Like the family mystery tackled by the wannabe detectives at the heart of its story, Brian Durnin‘s deceptively impassioned debut Spilt Milk reveals its true nature gradually. A child’s eye view of deprived Dublin in 1984, what begins as a warm and nostalgia-tinged comedy of working class youth pivots to something darker. Managing a difficult tonal balance between quirky mystery and grittier social realism – think The Hardy Boys via Ken Loach – it’s an excellent debut.

Things are strained at the O’Brien family home. 11-year-old Kojak fanatic Bobby (Cillian Sullivan) wants to solve the bewildering animosity between his beloved older brother Oisin (Lewis Brophy) and the rest of the family, especially his gruff father John (Laurence O’Fuarain). When Oisin goes missing, Bobby enlists his classmate and fellow amateur sleuth Nell (Naoise Kelly) to track down his brother. What they uncover goes far beyond the boundaries of the family; a rampaging heroin epidemic that pierces the wider community.

In its depiction of a young boy discovering a sinister force that threatens his loved ones, Spilt Milk bears a cursory narrative resemblance to Kenneth Branagh’s Belfast. But there’s little of that film’s sepia sentimentality here. Cinematographer Cathal Watters (A Dark Song, Viva) paints a vivid, hazy Dublin in rich autumnal tones that evokes happy childhood, but it’s offset from the beginning by the grim economic conditions. As first wedding rings and then the TV go missing, one assumes it’s down to some necessary trudges to the pawn shop. Even before the real reason is established, the almost pastoral hues of the film begin to feel bitterly ironic. It’s hardly surprising that the youngsters find solace in their innocent ideas of justice.

The melding of the two distinct narrative modes may not work for everyone, but it mirrors the sudden and brutal exposure to adult issues from which an 11-year-old would normally be shielded. The young actors, Cillian Sullivan and Naoise Kelly in their first roles, do occasionally show their inexperience with the more dramatic scenes; a few instances where the two narrative modes do demonstrate visible joins. But they more than make up for that with the relaxed and believably bickering banter they share with each other, the kind of unselfconscious platonic friendship that could well develop into puppy love in a few years. Sullivan also shines in his family scenes, playing off a performance by O’Fuarain that’s impressively complex given limited screen time, and a compassionate showing of quiet strength from Danielle Galligan as Maura, Bobby’s mother, one of the film’s very strongest aspects.

A coming-of-age story that branches out eventually into an inspiring tale of community action, Spilt Milk‘s charming detective genre trappings allows the film to display its social conscience without polemicising or hectoring. The deft screenplay by Cara Loftus manages to satisfy with some neat Boy’s Own Adventure-style twists without sacrificing any of its emotional impact. There are some undoubted wobbles as its gets – unavoidably – under its own feet tonally, but it’s an ambitious narrative gamble that pays off handsomely overall. As entrant into the Audience Award at Glasgow Film Festival, it would be unsurprising if Spilt Milk became a strong contender for the prize.

Screening as part of Glasgow Film Festival 2025 Thur 27 & Fri 28 Feb 2025