Don't hate the media, become the media. Jello Biafra
Stuart Armstrong
Meat Raffle
IRIS PRIZE 2025
Nomination: Best British Short
Fri 17, Oct - 11:00
Fri 17, Oct - 14:00
All images © Meat Raffle
Oct, 8, 2025
'Cumbria, 1998. Terrified he's turned his son queer, closeted dad Rich plots to rig his local pub’s Christmas turkey draw to prove what it means to be a real man.'
Hi Stuart, thank you for taking the time to talk with us ahead of IRIS Prize 2025, how excited are you to be at the festival with Meat Raffle?
I’m just so grateful to the programmers, honestly. It’s such a huge honour - I’ve admired Iris for years, and it feels like the perfect home for Meat Raffle. It’s a festival that champions queer stories from every corner of the UK and beyond, so to be part of that is a bit surreal.
Meat Raffle had its World Premiere at the 2025 Bolton International Film Festival, where it was also nominated for Made Up North. What was the experience like sharing your latest short with such a passionate film audience?
Bolton was brilliant. It’s such a warm, genuine festival - you can feel how much they care about the filmmakers. Screening Meat Raffle there felt really special too, because it’s a north west story through and through. Hearing the audience laugh - and go quiet - in all the right places was honestly the best feeling.
You’re also nominated for Best British Short at Iris Prize — does being nominated add any additional pressure on you, or are you able to enjoy the process?
A bit of both! It’s always nerve-wracking putting your work out there, especially when it’s something personal. But mainly I just feel grateful. It’s been such a mad journey - we made Meat Raffle in Carlisle with loads of local cast and crew, so to see it recognised like this is amazing.
How much does coming from Cumbria influence your work as a writer/director?
Massively. I think growing up here - a bit out on the edge - makes you see the world differently. Cumbrian voices rarely get a platform in film and TV, so I’m quite driven by wanting to change that and show the beauty and bleakness of this place without sort of sanding down its rough edges.
What does having your film as part of Iris Prize mean to you?
It’s huge. Iris has such a strong track record for platforming queer voices. The films that come out of it are of such a high standard. So to have Meat Raffle sit among that line-up and find a home there feels incredible. It’s a queer story that doesn’t fit a neat box, and Iris celebrates that.
Can you tell me how Meat Raffle came about — what inspired your 90s Christmas-themed short film?
I’d been wanting to write a kind of bleak farce for ages - like a northern La Cage aux Folles with the grimy, grotesqueness of something like The League of Gentlemen. I actually had “Meat Raffle” written down on a list of funny band name ideas, and one day I just looked at it and could suddenly see the whole film in my head - the exasperated bloke trying to rig the draw, the glamorous landlady, the tombola, etc.
From there, I started working out the story with my mate Joseph Daly, who came up with the Christmas setting and the whole Santa costume/turkey theft idea. Once we cracked the father-son dynamic, it all clicked into place.
What I loved most was the mix of humour and sadness - this man who’s desperate to impress his son but goes about it in such a misguided, tragicomic way. It quickly became a story about repression, shame and masculinity. I grew up around men like Rich - well-meaning and genuinely funny, but totally bottled up emotionally - and I wanted to capture that world with honesty and humour..
Did you have any apprehensions about making a period piece?
Yeah, mostly around getting it right on a budget. The 90s are close enough to feel familiar, but different enough to trip you up with details. We had to be clever and use texture, camera work and design choices to make it feel of its time without being gimmicky. Luckily, our production designer Hannah Rawson was amazing. As was our DOP Ben Cotgrove.
How close do you like to keep to your screenplay once you start shooting?
I like to stay flexible. I come from a screenwriting background, so I’ll always start with a tight script - but once you’re on set, the magic often happens in the moments between what’s written. If an actor finds something better in the rhythm or tone, I’m not against trying it. A lot of my favourite moments in Meat Raffle came from trusting the cast and letting it breathe.
What were the biggest challenges you faced bringing Meat Raffle to the big screen?
The biggest challenge was logistics - shooting an ambitious period comedy in three days on a modest BFI budget. But also the pressure of wanting to do right by the community we were representing. Hopefully we achieved that.
When working on a short like this, how essential is collaboration between you and your team?
Oh it’s everything, isn’t it. I always say filmmaking is a team sport, and I had an incredible team alongside me. Everyone poured their energy and personality and heart and soul into the shoot and went above and beyond to give the film a texture and authenticity beyond its budget.
You wrote and directed Lay-By, which won Best LGBTQ+ Film at TVIFF 2024. What did you learn from that experience that helped you on Meat Raffle?
Lay-By was a bit of a training ground for me as a director, where I learned to trust tone and mix humour and discomfort. It’s a tricky balance to get right, especially when you’re tackling queer loneliness and shame with comedy. But I think that experience gave me the confidence to push Meat Raffle a bit further and make something funnier and darker, but still with that pathos to it.
What was the message you wanted to say with Meat Raffle, and do you think you achieved it?
At its core, it’s about how men show - or struggle to show - love. Rich is terrified his son might turn out like him, but by the end he realises the only way to protect him is to be honest. I wanted to show that vulnerability can exist in this blokey world of pints and meat raffles. And I’m really proud of what we’ve made and the way it’s been speaking to people.
Have you always had a passion for filmmaking?
I was definitely that kid filming little sketches on a camcorder, and I always wanted to go to film school - which I did. So I moved to London to study, and then ended up staying for about 8 years and working in the art department, as well as as a screenwriter, until I came back to Cumbria.
And I felt a bit lost at first, as though I’d blown my chance to become successful because I wasn’t in a big city anymore. But it’s only in the last couple of years that I’ve come to understand there’s a demand for regional voices, and that you can do it anywhere, regardless of your postcode - so that’s when I started trying to direct my own scripts, and I’m so glad that I did or I wouldn’t be talking to you right now!
"I’m very interested with the gap between what people say and what they actually feel."
What does Meat Raffle say about you as a filmmaker and the stories you want to tell?
Hopefully that I like finding comedy in tragedy and vice versa. Or that I’m drawn to flawed people who mean well but mess things up. I’m very interested with the gap between what people say and what they actually feel. And I think I’ll always be interested in class, queerness and small-town absurdity - all of which sort of permeate the film.
How much has your background as a screenwriter helped your approach to directing?
It’s been invaluable. It means I’ve already got a strong sense of what makes a story - at least I hope I do! But directing’s taught me to loosen up too, and to let a story live and breathe once you’re on set. But the script is always there of course - and you’ve got to remember there’s always a reason you put something in it. Like, when you’re on set it’s easy to forget about those details, so you must trust it with your life.
What filmmakers inspire you, and if you could recommend one film that really connected with you, what would it be?
I love directors that build worlds out of flawed, absurd characters. I suppose people like Sean Baker, Martin McDonagh, or Bruce Robinson - like Withnail & I will always be my favourite film. It’s funny and tragic and endlessly quotable.
Do you have any advice for anyone wanting to get into filmmaking?
Don’t wait for permission. The industry’s slow and there’s never enough funding. Start small, make stuff with your mates, write stories only you could write. And be helpful and nice to people - the nice ones get hired again.
And finally, what message would you like your audience to take away from Meat Raffle?
I think that it’s never too late to start being honest. And that familial love doesn’t always look like hugs and heart-to-hearts - sometimes it looks like drinking pints and pinching turkeys.