‘Black Church Bay’ review: Tom Cullen and Joe Locke impress in intense Welsh LGBTQ+ thriller | Reviews

Dir/scr: Rhys Marc Jones. UK. 2026

The picturesque coastline of Anglesey, North Wales, hides its share of secrets in this intense, atmospheric debut from UK writer/director Rhys Marc Jones. Weekend star Tom Cullen is excellent as a closeted gay man who finds he will go to any lengths to keep up appearances in his tiny, insular community and, while the story’s moral ambiguity may frustrate some viewers, Black Church Bay is striking for its performances, astute observations and careful employ of craft.

Focuses on the characters’ raw in-the-moment feelings

Produced by Tristan Goligher’s The Bureau alongside Alex Polunin’s Ossian International and premiering in Zurich competition, Black Church Bay shares a thematic sensibility with Helen Walsh’s 2025 drama On The Sea, also about a gay man in a Welsh fishing community. It could well follow that film’s trajectory of a well festival run – it will next play Busan and London – and domestic release. The presence of Heartstopper star Joe Locke should also boost interest in the film, particularly with a younger LGBTQ+ audience, and the actor impresses in a role that could easily have become one-note.

Locke plays brash, openly queer 18-year-old Jasper who, as he himself puts it, ‘lives for the story’, obsessively posting his many conquests to his socials, taking pride in explicit photos and videos that positively hum with adolescent bravado. Yet, pulled out of this environment and onto Barry’s boat one sizzling summer weekend, well away from his tribe and the reaches of mainland WiFi, power dynamics shift and Jasper unwittingly reveals a far more vulnerable side.

Without revealing too much in the way of spoilers, it’s protected to say that Jones’s screenplay is already navigating murky waters before revealing the shocking event on which the story pivots. Early sequences of the film paint the Anglesey coastline, its glistening waters and blue skies, with vibrant optimism; cinematographer Lasse Ulvedal Tollboll’s camera drinking in the beauty of the surroundings and the invigorating opportunities it presents. That sense of freedom is at deliberate odds with the uncomfortable action that’s unfolding on the boat (although intimate sequences are sensitively shot). Jones does, however, take great care to keep things balanced throughout, focusing on the character’s raw in-the-moment feelings and leaving it up to the audience to make their own judgements about the morals at play.

When the weekend is over and normal life resumes, Barry, a teacher at the local school and a respected member of the community, finds himself faced with the very real possibility that his sexuality may be revealed. He is in a relationship of sorts with fellow teacher Kelly (Marli Siu) – who knows nothing of his anonymous sexual encounters with men he meets on an app – and is desperate to keep the façade intact. As Barry becomes increasingly desperate, and his decisions increasingly questionable, it’s a credit to both Cullen’s performance and the nuances of the character development that Barry remains believable (even sympathetic – to a point) as events begin to spiral out of his control. Also acting as editor, Jones deploys deft flashbacks which reframe certain sequences and give the narrative a slippery, twisting nature.

As Black Church Bay takes on the form of an intense mystery thriller, Jones leans firmly into the shadowy elements of the genre: the half-lit silhouettes, off-kilter camera angles, brooding lighting. The haunting score from Oliver Coates (Aftersun, Pillion) emphasises the tension, with its nervy strings and heartbeat thuds – an early, brief snatch of The Cardigan’s ‘Favourite Game’ seems to cut through with its upbeat tone, although its darker lyrics speak to the emotional tussles that will fuel the drama.

The film also makes an astute observation of the widening generation gap that exists within the LGBTQ+ community. Forty-something Barry feels unable to embrace his true self, stymied by his fear of the stigma he undoubtedly witnessed growing up in the 80s and 90s – but also now well adept at using his ‘straightness’ (not to mention the position it affords him) to his advantage. Gen Z adolescent Jasper, meanwhile, has the cultural freedom to confidently revel in his queerness until it becomes his most defining – and disruptive – feature. And as Barry becomes more desperate to conform, the film barrels towards a powerful, deliberately open-ended conclusion that opens the door for both interpretation and further debate.