Martin McDonagh hasn’t yet put a foot wrong in his directorial career. Beginning with 2008’s sublime In Bruges, a dark comedy starring Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson as two hitmen hiding out in the titular city after an assassination goes awry, all the way to 2017’s Oscar winner Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri which featured a fierce performance from Frances McDormand, the Irish playwright has built a reputation for delivering sterling character-driven dramady. His latest release, The Banshees of Inisherin, sees him return to his native Irish roots as well as team up with his In Bruges stars Farrell and Gleeson for another darkly comic take on friendship.
McDonagh is no stranger to the small islets off the coast of Ireland. His 90s stage plays The Cripple of Inishmaan and The Lieutenant of Inishmore are both set there, and feature similar themes of claustrophobic, insular village life. This is the kind of world where the whole island rocks up at one particular pub every day at 2pm because there’s just nothing else to do. In such a vacuum of entertainment as this, every small detail can be magnified a hundredfold, leading to all kinds of circumstances. It’s exactly this atmosphere in which a small decision made in The Banshees of Inisherin has huge consequences for the whole village.
Fingers and Thumbs
Pádraic Súilleabháin (Colin Farrell) is a simple farmer living a simple life in 1920s Inisherin. He cohabits with his sister Siobhan (Kerry Condon) and their host of animals, including an adorable little donkey, does his rounds delivering his stock, and then calls in to his friend Colm Doherty (Brendan Gleeson) to go round the pub for a few pints. His life on the gorgeously picturesque village is quaint and peaceful. Until one day Colm quite suddenly decides he doesn’t want to be friends with Pádraic anymore. “I just don’t like you no more” he tells his shell-shocked former friend. Pádraic is understandably upset and pushes for more information. Is Colm depressed? Did they have a row Pádraic was unaware of? Why would he suddenly do this?
As Pádraic starts getting more frustrated, Colm announces that every time Pádraic speaks to him from now on, he will chop off one of his own fingers. Given that Colm is a musician who spends his days crafting a new song on the fiddle he calls The Banshees of Inisherin, this proclamation is stunning. Thereafter tension unfolds as Pádraic grapples with his own uncertainty and his desire not to see his friend lose any digits. Neither man seems to be willing to back down, as Pádraic refuses to take silence for an answer, and Colm is handy with a pair of sheers and lacks any kind of partiality towards himself.
The whole village (all ten of them, one supposes) is then caught up in this oddly gruesome drama. From the local policeman Peadar and his gormless son Dominic (Barry Keoghan) to the village ‘ghoul’ Mrs. McCormack – a Macbeth-like crone dressed in dark robes who ominously predicts at least one death shall arise from this conflict. In this whirlpool of escalating chaos, old grievances are renewed, new ones are brought to light, and plenty of bloody fingers abound.
This set-up is McDonagh‘s specialty. A grim set of stakes laid down, an impending clash of personalities, an audience caught in the riptide of the inevitable destruction sure to follow. Consider Mildred’s tense face-off with Willoughby in Three Billboards, or Ken’s instruction to kill Ray in In Bruges. Once the stakes are laid the rest is a foregone conclusion. The magic in McDonagh‘s work, however, has always been in the dialogue.
The Banshees of Inisherin is no different. Farrell‘s guileless Pádraic is something of the village idiot and his earnest simplicity is both endearing and hilarious. At one point Colm informs Pádraic that he wants to be remembered as a musician, like Mozart was, because everyone knows the name of a man who made music over a century ago. “Well I don’t”, Pádraic responds, “so there goes that theory”.
Poor Pádraic
This is certainly Colin Farrell‘s film, and he absolutely shines here. Pádraic’s initial reaction to his friend’s betrayal is so subtle, a slow realisation crawling over his face. It’s heartbreaking and breathtaking all at once. As well as this Farrell has always had a great knack for delivering McDonagh‘s lines with a po-faced sincerity that is genuinely hysterical. Pádraic could easily be an ancestor of In Bruges‘ Ray with his easygoing charm and simple-minded observations. A recurrent motif throughout Banshees is the question of whether Pádraic’s reputation as ‘a nice guy’ is an inherently good value, or just a by-product of his dimness. It’s a fascinating concept to interrogate, especially as Pádraic begins testing the boundaries of his reputation in order to win back Colm’s friendship – leading to a side-splitting scene concerning a man who has lost at least one parent to death by bread-van.
Gleeson as Colm is the opposite to Pádraic. Whereas the latter is all quaint joviality and the ostensible heart of small-town Irish life, Colm is the bitter realist whose dreams of artistic success supersede any notions of either morality or institutional expectations. It’s clear the gulf between the two men lies within their expectations of life; for Pádraic things are ticking along nicely, but for Colm time is running out to do anything worth any meaning. When Colm makes his decision, it throws Pádraic’s well-ordered life off balance. Gleeson is excellent, of course. His gruff, melancholy performance is the perfect balance to Farrell’s, a heavy weight resting on his shoulders and a silent contemplation throughout the movie’s runtime.
Elsewhere Kerry Condon threatens to steal the whole thing as the fed-up Siobhan, a woman who has to share a bedroom with her brother because there’s no eligible bachelors on the island of Inisherin to settle down with, save for the bouncy, primal Dominic, played by Barry Keoghan with that usual bordering-on-psychotic physicality of his. Her exasperated responses to the whole saga of Pádraic and Colm are on point – “you’re all fecking boring!” she retorts to Colm when the latter explains that he finds her brother dull – and when everything else starts to fall to pieces, Siobhan always seem like the only adult in the room.
Conclusion:
Amid its sumptuously decadent visuals, The Banshees of Inisherin hides a dark heart full of black-as-night humour. Featuring incredible performances all-around but especially from Farrell, and some of the best writing you’re going to see this year, it’s not one to miss. Its grim outlook might not be for everyone, but anyone who loves McDonagh‘s work might consider this his best yet.
The Banshees of Inisherin is Martin McDonough’s fourth movie. Which is your favourite? Let us know in the comments!
The Banshees of Inisherin had its UK premiere at the London Film Festival on 13th October.
Watch The Banshees of Inisherin
Does content like this matter to you?
Become a Member and support film journalism. Unlock access to all of Film Inquiry`s great articles. Join a community of like-minded readers who are passionate about cinema - get access to our private members Network, give back to independent filmmakers, and more.