The Banshees of Inisherin: An Elegy to Friendship
There are times when life shatters all sense. The fracturing of a friendship. The death of someone young. A civil war. Lulled by a pretense of control, we assume that order is inherent to existence, that what we’ve experienced every other day will hold true for tomorrow. But that is a fragile, foolish hope.
Martin McDonagh’s latest film, The Banshees of Inisherin, takes place right at the point of that existential shattering and remains there, straining against the fracture. It’s a mournful, ruminative film. It’s also the best film of McDonagh’s career.
McDonagh’s work is familiar for its sharp violence and cynical bite. In Bruges was a runaway success, starring Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson as hit men waiting in purgatorial Belgium after a botched assignment. That film, along with Seven Psychopaths and Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, sparked equal parts applause, exhaustion, and controversy. McDonagh’s never been afraid to delve into the bitter pits of humanity—our violence, our vulgarity, our hatred of others. The question has always been whether McDonagh enjoys those parts too much.
In the past, his films have landed on the wrong side of that evaluation for me. His movies always bear some true notes and ingenious character depth, but they’re kept from greatness by his fixation on the crass and cruel. There’s still a caustic wave that occasionally crests in The Banshees of Inisherin, but McDonagh has mellowed it by focusing instead on the sadness of Inisherin’s locals. It makes for a much better film, one that will last because it moves, not because it shocks.
Banshees reunites McDonagh with Farrell and Gleeson, two friends whose friendship is suddenly destroyed. It’s a small shockwave at first, triggered when Colm (Gleeson) simply doesn’t arrive at the pub one afternoon for their daily drink. When Pádraic (Farrell)—one of life’s “good guys”—presses Colm to explain why, Colm tells him that he no longer wants to be friends. Pádraic fears he said something to offend, but Colm reassures him that no harm has been done. It’s Colm’s decision and nothing beyond that. Pádraic doesn’t get a clear answer, but he does get a threat: If he continues to try and talk with Colm, then Colm will cut off one of his own fingers.
It’s an existential crisis on a miniature scale. Pádraic’s hurt is deeply felt, and the insult of confusion is added to the injury. For his part, not even Colm seems fully convinced of his reasoning. On one hand, he claims that he needs to devote his time to composing and playing music—a purpose which isn’t exactly aided by mutilating his fingers. But on the other, it seems an unreasonable leap if all he wants is some solitude. As Pádraic proclaims, “You’ve loads of options left open!”
Others close to Pádraic and Colm seem equally confused. Kerry Condon gives the strongest supporting performance of 2022 as Pádraic’s sister, Siobhán, a woman worn thin by the insular life on the island and the oblivious men around her. Condon brings a boldness to her character that shows itself in both tenderness and exasperation. She wants a better life than what’s on offer, but she still cares for Pádraic’s wellbeing.
Barry Keoghan is also excellent as Dominic, the dim son of an abusive local policeman. It would be a stunning performance, if not for the continual run of remarkable turns in Keoghan’s career. It would be easy (especially with McDonagh’s track record) for Dominic to be a crude amalgamation of errant clichés, but Keoghan imbues the character with dignity and an agency that’s too often overlooked by those around him.
McDonagh’s script is consistently sharp and layered, taking care to balance humor and depth in equal measure. We both laugh at and sigh for the characters, often simultaneously, which is an accomplishment for any screenplay. The dialogue is brought to life impeccably by Farrell, Gleeson, Condon, and Keoghan in what is, likely, the best ensemble cast of the year. It’s truly hard to isolate any performance from the rapid parries of compassion and insult. Rather, they all are remarkable, but shine most clearly in conversation.
That’s fitting for a film so focused on friendship and its lack. Banshees explores many questions—Is art more valuable than friendship? Where’s the demarcation between idle chatter and “good, normal conversation?” Is it better to be nice or to leave a legacy? Where does friendship fit within life’s purposes?—but it smartly avoids providing clear answers. The audience is inclined to feel empathy toward Pádraic as they wonder what drove Colm to this decision. But McDonagh doesn’t reward them for that empathy. The motive is Colm’s and remains Colm’s alone. Just because understanding is withheld from Pádraic (and the audience) doesn’t necessitate that he’s right.
Banshees forces us to confront not only the meaning of friendship, but also the meaning of time. What matters most for us? We don’t have to be satisfied with Colm’s answer, but we do have to consider it. The ways we choose to spend our time, and who with, says more than we typically realize about our dreams and desires. In this age of autonomy and atomization, no one is going to stop us from spending our time foolishly. As Colm finishes his song about the island’s banshees, he ponders that they no longer wail, “they just sit back” and watch us go about our daily tragedies.
Banshees. Among all else the many things they point toward, at a basic level in McDonagh’s film, they represent the idea that some being external to the actions of man is watching. Judging. Throughout the movie, the faces of animals drive a sharp thematic wedge against the callous and selfish actions of Inisherin’s characters. In a similar vein, McDonagh laces the movie with images of rainbows and crosses. Do these symbols indicate that there is some remnant hope in God, in nature? Or is there none to be found, despite our signs?
The Banshees of Inisherin is one of the 2022’s best films: a bitingly funny and elegiac consideration of a friendship. Despite earlier ambivalence to Martin McDonagh’s work, this is one I wholeheartedly recommend you seek out.
As the characters themselves say, “That’d be the best thing.”
