Mar Sin Leat – A short drama about Skye, a transgender woman who goes back to her father’s farm to bury the body of her beloved pet — inadvertently reenacting what should have been her mother’s funeral.

A short drama about Skye, a transgender woman who goes back to her father’s farm to bury her beloved pet — inadvertently reenacting what should have been her mother’s funeral.

Synopsis

Wide exterior shot at blue hour. A solitary rural farmhouse sits low in the Scottish landscape, surrounded by open fields and distant hills under a heavy, clouded sky. A gravel drive curves toward the house. Two cars are parked apart: an older silver saloon in the foreground and a blue pickup truck to the right near a stone wall. At the centre of the frame, Skye walks alone toward the farmhouse with her back to camera, small against the vast, muted landscape. The light is dim and cool, suggesting the early hours of morning, with a quiet, somber atmosphere that emphasises isolation and return. — AI generated

SKYE, a young trans woman, receives a voicemail from her father, FERGUS. Her dog, ARCHIE, died. Skye drives overnight from the city to her childhood home in rural Scotland to be there for the burial.

Father and daughter work side by side digging the grave, the loss of Archie stirring up old grief. As Fergus turns to leave, Skye finds the courage to confront him, voicing her deepest fear: that he excluded her from her mother’s funeral because he never truly accepted her for who she is.

Faced with the pain his actions caused, Fergus finally opens up. He admits he was too broken by his own grief to comfort her, and didn’t want her to see him struggling.

For the first time, Fergus tells Skye: You’re my daughter. I love you. They begin to grieve together.

Mar Sin Leat covers grief on so many levels, the grief of a husband, the grief of a child, the loss of identity and transition of a child. How do we grieve as a child, an adult and how different that is for everyone?

Can the death of a beloved pet trigger feelings buried deep inside? This is more common than you would believe.

Why this short Matters

A tired, middle-aged man sits at a kitchen table in a dim, outdated farmhouse kitchen. He holds a mug of coffee loosely over his knees, his head bowed as he looks down at it. His posture is slumped and heavy, suggesting exhaustion, as if he has not slept. His face is lined and drawn, his expression distant and worn. On the table in front of him lies the body of a small Jack Russell terrier, stretched out on a clear plastic sheet. The dog’s fur is pale and still, its presence quiet and solemn at the centre of the room. The kitchen around them is cluttered and unkempt. Old cupboards are stained and worn, dishes are stacked untidily by the sink, and everyday objects are left where they were last used. A single warm light hangs above the table, casting a soft yellow glow, while cold blue light filters through the window behind, hinting at early morning. The contrast between the warm interior light and the dark, blue outside emphasises the sense of quiet grief and isolation filling the room. — AI generated

Skye and Fergus stand together in a wide, open field beneath a large, leaf-bare tree. Tall grass surrounds them, moving softly across the landscape. Between them, a small grave has been dug into the earth. Skye bends forward, gripping a shovel, while Fergus stands nearby, watching, his posture heavy and reserved. Their focus is on the ground between them, shared and silent. A rope swing hangs unused from one of the tree’s branches, slightly off to the side. Beyond them, low stone walls cut across the land, and the valley stretches out into distant hills and mountains under a pale, clouded sky. A small group of birds flies overhead, scattered against the blue-grey light. The figures appear small against the vastness of the landscape, emphasising the weight of the moment. The scene feels quiet and exposed, shaped by grief, distance, and the slow, physical act of burying their dog together. — AI generated

AI Generated

Mar Sin Leat is a film about vulnerability, dialogue and empathy — emerging amid deepening social polarisation.

It features a trans woman whose story is shaped not by transition but by family, loss and the need for connection, resisting the abstraction through which trans lives are often politicised. Following the Secretary of State’s veto of the Scottish Gender Recognition Reform Bill and the wider weaponisation of trans people in contemporary culture wars, Mar Sin Leat offers an opportunity for Scottish cinema to actively support trans people through representation that is humane, grounded and rooted in lived experience.

The film also questions unhealthy gender bias, particularly the expectations placed on men and women when it comes to expressing emotion. Fergus embodies a form of masculinity shaped by silent endurance, revealing how rigid gender norms can inhibit emotional honesty, even in moments of profound loss.

At its core, Mar Sin Leat explores the importance of processing grief rather than repressing it. To ensure this portrayal was handled sensitively, we partnered with At A Loss and Cruse Bereavement Care Scotland — charities we support — speaking with people who had been kept from a parent’s funeral, as well as those who made the difficult decision to keep their children away from the funeral of the other parent. We were struck by how common this experience is, often driven by society’s discomfort with death, particularly where children are concerned. This research revealed how unresolved grief can shape entire family dynamics, and how differently people experience and express loss. One of the clearest findings was how difficult it can be simply to find the words to convey it. So long as these conversations remain taboo, processing loss — and moving forward from it — will remain a monumental task.

Healing can only begin once silence is broken.

Mar Sin Leat is set to tackle the topic of grief head on in creative ways. The film addresses the raw grief of those of us left behind, related to complex feelings and emotions tied up with relationships before the death occurred.

As with any of us dealing with the loss of someone close, the emotions take the heroine, Skye by surprise. Others of us, like Skye, will find ourselves grappling with unexpressed or associated grief from long ago that emerges as we face a current bereavement.