Christy (2025) Parents Guide

The Story & What It Tries to Say

The story follows 17-year-old Christy (Danny Power), a kid who’s been bounced around the foster system so many times he’s basically learned not to unpack. When we first meet him, he’s lugging a plastic bin bag filled with his belongings just another stop in a long line of “temporary homes.” He ends up on the doorstep of Shane (Diarmuid Noyes), his half-brother, who barely knows him but agrees to take him in for the time being. Shane’s got his own young family to care for his partner Stacey (Emma Willis) and their baby girl and he’s not exactly thrilled at the idea of bringing a troubled teen into the mix. You can feel the tension from the start: Christy doesn’t trust this arrangement, and Shane doesn’t trust Christy not to screw it up.

But slowly, almost imperceptibly, the walls start to crack. Christy, who’s used to rejection, starts to find moments of connection through Shane, through Stacey, and especially through the local kids he stumbles into. These kids aren’t glossy, movie-perfect teens; they’re scrappy, foul-mouthed, and funny in the way only kids on the edge of adulthood can be. They tease him, they push him, but they also invite him in. That sense of belonging something Christy has never really had creeps into the film like light under a door.

Of course, it’s not smooth sailing. Christy gets pulled in different directions: the comfort of his brother’s home versus the lure of his cousins, whose lives on the rougher side of Cork offer him a different kind of escape. That push and pull between stability and chaos, acceptance and self-sabotage is the heartbeat of the story. It builds toward a finale that doesn’t rely on melodrama or some grand twist. Instead, it gives us something more fragile, more human: a moment of release, a gesture of belonging, a reminder that sometimes salvation is simply being allowed to stay.

And that’s the beauty of Christy. On trailer, it’s about a foster kid trying to find his footing. But under the surface, it’s really about the universal hunger to be seen, to be loved without conditions. Brendan Canty doesn’t treat Christy as a “case study” or a symbol he treats him as a boy, rough edges and all. And by the end, you realize the film isn’t about whether Christy will “make it” in the big, cinematic sense. It’s about whether he can finally believe he deserves a place at the table.

Performances & Characters

Danny Power doesn’t play Christy he practically bleeds him. He’s all twitchy energy, defiance, and sudden glimpses of the kid underneath. Noyes as Shane pulls off the rare feat of being both the exasperated older brother and the guy you grudgingly admit is doing his best. Emma Willis’s Stacey is the quiet glue maternal without turning into a saintly archetype.

The local kids? They’re the kind of ensemble that reminds you why Irish youth comedies can run rings around Hollywood high schools. Jamie Forde’s “Robot” is pure chaos and comic lifeline, capped by a closing group song so raucously joyous it feels like Cork itself is high-fiving you.

Direction, Visuals & Pacing

Brendan Canty directs like he’s allergic to clichés. Colm Hogan’s cinematography starts in grey misery Christy’s soul on film and slowly warms as the character finds connection. No glossy sheen, just grit turning to glow. The pacing is unhurried, which is critic-speak for “some viewers will fidget, but they’ll be wrong.” Editing leaves room for silence and awkward pauses because real life doesn’t always cut to the next big speech.

Musically, Canty resists the easy manipulation card. Daithí’s score seeps in like damp air rather than swelling violins, and when the final ensemble song hits, it feels earned, not engineered.

Christy (2025) Parents Guide

Violence & Gore: This film doesn’t serve up gratuitous gore, but it’s got enough simmering tension to make your palms sweat. Think more emotional bruises than physical ones. There’s a fair share of shouting matches, slammed doors, and the occasional punch thrown in frustration. It’s like a family reunion where no one’s happy to see each other. But don’t worry, no one’s getting decapitated or disemboweled. Just a lot of emotional baggage being tossed around.

Language: Expect a liberal sprinkling of expletives that would make your grandmother clutch her pearls. Words like “fk,” “btard,” and “sh*t” are tossed around like confetti at a New Year’s Eve party. It’s not Shakespeare, but it’s real. If you’re sensitive to salty language, maybe keep the kids in another room or better yet, let them watch Teletubbies.

Sexual Content: There’s no nudity, no lingering kisses, and certainly no bedroom antics. The closest you’ll get is some awkward teenage glances and a few blush-worthy moments. It’s more about emotional intimacy than physical. So, if you’re hoping for a romance that’ll make you swoon, you might want to queue up Fifty Shades instead.

Substance Use/Drugs: There’s no rampant drug use or characters stumbling around in a drunken stupor. Just a few casual drinks, probably to wash down the existential dread. If you’re hoping for a gritty portrayal of substance abuse, this isn’t it. But if you’re looking for a film that acknowledges the occasional pint without glorifying it, you’re in the right place.

Director: Brendan Canty
Genre: Drama, Coming of Age
Run Time: 94′
U.K. Premiere: Edinburgh Film Festival (August 15-18, 2025)
U.K. & Ireland Release: August 29, 2025 (Ireland) / September 5, 2025 (U.K.), in cinemas
U.S. Release: TBA