The Banshees of Inisherin
My brother, Geoff, who enjoys films and has his own thoughtful views on what he watches, explained to me very clearly why he thought this film was rubbish. He could not make sense of the plot; the characters’ reactions seemed out of proportion and unrealistic; and apart from two friends falling out with one another for no properly defined reason, nothing much happened. He understood that the developing feud between the two central characters was being linked to the pounding of guns from the Irish mainland, which represented the ongoing civil war, but so what? If that was the extent of the link, it didn’t really go anywhere.
This seems to me a valid criticism and I think many filmgoers would agree with this judgement. Yet, I didn’t and I’ll try to explain why; but first I’ll outline the film’s events.
The film is set in 1923 on a small island off the west coast of Ireland. At the start of the film, Padraic (Colin Farrell) calls on his friend Colm (Brendan Gleeson) at 2pm, the same time as on every other day, so that they can go for a drink. However, Colm refuses to leave his house and Padraig, mystified and unsettled, has to settle for a solitary pint. As the film progresses, Padraig prods his friend for an explanation and receives answers that are insulting and disorientating. Colm’s reasons for his withdrawal from the friendship range from boredom with his dull friend to a sort of mid-life crisis – his time left is finite and he doesn’t want to waste it on unimportant things and, by implication, unimportant people.
Padraig is cheerful, steady but dull. His bright sister, Siobhan (Kerry Condon), with whom he shares a small cottage knows it and there is some sly humour as she tries to reassure Padraig that he has some substance, whilst never believing it herself. It is clear that the isolated island suits him as does the security and familiarity he finds in the unvarying nature of life there. His needs are simple, and his strongest feelings are for his wee donkey that he is constantly sneaking in the cottage, much to his sister’s annoyance.
Those characters with spirit and verve in the film are all seeking some form of escape or purpose. Eventually Siobhan seeks a teaching post on the mainland and Colm retreats into art spending his days composing music on his fiddle. Even the abused son of the island’s bullying copper, Dominic (Barry Keoghan – brilliantly puckish) is looking for something more and takes drastic action when he sees his possibilities narrowing.
Eventually, Padraig begins to unravel, unable to make sense of Colm’s rejection. He seems to resent the forced introspection that this disruption to his daily rituals imposes. Colm, on the other hand – you’ll understand this lame pun if you see the film – responds with increasingly bloody and drastic gestures to break from Padraig. Eventually their feud comes to a dramatic climax which may or may not resolve matters.
Of course, outlined in that way the story does seem bizarre and the reaction of both men wildly out of proportion for the simple breakdown of a friendship. I could focus instead, therefore, on the pleasures to be gained from the beautifully framed camera shots and lush loveliness of the craggy, bucolic island. Or perhaps I could direct viewers to the perfect balance of black humour that writer and director, Martin McDonagh, achieves with the dialogue. Both elements are integral to my enjoyment of this film and yet it is the focus on the intensity of the feelings that grip Padraig and Colm as their relationship crumbles which has stuck with me. I am sure that being set in 1923 whilst the Irish Civil War is raging is obviously significant. However, the opaque and ambivalent tone of the story forced me to reflect existentially – how does someone give purpose and meaning to life through the daily experiences one has, the relationship one forms? That may, of course, be pretentious guff on my part and this strange film a case of the king’s new clothes. Nevertheless, I thought the film had a strange, unbalancing effect: the almost twee, whimsical nature of the setting was at odds with the tragic grandeur of the feelings.
Unlike Padraig and Colm, Geoff and I won’t quarrel about our responses, after all that’s what makes life so interesting; we’ll just agree to differ.