Among my most anticipated movies of the 2026 Toronto International Film Festival was Theo Rhys’ feature directorial debut, Stuffed. Many might be intrigued by the cast, which pairs Killing Eve‘s Jodie Comer with Pillion‘s Harry Melling. Some might be curious about its logline: An isolated taxidermist seeks a willing volunteer to be her greatest piece yet, and finds a lonely man desperate to be remembered.
For me, Rhys hooked me back in 2021 with his short film, also titled “Stuffed,” which he expands here. Five years ago, I was a jury member for the Midnight shorts section of SXSW and was absolutely enchanted by Rhys’ 19-minute film, which not only blended romance and horror but was also a musical. I am proud to be part of the committee that awarded it a special honor at the festival, and I squealed with excitement to see he’d finally built it out into a feature. But how did this expanded version go over? Divisively.
At the press and marketing screening, folks walked out throughout Stuffed, which is not uncommon at a festival, where attendees have many different reasons to give a film a go. But the pronounced flock who fled after a close-up of a dead poodle being flayed suggested that Rhys’ musical was too much for some. I experienced this spectrum firsthand: On my left, a fellow critic howled with laughter throughout the darkly funny film, while on my right, a stranger frequently covered his eyes, letting out low groans.
As for me, I was elated to see Rhys’ vision come to life, even if the results were at times more scrappy than sensational.
Stuffed is a tale of strange love.
Blessed is the Harry Melling, who between Pillion, Please Baby Please, and Stuffed, has become an icon of offbeat (and sexy) love stories. In each of these stories, he plays a submissive man, eager to be loved by a domineering partner, on whatever terms they demand. Pillion explored this through BDSM sex in a leather-daddy biker subculture; Please Baby Please did it through genderplay. Stuffed is less tied to kink and sex play, and more to the stuff of Sweeney Todd, minus the murder.
With a nest of untamed dark curls and a penchant for goth fashion, Comer’s Araminta recalls Helena Bonham Carter’s Mrs. Lovett from Tim Burton’s Sweeney Todd. Likewise, her high, birdlike singing voice echoes the choices in Angela Lansbury’s filmed performance of the same role (“The worst pies in London!”) However, Araminta is no killer or co-conspirator. And she’s not played as broadly comedic.
Instead, Rhys gives Comer the space to make Araminta into a passionate, grubby misfit. The nearby townsfolk spread malicious rumors about her, and hate the “meat” debris she pitches into the trash bins, as its stench attracts rats. But inside her home, Araminta has made a creepy-cozy sanctuary, dappled with shadows but populated by her taxidermied critters. In her sitting room stand a full-sized doe, a stuffed pig, a cat, ducklings, and on and on. Through song, she soulfully explains how reconstructing these creatures means they are not gone, but “remain…still.”
By contrast, Bernie (Melling) lives a life where no one notices him, no matter how hard he might try. Rhys smartly establishes this factory worker in a warehouse so bland and absurd that a huge, rusted metal vat reads “Mayonnaise.” A conveyor belt is lined with bored workers assembling sandwiches without a word of conversation. And Bernie tries desperately to make a connection. His only friend is his mother, who is fading away in a retirement home, her memories ravaged by dementia.
An opening song features a spirited chorus of elderly residents facing their approaching deaths, singing about how they’re certain to be remembered, either for their work or their families. Then a chorus sings in a hilarious round about being remembered because, “I ran a marathon.”
It’s the collision of theatrical musical boldness with winking absurdity that makes Stuffed a marvel. Rhys — and co-writer Joss Holden-Rhea — expertly use the form to give a big voice to introverts and misfits who share their inner lives with no one (or no one living). So each song that Bernie and Araminta sing is an exploration of yearning, vulnerability, and ultimately intimacy. As they move from singing solos to singing together, their bond blossoms. And that’s their problem.
They get together so that Bernie can die and become Araminta’s taxidermied masterpiece. But as they fall in love, he wants to live with her, not die for her. He also wants to give her what she wants: his corpse. So what can love look like for them? In this exploration, Rhys refuses to judge his oddball lovers and creates a film that is grisly, funny, and uniquely romantic.
Stuffed struggles in spectacle.
Melling and Comer are terrific in Stuffed, bringing sincerity and texture to these roles of ghastly yet lovable losers. Early on, their songs feel held close to their chests, like a breath that could crack open their ribs. But as love blossoms, Bernie embraces a “bold” new self through Araminta’s encouragement. Like in Pillion, he gets a makeover that rejects blending in with the so-called normal folk. And ultimately, he’ll find his voice in a comedically beguiling sequence.
For her part, Comer blossoms in love as her posture shifts from a protective hunch to an open-chested stride. Their performances beautifully encapsulate the transformative power of love without ever rejecting Rhys’ determinedly bizarre world.
Where Stuffed underwhelms is in its production value. While the singing is big, distinctive, and beautiful, the film yearns for choreography and cinematography that can match it. The production design and costumes deftly create a compelling realm for this romance, reflecting the rot and wonder of death and life. But you can feel the low budget in the dearth of dancing or wide shots that might explore the potential physicality of these numbers. The close-ups, while effective, become a bit one-note visually. Still, for as weird and macabre as this musical gets, Stuffed feels like a miracle for existing at all.
It won’t be the next horror musical to break box office records. (Hello, Sinners.) But this gnarly wonder is certain to find a cult following that will love it, warts and all. And I can’t think of a more fitting fate for a film that sings that true love means exactly that.
Stuffed was reviewed out of the Toronto International Film Festival.
Source: https://mashable.com/entertainment/stuffed-review-jodie-comer-harry-melling
