicz’s syndicate implemented their plan, the National Lottery—which had emerged as one of Ireland’s few trusted institutions during economically depressed times—attempted to thwart their efforts, framing the mathematicians as cheats undermining a system that funded good causes. Meanwhile, the syndicate publicly positioned themselves as exposing flaws in the Lottery’s operations while being unfairly prevented from participating. This “Catch Me If You Can” scenario played out in newspapers across Ireland, dividing public opinion—some viewed the syndicate as clever rogues deserving admiration, while others considered them chancers exploiting a beloved institution.

While the documentary maintains a light, engaging tone through its upbeat music and stylish editing, thoughtful viewers might contemplate deeper implications about wealth, privilege, and systemic inequalities. As syndicate members recount stories of everyday punters cheering them on and letting them skip queues, as Paddy Power co-founder Stewart Kenny reflects that the thrill outweighed the financial gain, we’re left wondering: are these money men really playing the same game as ordinary lottery hopefuls? The film provides a vicarious thrill of outsmarting a system, but it stops short of questioning whether beating one system truly challenges the larger socioeconomic order.

BEAT THE LOTTO premiered at Dublin International Film Festival on February 26th, 2025, offering audiences an entertaining caper that simultaneously serves as an insightful examination of Irish cultural attitudes toward luck, chance, and institutional authority. Whether viewed as a mathematical triumph, a daring financial coup, or a reflection of Celtic Tiger-era attitudes, Whitaker’s documentary delivers a compelling narrative that remains utterly captivating from the first lottery ticket to the final ball drop.