The Banshees of Inisherin, or is friendship real and will we all die alone
The Banshees of Inisherin, Martin McDonagh's best film to date, is a stunning portrayal of loneliness, legacy, and isolation. Crippled by both self-doubt and ideas of grandiosity, Brandan Gleason’s Colm Doherty unceremoniously dumps his best friend Pádraic (Colin Farrell getting that Oscar nom). Pádraic is “dull,” and only interesting when he’s drunk, and as Colm reaches the twilight of his life, he has no time to waste on dull people; instead, he needs to focus on his legacy and his art. A heartbroken Colm (with big sad Colin Farrell eyes) goes from confused and heartbroken to desperate and vengeful. Meanwhile, Colm grows increasingly stubborn and self-important, putting his legacy above even his own safety in his desperate attempt at self-isolation.
The stellar cast is rounded out by Kerry Condon, as Pádraic’s sister, trying to mend the rift whilst maintaining her own sanity, and rising star Barry Keoghan who is dealing with a different brand of isolation.
Ultimately, The Banshees Of Inisherin tells the story of a group of incredibly lonely people, too broken and obtuse to bond over their isolation. At times, it’s genuinely hilarious; the black comedy and the beautiful landscapes of Ireland are as breathtakingly beautiful as they are claustrophobic.
I’ve never been an Irish farmer living in Civil War Era Ireland, but it’s easy to empathise with everyone on screen; in fact, this is the first film I recall that so accurately captures the unique heartbreak of a friendship breakup.
“I just don’t like you no more,” said Colm near the start of the film; it’s a blunt answer, but what are you supposed to do with that information? I’ve never been told anything quite so brutally, but the sentiment has certainly been conveyed. Pádraic is too dumb, boring and simple, I’m too loud, shrill and critical. Everyone has those characteristics that, one day, someone is suddenly going to hate; every relationship you have is hanging on a thread, as you sit and hope that they won’t realise that they don’t like you anymore.
“I do worry sometimes I might just be entertaining myself while staving off the inevitable.”
On the other hand, I’ve looked around at my life, my choices, and my company and thought what the feck am I doing right now? Colm has an artistic temperament with none of the legacy to match; he is stuck on a small island with nothing to show of his life, so he takes it out on the easiest target – the simple yet disposable best friend. He is so desperate for validation from future strangers, that he’s pushing away the one person whose validation he guaranteed. His art is ultimately overshadowed by the fires he’s created to protect it.
A few characters suggest that Colm is suffering from depression; in the depth of my depression, it’s been easy for me to push away people and come up with any excuse to do so. They don’t understand me, we’re on different wavelengths, we were never friends to begin with, I never even liked them to begin with; it’s easy to lie to yourself to push yourself further into isolation and misery.
Martin McDonagh has created a masterpiece, and a keenly astute observation on depression, art, loneliness and grief. As the film progresses, the jokes gradually become darker and sadder, the vast open Irish landscape becomes claustrophobic, and the air is filled with a suffocating sense of dread. You are alone, friendships are fragile, and your legacy is nothing.
It was genuinely a funny film though! Ignore my existentialism.