THE BANSHEES OF INISHERIN

As Civil War rages in Ireland, so does a similar war between Colin Farrell and Brendon Gleeson in this brilliantly black tragicomedy from Martin McDonagh. A rocky coast hosts a bloody battle of dissolving friendship, small village happenings, and a show-stealing donkey.

WORDS BY BETH BENNETT

On an insignificant day, small and simple Pádraic (Colin Farrell) is being ignored by his best friend, the lonely, quiet Colm (Brendan Gleeson). It feels as if they’re caught in a fight that Pádraic is unaware of. Soon, however, he discovers that his best friend, well, no longer wants to be his friend anymore. This incites an elegantly simple but intriguing tale of nihilism, legacy, bloody extremes, and unfortunate donkeys.

Helmed as the Babe of Venice, The Banshees of Inisherin feels a breath of fresh air from McDonagh’s previous outing: ‘Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri’. It’s stripped back, uncomplicated, and singularly focused on story, not preoccupied with addressing major political issues that character becomes sacrificed - such as my personal feelings towards Three Billboards. You can see, very plainly, in Banshees, the electric elements of McDonagh’s early plays, a theatre of sparking and addictive characters performing on a rocky stage as they bring out the worst in each other. The off-kilter dialogue, slightly skewed direction, evokes almost a Lanthimosian aesthetic to film, comparisons easily able to be drawn between Banshees and The Killing of a Sacred Deer or The Favourite.

Reuniting Farrell and Gleeson for the first time since McDonagh’s ‘In Bruges’, they’re afforded the support of a stellar Irish cast: Barry Keoghan, an instant scene-stealer, plays the local ruffian Dominic who suffers at the hand of his policeman father (Gary Lydon). Kerry Condon steps out as Siobhán, Pádraic’s sister yearning for a bigger life who’s bogged down by her brother’s lackadaisical approach to emotional maturation.

It’s in these performances that we are expressed ideas beyond the scope of the characters involved, the bones of each marrowed with a unique philosophical take that is exclusive to their ambitions and narrative. In our assumed ‘antagonist’ (I use the term somewhat loosely) Colm, we see a man marred with the passage of time, desperate to craft a legacy; Pádraic explores the experiential way of life, a willingness to go with the flow as it passes by. Even the plucky Dominic, one sees nihilism in his actions, encouraged by the fist of his father.

In some deeper reading, the philosophies entangled in this film expand beyond this civil war of friendship and into the greater setting of the Irish Civil war. Pádraic’s contentment with the way things are evoking that British sensibility whilst Colm’s ruthless attempt at amputation bares a haunting resemblance to the desperation of the Irish Republicans who were willing to sacrifice the utmost for independence. With canon roars signalling the turn of acts, the film manages to be this political without the pageantry in Three Billboards served.

All this to say, I can’t recommend this film enough. It’s as funny as it is horrifying and, as the film progresses, the sweeping landscapes of the Irish coast will grow as much a home to you as the small souls who haunt it.

Grab your donkey, grab your shears, and experience this on the silver screen if you can.

The Banshees of Inisherin is now showing in select UK cinemas.

Images courtesy of Searchlight / The Walt Disney Company