If you’ve ever sat at home thinking, what would it look like if Sweeney Todd took up taxidermy as a hobby? Look no further than Theo Rhys’ first feature film, Stuffed. A dark and twisted tale of outcasts who find their way to one another in the most bizarre circumstances, it creates a genre-bending, wild and wacky time at the cinema. The result is one of the most distinctive experiences you’re likely to have all year, featuring Jodie Comer and Harry Melling like you’ve never seen them before.
The outlandish premise alone is enough to have you hooked. Bernie (Harry Melling) is a lonely sandwich worker with nothing remotely exciting going on in his life, with the only remnants of any social life coming from visits to his mother, who sadly doesn’t even recognise him due to her dementia. Determined not to die without leaving some sort of legacy behind, Bernie seeks out the owner of an ad in the paper that promises to turn him into something “extraordinary”.
The face behind the ad is Araminta (Jodie Comer), a taxidermy enthusiast who boasts an extensive collection of stuffed roadkill that’s enough to cause instant nightmares. Not content with just animals, Araminta dreams of stuffing a human and believes Bernie to be the ideal candidate. The reality, though, couldn’t be further from the truth, with the pair unknowingly becoming the cure to their respective loneliness. But is that something that has come a little too late in their tragic lives?
The screenplay, co-written by Rhys alongside fellow writer Joss Holden-Rea, is one of the year’s most unusual. It’s abundantly clear from the outset where some of their inspiration comes from. The gothic nature bears a remarkable resemblance to Sweeney Todd, and if Tim Burton’s name were attached, you wouldn’t be shocked. Yet there’s still enough here to give Stuffed an identity entirely of its own.
That’s helped enormously by the music, also penned by Holden-Rea. While it doesn’t provide nearly as many memorable tracks as you might hope for, it is still wonderfully weird enough to transport audiences into this macabre world. Much of that comes down to the plethora of clever lyrics on display, with the biggest complaint being that they are sometimes drowned out by the overbearing orchestra. But even in those moments, thanks to our two leads and the full range of emotions they possess, you can feel what the songs are trying to achieve.
While the songs may be accused of sounding similar, one thing that certainly can’t be accused of lacking variety is the production design on display throughout. Whether it’s the deliberately drab sandwich-making factory where Bernie spends his morbid days, Araminta’s quirky, taxidermy-ridden apartment, or everything in between, it’s a true feast for the eyes. Every setting feels completely immersive from the get-go, and once this strange world has a hold of you, you don’t want it to let go.
Harry Melling proves to be an inspired casting choice for Bernie. Melling has that naturally awkward quirkiness you’d expect from a loner, while also bringing a genuine sweetness that makes audiences want nothing but the best for him. It’s a performance that makes you feel all the pain and anguish he is going through in his desperation to leave some mark on the world when he’s gone. That becomes all the more impressive when you take into account the songs he performs, showcasing a surprisingly strong vocal range that even garnered applause mid-movie.
As has become expected at this point, Jodie Comer fully commits to her more chaotic role. It feels like Comer could take on any project in any genre and still provide a spectacular turn. Throughout, she delivers all the eccentricity needed for a character as complex as Araminta, while gradually revealing a softer, more tender side as the walls begin to crumble. It unfolds in an incredibly organic way that’s bound to pull on the heartstrings of audiences.
And when the pair share the screen, that’s when Stuffed excels the most. Their chemistry progresses in a way that doesn’t remotely feel forced or inserted merely as a plot device. Instead, it feels like the coming together of two of the world’s outcasts who have been longing for a connection with someone who truly understands them. Watching that relationship unfold is easily one of the film’s most enjoyable aspects, and you find yourself simply wanting them to have that happily ever after despite all their flaws.
That said, the very predictable ending is likely to prove divisive. So much of the movie’s near two-hour runtime feels different from anything else you’ve seen. Even if the inspirations are obvious, the eccentric ways the story progresses feel fresh and intriguing. It’s therefore rather disappointing that Rhys decides to go down a more conventional route towards the end. For a film that spends so much of its runtime embracing the unexpected, its final destination feels strangely safe, especially when it seems Rhys had the opportunity to deliver something every bit as daring as what came before.
Despite that disappointing final stretch, there’s just something strangely endearing about Stuffed that keeps you captivated throughout. It’s almost impossible to perfectly put your finger on, but it has that secret formula that makes movies one of the most special art forms on the planet. Theo Rhys and his creative team have found that in abundance here, creating a macabre musical that may wear its influences proudly on its sleeve, but still manages to march to the beat of its own wonderfully weird drum.
