The near-perfect The Banshees of Inisherin weaves comedy with tragedy
Darkly funny and sometimes deeply grim, The Banshees of Inisherin proves again the alchemical mix of Colin Farrell and Martin McDonagh.
Colin Farrell had one of the more interesting careers of the 2000s.
He had a meteoric rise and then just as quickly, a steep decline. Languishing in B-grade flicks no one remembers, it looked like the dream was over.
And then in 2008 renowned Irish playwright Martin McDonagh had the flash idea of making his first feature and he wanted Colin Farrell to play a rookie hit man who accidentally shoots and kills a young child on a job.
Farrell’s onscreen redemption arc in In Bruges seemed to bleed into the real world, and the talented actor turned it around with unexpected performances in the likes of The Lobster and After Yang, working with filmmakers including Steve McQueen, Peter Weir and Sofia Coppola.
Of course, the person he owed an artistic debt to the most was McDonagh, who saw that Farrell’s wild-eyed intensity and aching vulnerability was being wasted on playing the villain in that terrible Daredevil movie or swaggering around in the Miami Vice reboot.
So, when Farrell reteams with McDonagh – and you throw in his In Bruges co-star Brendan Gleeson – it’s a big deal. Actually, it’s a Big Deal.
The Banshees of Inisherin reunites the trio for more of that alchemical mix of Irish humour and bleakness.
It’s laugh-out-loud hilarious – sometimes uncomfortably so, and you catch yourself wondering if you’re a bad person for chortling at such things. And it’s also so grim sometimes, there’s a heaviness that is genuinely affecting. It is very, very Irish.
McDonagh expertly balances the two, threading that humour and pathos like a master weaver who knows exactly when to change colours.
Set in 1923, against the backdrop of the Irish Civil War, the island of Inisherin has largely escaped the conflict on the mainland.
The dimwitted and sweet Padraic (Farrell) arrives at his friend Colm’s (Gleeson) home as he does every day just before 2pm, for their daily pub jaunt. Padraic is confused when Colm doesn’t want a bar of him, not just today but on any day from now on.
There’s no particular fight or instigating event, Colm merely wishes to spend his time composing folk music or pursuing something for which he’ll be remembered, rather than listen to Padraic’s dull chatterings.
When Padraic continues to pursue Colm’s friendship, despite the older man’s unkindness, selfishness and vanity, Colm threatens to cut off one of his own fingers for each time Padraic speaks to him.
It’s an absurd reaction, disproportionate to the extreme – McDonagh uses it here not to wax on about the complexities of male friendship as it is about how arbitrarily cruel humans can be.
Gleeson is the straight man foil for Farrell’s deeply compassionate performance, and if there are any faults with The Banshees of Inisherin, it’s that Colm remains largely inexplicable and inaccessible. But perhaps that’s intentional, tipping the empathy onto Padraic’s side.
McDonagh assembled a sterling cast for this film, led by Farrell’s potential Oscar-winning portrayal of a character with not a lot of smarts but a lot of emotional openness.
McDonagh’s script and direction makes calculated use of Farrell’s perceptiveness and instincts in a way that only Greek filmmaker Yorgos Lanthimos (The Lobster, Killing of a Sacred Deer) has managed to match.
There are also two stunning supporting performances that are also in the awards conversation, those from Kerry Condon as Siobhan, Padraic’s sensible and firecracker sister, and from Barry Keoghan as the even more simpleton Dominic, the abused son of Inisherin’s loutish cop.
With the McDonagh’s evocative world-building and the delightful lyricism of his dialogue, there’s a rhythm that can be both lulling and jarring at the same time. It’s in that tension where McDonagh and the near-perfect The Banshees of Inisherin thrive.
Rating: 4.5/5
The Banshees of Inisherin is in cinemas from Boxing Day