Old School. Biblically Independent.
By Kayleigh Donaldson | Film | September 13, 2026
Nobody wants to be forgotten. We all hope that we can make even the faintest impression on this planet during our all-too-brief lifetimes. But a hunger for fame/infamy has driven many a person to mayhem or madness. For poor Bernie (Harry Melling), he’s willing to die young and leave behind a well-preserved corpse, courtesy of amateur taxidermist Araminta (Jodie Comer.)
The setup for Stuffed, the directorial feature debut of Theo Rhys (based on his short film of the same name), inspires lofty expectations. It’s a horror romance about love and skinning. Oh, and it’s also a musical. Just give it the “cult classic” label already, right? Certainly, Stuffed is eager to deliver on its promise, with decades humour and a bittersweet slant. It’s just a shame that the music doesn’t work.
The film is set in a rundown British industrial town that could be placed in any decade from the ’40s to the ’90s. Imagine The League of Gentlemen’s Hammer-esque hellscape with a few more steps. Bernie’s job at a sandwich factory feels like a Wallace & Gromit bit. He dresses like a bingo caller, resplendent in peach velvet and silver collars, while Araminta doesn’t let being a reclusive shut-in stop her from some harness-forward Hot Topic styling. You certainly feel the griminess of this world, and not just in Araminta’s musty old house full of stuffed animals.
Rhys acutely captures the oppressiveness of small town claustrophobia, albeit with a gothic flourish, and his two leads carry that weight. The film has a ton of extras but it’s largely a two-hander. Jodie Comer makes for an appealing weirdo, stroking skinned animal corpses with gentleness and snarling at the locals who think she’s a cannibal. Truly, we should just let Harry Melling be in every film. His expressive face conveys all the isolation and bitterness of a man who would willingly sign up to be an exhibit for one woman’s living room. Bernie shares a lot of DNA with Colin from Pillion, the guileless loner who stumbles head-first into kink and submission (boy, if I had a nickel for every time I saw a movie where Harry Melling played a meek beta who finds himself through submitting to someone’s odd whims, I’d have three nickels!) They are both self-described losers who only seem at home among the, un, unconventional, and even then, the awkwardness prevails.
The film is a sick joke, but never at its reluctant lovers. While the taxidermy is the hook, the pickled heart of Stuffed is its stark approach to the transactional nature of relationships, romantic and platonic. Bernie’s life is a rather sad affair before he responds to Araminta’s vague ad (the hilariously retro website and its various pervy responses are one of the best gags in the film.) Nobody at work knows his name despite ten years on the job. His mother is battling dementia and he has no social life to spwak of. Yet all of this gloomy mediocrity is what makes him the ideal candidate for Araminta’s attention. What he has to offer her is nothingness, but the closer they get to stuffing day, the more they start to see one another as, well, human. Is it real love or just two losers clinging to one another? Does it really matter?
The music of Sondheim feels like an obvious inspiration to Stuffed’s songs, particularly Sweeney Todd, the king of the grotesque and flesh-forward musical. But this is lyrically a tad too simplistic given its ambitions, offering a lot of direct emotions. Given how expressive both Comer and Melling are, it’s a shame that the music feels the need to sew up all those nuances in favour of telling us all what they’re feeling. It sometimes provides a wry contrast to the visuals, such as when a group of nursing home residents sing of their familial loyalty while they’re being left to rot in a dumping ground for the elderly. Largely, though, the music is just a samey extended track of fraught violins and easy confessions. I’m not usually the critic who thinks a musical should be less musical, but maybe Stuffed needed to trust its actors with the silence. Or at least give the lyrics a rewrite.
You can’t fault Stuffed for lack of scope. Even on its tiny budget, Rhys creates a textured world of grimy fatalism. Its commercial prospects are nil but who cares about that when you’re dealing with a taxidermy horror-romance musical? While I cannot help but wish for better music - my kingdom for a David Yazbek or Adam Guettel or Jeanine Tesori! - the moments in-between are a gruesome delight anchored by two of this generation’s finest performers.
Stuffed had its world premiere at the 2026 Toronto International Film Festival. It currently does not have a release date.
