Director: Michael Head
Writers: Colin Broderick, Mark McCausland
Stars: Tara Lynne O’Neill, Brenock O’Connor, Owen Colgan
Synopsis: Two music-loving but unlikely friends have two days to travel the length of Ireland to save their record store from closure. For one of them, not having a car is just one of the problems.
There’s a particular kind of film that doesn’t so much demand your attention as invite you to hop in the passenger seat. The Spin, directed by Michael Head, is exactly that sort of ride; a scruffy, warm-hearted Irish road trip comedy that knows the journey matters far more than the destination. Screening as part of Tull Stories’ Joy of Cinema strand and landing in UK and Irish cinemas from 27th February, it’s a modest film with modest ambitions, and, refreshingly, no shame about either.
Set in Omagh, Northern Ireland, the story follows Dermot (Brenock O’Connor) and Elvis (Owen Colgan), two devoted music obsessives clinging to their struggling record shop like it’s the last vinyl pressing in existence. The shop is behind on rent, their landlord, Sadie (Tara Lynne O’Neill), is circling with sharp impatience, and the future looks as bleak as the moors. Then comes the miracle: a tip-off about rare Robert Johnson records for sale in Cork at a suspiciously low price. Salvation, it seems, lies at the other end of Ireland. They’ve just got to get there in time.
The set-up is classic buddy-movie territory. Two underdogs, a ticking clock, and a rusty blue car that’s seen better decades. But what gives The Spin its personality is its distinctly Irish rhythm. The humor is conversational, observational, and often delightfully daft.
Brenock O’Connor and Owen Colgan’s chemistry is undeniable. Like two old friends who’ve known each other for years, their performances are some of the more genuine I’ve seen in years. Tara Lynne O’Neill’s Sadie is a particular highlight: less pantomime villain than pragmatic operator, she injects just enough bite to keep the stakes from dissolving entirely into whimsy. The script is filled with ridiculous conversations, such as how much a horse costs, and with the Irish accents, the jokes roll off the tongue effortlessly.
On their journey, the film opts for the scenic route. There’s a handy little map that helps time and distance pass for audiences who might not know how far they’re having to travel. There are plenty of shots of the beautiful, and damp looking, Irish countryside. Along the way, the duo encounter a smattering of locals and cameos, including Kimberley Wyatt and Maura Higgins in her feature debut, as well as blink-and-you’ll-miss-them appearances from Irish music stalwarts Barry Devlin and Steve Wickham. These moments add texture, but feel more like affectionate nods than fully integrated plot beats. But we do have to give a shoutout to some of the secondary characters who add so much fun and flare, especially the gentleman with the fox called Peter. His accent is very strong so subtitles might be needed.
The film’s strongest asset is its soundtrack. Based on a semi-autobiographical short story by Mark McCausland, who also provides the folk-inflected score, the music gives The Spin a soulful undercurrent.
Still, The Spin isn’t without its rough edges. The pacing can drift, particularly in the middle act. The stakes, while clear on paper, rarely feel truly perilous. Viewers expecting high-concept twists or sharp narrative turns may find the film’s gentleness bordering on inertia.
Yet there’s a quiet confidence in that restraint. Director Michael Head has described the film as a “feel-good buddy movie that doesn’t take itself too seriously,” and that self-awareness proves its saving grace. The Spin isn’t trying to reinvent the road movie or dissect economic precarity with forensic depth. It simply wants to offer audiences a warm, communal laugh and perhaps a renewed appreciation for the simple pleasures in life.There’s something disarmingly charming about a film content to be small, funny, and heartfelt. The Spin may not change cinema, but it understands the simple magic of sitting in a darkened room with strangers, sharing a story that hums along like a favourite track on an old record player. This is the type of cinema audiences are screaming for – a complete breath of fresh air. With a heartfelt ending, this lovely little film makes for fun, easy viewing.
