The Banshees of Inisherin releases in theaters on Oct. 21, 2022.
Gunfire and cannons of the Irish Civil War rage on the west coast of Ireland in The Banshees of Inisherin. Still, that conflict remains on the periphery of Martin McDonagh’s follow-up to Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. The writer-director focuses our attention on another civil war, more personal and increasingly psychological, brewing between two long-time best friends Pádraic Súilleabháin (Colin Farrell) and Colm Doherty (Brendan Gleeson) on the fictional island of Inisherin in 1923. It’s the type of isolated isle where homesteads are sparse but beautiful vistas are plenty, which cinematographer Ben Davies introduces elegantly in the opening scenes. Wide shots take in the naturally gorgeous greens, blues, and browns of this coastal community, setting a lovely backdrop for this darkly funny and dramatic tale of friendship.
On Inisherin everybody knows each other, everybody knows your business, and the routine of intensely local life keeps everyone ticking along until the clock strikes death. At 2 pm everyday, Pádraic eagerly, earnestly, knocks for Colm and the two head to the pub for a pint or five of the brown stuff. When Colm one day chooses to coldly ignore his call, Pádraic’s circle are bemused by the slight, from his sister Siobhan (Kerry Condon) to JonJo the pub landlord (Pat Shortt). It’s in these early interactions that McDonagh cements the small-town humor; the quickly delivered back and forths earn several cackles. It provides a grounded yet gossipy tension that builds with biting force as the ambiguity of the rebuff becomes ever more explicit.
Pádraic’s amiability and good nature are intrinsic but slowly warped by this one-sided breakup. Farrell demonstrates this simple man’s torment with a brow so frequently furrowed that the pain of Colm’s rejection for being “dull” is almost too uncomfortable to take in – especially as his unwillingness to accept the snub leads to ever more dire and spiteful consequences. There’s something rather remarkable about Farrell’s thick eyebrows that they take you on as much of an emotional journey as the rest of the actor’s body does. It’s when this despairing look is framed in a window, looking in or out at his former best friend, that the increasing distance between the two men is ever more calcified.
Farrell plays Pádraic as an open book while Gleeson’s Colm is almost impenetrable. He’s such an enigmatic presence in the village that both the kindest and the cruelest want to be his drinking buddy yet he rarely gives anything away thanks to the hard face that accompanies him at nearly every moment. Colm’s cold silence might be exasperating to watch as Farrell’s puppy dog Pádraic seeks answers and acknowledgement but Gleeson’s steely delivery of McDonagh’s dialogue causes blunt force trauma to the soul.
Condon’s exasperated Siobhan is a welcome respite to the masculine folly at play. The main thrust of the film might center on Pádraic (mostly) and Colm but her relatable affection for and frustration with the prideful men she’s surrounded by – as well as Inisherin’s limited opportunities for an intelligent woman such as herself – is a subplot that warranted more attention. Barry Keoghan, meanwhile, reinforces his penchant for creepy characters in Dominic, yet there’s far more to his doltish son of the island’s brutish police officer. Underneath the slurry enunciation and awkward candor, Keoghan tenderly reveals a man in as much, if not more, pain than his compatriots.
The film’s title shares its name with the musical piece Colm is determined to compose for the sake of his legacy and Gleeson's nifty fiddling skills are put to strong use. The folksy element of Carter Burwell's plucky score has its own sense of humor. Then there are the atmospheric choral voices bolstering a cloud of ominous melancholy over proceedings as well as a pagan undercurrent contrasting with the Catholic imagery and hypocrisy, personified mostly by Sheila Flitton’s flinty widow Mrs. McCormick. The Banshees of Inisherin is a welcome reunion of McDonagh with Farrell and Gleeson; all three are in sharp form in a blackly funny harangue of masculinity, legacy, and humanity.
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