The Banshees Of Inisherin (2022 | UK, Ireland | 114 minutes | Martin McDonagh)
Martin McDonagh revisits 1920s Ireland with a stirring dark comedy of an abruptly severed friendship on a tiny island of sad boring men. The British-born son of Irish parents, the film represents not-exactly-a-homecoming from a writer/director whose relationship with Irishness is, well, complicated. It also represents a reunion with his In Bruges co-stars, with Brendan Gleeson as a bachelor who’s had enough dull conversations to last a lifetime and Colin Farrell as the devoted pal who’s too stubbornly simpleminded to know how to take no for an answer. He and his magnificent eyebrows dredge rich pathos from simple niceness, no easy task indeed.
On the tiny semi-fictional island of Inisherin, all emerald farmland fields divided jigsaw-like by low stone walls hovering at the edges of breathtaking seaside real estate, Farrell’s Pádraic makes a daily routine of knocking on Colm’s (Gleeson) door every afternoon for a pint at the pub. On this day, though, Colm steadfastly refuses to answer his door, firmly entrenching himself in his dark cottage until his confused friend gives up and plods back up the hill alone. Everyone at the village watering hole is shocked to see Pádraic without Colm, and the balance is thrown further off kilter when Colm and his ever-attentive Irish sheepdog arrive, orders a beer, and takes it outside. Pressed for answers, he bluntly tells Pádraic that their friendship is over and that he never wants to speak to him again.
The breakup is incomprehensible to Pádraic, a small time dairy farmer who lives with his sister Siobhán (Kerry Condon) and his beloved miniature donkey in the house they’ve shared since the death of their parents nearly a decade prior. A look at the calendar the next day brings a spark of relief that Colm’s proclamation may have been a prank, but alas, his friend is very, very serious. Repeated entreaties to bridge the sudden gulf between them only serve to widen the chasm. Colm so steadfastly wants to focus what remains of his life to pursuits of the mind, composing music, and glancing toward immortality that he’s willing to offer a grim ultimatum to shake loose the familiar bonds of friendship.
Gleeson plays his character with cryptic despair, there are allusions to a history of depression, but the source of new resolve is wisely left largely to the imagination. For his part, Farrell embodies Pádraic with a purity of kindness whose simplicity of outlook is played for laughs without necessarily making him the butt of the joke. There’s a real pain in his sudden isolation that can’t be filled by the companionship of a younger, dimmer, townie (Barry Keoghan, far less an agent of chaos than when they co-starred in The Killing of a Sacred Deer, but no less a mercurial presence) who provides comic relief to cover a dark backstory. Siobhán, the lone reader of books and rare island resident who quietly yearns for the opportunities of the mainland, may have some insight into Colm’s change of heart but is unable to convey it to her brother. Kerry Condon portrays the character with sparks of yearning, ferocious loyalty, and increasingly threadbare frustration.
The island and its insular residents, in a state of perpetual equilibrium make for a comedically suffocating backdrop for the core troubles. An old woman haunts the island with grim proclamations and entreaties for company of her own; town gossips watch every move; and a violent policeman patrols the streets with a madness for power. It’s 1923 and across the bay, signs of an ongoing civil war rage, though no one on Inisherin can seem to remember what it is they’re fighting out. It’s all very metaphorical, but the allusions don’t overshadow the human-level drama and the startling extremes of an evisceration of a longtime companionship of convenience.
Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri infuriated me in the simplicity of its alliances, but Banshees is much less eager to choose sides. The situation and wordplay of McDonagh’s agile script provide constant laughs as counterbalance for what could’ve been a story of funeral insularity. Colm’s methods may border on madness, but his Gleeson sells his motivation convincingly. He’s great, but this is film is all Farrell and he finds rich textures in a befuddled hero on a picturesque island whose dimensions perfectly fit his character’s small ambitions. That we stay on his side as the stakes escalate and he finds a spine of sorts speaks to the miracle of his performance in an elegiac comedy of interpersonal drama.
A version of this review previously ran as part of our coverage of the Toronto International Film Festival, where The Banshees of Inisherin had its North American premiere. The film is now playing at local theaters, including SIFF Cinema Uptown.