The Banshees of Inisherin
Men will cut off whole body parts before they go to therapy.
Colin Farrell offers up a career-best performance in Martin McDonagh’s The Banshees of Inisherin.
In 1923, Ireland is in the midst of a bloody civil war. The cannon fire and rifles have missed the small coastal island of Inisherin, but that doesn’t mean they’ve avoided a war. When Colm (Brendan Gleeson) declares that he no longer wants to speak to his best friend Pádraic (Colin Farrell), a rift forms in Inisherin that might sink the whole island.
For his part, Pádraic doesn’t understand what happened. The day before they were fine, and now Colm won’t speak with him, simply declaring their friendship over. This would be devastating to anyone, but in a village where the same 10 people go to the pub every day, it’s near world ending. People offer Pádraic advice and incessantly ask what happened.
Colm, for his part, keeps it simple. He thinks Pádraic is dull. He wants to focus the rest of his life on art and creation and doesn’t have time to listen to Pádraic drone on and on about his donkey or cows. So, they aren’t friends anymore and Pádraic should never speak to him again.
Simple.
But for Pádraic, things aren’t that easy. Colm is his best friend. More than that, he may be his only friend. As the loneliness eats at him, Pádraic convinces himself he can fix it. But Colm doesn’t want anything fixed, he just wants peace. To get it, he says he’ll cut a finger off of himself the next time Pádraic speaks to him. As the only fiddler of any repute in the town, this is a grave threat indeed.
Surely Colm isn’t serious…is he?
Pádraic might just find out.
There comes a point in every friendship where one or the other might need a break. Granted, most of us don’t end up dripping blood on a pub table, but then again most of us don’t live in writer/director Martin McDonagh’s (Three Billboards Outside Ebbing Missouri) world. The Banshees of Inisherin is a darkly hilarious reflection on loneliness, existential dread, and the feeling of being trapped by your own life. Essentially what he’s made is the Mirror Universe version of The Quiet Man where all the quaint Irish charm becomes oppressive and menacing.
McDonagh crafts the fictional island of Inisherin to seem like an idyllic little nook in that time forgot. Everyone knows everyone. The post comes into the general store, where you’ll be berated by the shopkeeper if you don’t bring her good gossip. There’s even a witchy woman who roams the roads cackling and predicting doom. It’s quaint until it’s not. McDonagh plays with these sorts of “adorable small community” stereotypes, showing that they’re in fact more of a prison than a support system. As more and more people become involved in the break between Colm and Pádraic, the discord seems to infect the rest of the island, bringing to light terrible secrets and long-ignored truths.
The problem is, both sides have a point. Pádraic is not a mean or bad man, he’s just…dull. And realizing that the person he held dear has despised him for a great deal of their friendship cracks the foundations of who he is. He starts questioning his other relationships, and whether he is the person he thinks he is.
As for Colm, sure it’s harsh to tell someone that you no longer ever want to speak to them again, but…he’s trapped on a little island with the world’s dullest man bending his ear every waking moment. It’s draining, and he’s suddenly started to think about his own mortality and what he’ll leave behind. Now the idea of idle chitchat over a pint is unbearable when he should be composing on his fiddle or expanding his mind.
McDonagh has said before that it’s interesting to see whose side viewers fall on. The movie operates a bit like a Buzzfeed Personality Quiz, but with more blood. Are you a Colm or a Pádraic? Maybe you’re Jenny the Donkey, there are a lot of sides…
While McDonagh’s acerbic writing is compelling, the real heart of the movie, and the tragedy, come from Gleeson and Farrell’s outstanding performances. Gleeson’s dry, sarcasm fits perfectly with the gruff Colm, who’s decided he’ll waste no more time on niceties if you please. He won’t budge from his new views, even in the face of a nosey priest.
But the real revelation of the film might be Farrell, who plays a sweet, uncomplicated man who realizes slowly that everything he believes about himself and his community is a lie. His best friend thinks he’s no longer worth speaking to. His sister pities him and secretly finds him a bit dumb. Only the village idiot is more poorly regarded than him, and it’s a tight race. He goes from happy-go-lucky to deeply unmoored over the course of the movie and it’s quietly heartbreaking to watch.
If you’re a fan of the dark caustic wit of McDonagh’s other works like In Bruges, The Banshees of Inisherin will be a delight. A funny, biting look at how we all navigate isolation and our feelings of life passing us by, it’s more than just a narrative about a quirky town. Farrell’s performance should gain him some notice this awards season, so get your tickets and check out one of the year’s best films.
