Rob Munday
For a long time, I never wanted to become a parent. In my limited experiences of spending time with children, I’d often struggled to connect with them and worried that the same emotional distance might exist with my own. It’s this kind of awkward familial connection – alongside broader existential questions – that lies at the heart of Yoni Ben-Haim’s fascinating short film, Bury Your Nephew.
Co-written by Ben-Haim and Orson Tarkow-Reinisch, the film explores what the director describes as “a more distant familial love”. Centred on an uncle, played by Karl Pilkington – best known as the famously gruff producer on Ricky Gervais’ radio show – as he attempts to form a bond with his teenage nephew, the 20-minute short allows plenty of time for its characters to sit within their mutual discomfort. In doing so, Ben-Haim invites us to experience both the tension and the humour that naturally emerge from their uneasy relationship.
Described by Ben-Haim as “an honest sentimental reflection” on his own journey from early adolescence into adulthood, Bury Your Nephew deftly balances darkness with warmth. Its willingness to find humour within emotional uncertainty prevents the film from ever becoming weighed down by its more existential concerns, resulting in a work that feels both thoughtful and deeply human.
Harry Jones (L) as Liam, a teenager struggling to connect to his Uncle Toby, played by Karl Pilkington (R).
As a fan of Pilkington since his producer days, my initial curiosity about Bury Your Nephew was admittedly centred on a simple question: could he act? How much of his performance draws on the persona audiences already know and how much reflects genuine acting craft is difficult to separate – and, ultimately, I don’t think it matters. Pilkington is perfectly cast as the caring yet socially awkward uncle, delivering both the film’s biggest laughs – such as his emphatic description of his nephew’s mother as a “slag” – and some of its most emotionally affecting moments, particularly when the conversation turns to death.
Ultimately, for a film so preoccupied with mortality and strained family relationships, Bury Your Nephew arrives at a surprisingly hopeful conclusion. By quite literally breaking ground, the uncle discovers a way to bridge the emotional distance between himself and his nephew. Few relationships are likely to be repaired through the digging of a grave, but Ben-Haim’s film gently suggests that meaningful connection often requires us to meet people in unexpected places – and sometimes to go to unexpected lengths to find common ground.