The story of My Wrongs #8245–8249 & 117
What starts as a simple favor spirals into existential crisis in Chris Morris's My Wrongs #8245–8249 & 117. An unnamed man agrees to housesit for his friend Imogen, a task that seems straightforward enough until Imogen calls with a reminder: take Rothko, her dog, for a walk. But here's where the film's dark comedy kicks in—Rothko doesn't need a walk. Rothko needs a confession. What unfolds over twelve minutes is a psychological interrogation disguised as pet care, where a man finds himself increasingly convinced he's on trial for every wrong he's committed, every mistake he's made, every failure stacked against him. The dog becomes judge, jury, and executioner, and there's nowhere to run when you're trapped in someone else's living room.
Behind the making of My Wrongs #8245–8249 & 117
Written and directed by Chris Morris, My Wrongs #8245–8249 & 117 emerged from the fertile ground of Morris's BBC Radio 1 show Blue Jam, where the monologue that inspired this film originally aired. Morris, a provocateur known for pushing the boundaries of comedy into uncomfortable territory, brought that same sensibility to the screen through Warp Films and Film4 Productions—a pairing that suggests serious artistic intent behind what could've been a throwaway gag. The film stars Paddy Considine, an actor whose ability to convey mounting panic and moral bewilderment made him the perfect vessel for a man slowly losing his grip on reality during what should be an ordinary afternoon. Considine's career trajectory—from indie darling to serious dramatic actor—shows why Morris cast him here: he can make you believe in the absurd without winking at the camera. The 2002 release date places this squarely in a moment when short films were beginning to gain real cultural traction, and Morris was already establishing himself as someone willing to interrogate anxiety and guilt through comedy rather than lecture about it.
What makes My Wrongs #8245–8249 & 117 stand out
The genius of this film isn't just the premise—it's how relentlessly it commits to the bit. Rothko doesn't bark or perform cute dog tricks; he functions as a mirror held up to the protagonist's conscience, and that conscience is not clean. What's striking is how Morris refuses to let the audience off the hook either. You're watching a man slowly unravel, and you can't look away because you recognize something of yourself in his panic—the way guilt accumulates, the way we internalize judgment, the way a simple task becomes a referendum on your entire moral character. Considine's performance anchors this descent beautifully; his face moves from bemused to defensive to genuinely haunted, and you track every shift. The film's structure—building pressure without providing release—mirrors the experience of anxiety itself, which is probably the point. It's not trying to make you laugh so much as make you uncomfortable, and that's a much harder thing to pull off. The title itself, with its numbered wrongs, suggests a ledger that's impossibly long, impossibly damning. There's no punchline waiting at the end, just the weight of accumulated failure.
Where to stream My Wrongs #8245–8249 & 117 online
Finding short films can be trickier than tracking down feature-length content, but My Wrongs #8245–8249 & 117 is available on major OTT services. Movie OTT maintains a live tracker of where this title streams, so you can check current availability across platforms in your region without hunting through multiple apps. The film's twelve-minute runtime makes it perfect for a quick viewing session—you can squeeze it in during a lunch break or as a palate cleanser between longer features. Since it originally aired on BBC Radio before becoming a film, there's a history of British public broadcasting behind it, and that legacy means it tends to have wider availability on platforms that prioritize independent and arthouse content. Check the Where to Watch widget at the top of this page for the most up-to-date platform list.
Frequently asked questions
Q: Who directed My Wrongs #8245–8249 & 117?
Chris Morris wrote and directed the film. Morris is known for his provocative comedy work, including his BBC Radio 1 show Blue Jam, from which this short film's concept was adapted.
Q: Is My Wrongs #8245–8249 & 117 based on a true story?
No, it's a fictional comedy. However, it was based on a monologue from Morris's radio show Blue Jam, so it grew from improvisational comedy material rather than being adapted from existing literature.
Q: How long is My Wrongs #8245–8249 & 117?
The film runs just 12 minutes, making it a short film rather than a feature-length production. Its brevity is part of its impact—the pressure builds without relief.
Q: Who stars in My Wrongs #8245–8249 & 117?
Paddy Considine plays the unnamed protagonist housesitter. Considine's ability to convey mounting psychological distress is central to the film's dark comedy.
Q: What's the IMDb rating for My Wrongs #8245–8249 & 117?
The film holds a 6.1/10 rating on IMDb, which reflects its divisive nature—some viewers find it brilliantly uncomfortable, while others find it too bleak or niche for their taste.
Final thoughts on My Wrongs #8245–8249 & 117
This isn't a film for everyone. It's deliberately uncomfortable, refuses easy laughs, and trades conventional narrative satisfaction for psychological unease. But if you're drawn to comedy that takes risks—that uses humor as a weapon rather than a comfort—My Wrongs #8245–8249 & 117 rewards the twelve minutes you'll invest in it. Paddy Considine's descent is mesmerizing, Chris Morris's direction is precise, and the film's central conceit—a dog as an instrument of moral interrogation—never stops being darkly funny. It's the kind of short that sticks with you, not because it's heartwarming, but because it's honest about how guilt works. Worth seeking out.
