The Banshees of Inisherin – 2022 – R
Let’s start with how many fingers are needed to play a violin? Well, somewhere between one and five but definitely more than none. I’ll leave it there and encourage you to check out this odd little film for yourself. In fact, I’ll add the caveat that this “odd little film” could well be a sleeper for an Academy Award.
Set in 1923 on the fictitious island of Inisherin off the coast of Ireland, gritty villagers revolve around a crowded pub, post office and Catholic church, going about their rural business as the IRA and Irish Free Staters battle on the mainland, occasional canon fire and explosions dotting the horizon. Corollary to that civil war is the erupting civil conflict between dairy farmer Pádraic (Colin Farrell) and his longtime best friend and fiddler Colm (Brendan Gleeson) who abruptly cuts Pádraic off, saying without any warning, “I just don’t like ya no more.” From that simple yet puzzling pronouncement, friendships bitterly deteriorate, despair escalates into rage, and rage into revenge leaving us dumbfounded and collectively squirming from our distant shore of time and culture.
Colm is facing a life crisis over his legacy, “Who remembers anyone who’s nice?” No time for the ordinary, he assigns Pádraic to the mundane declaring him “dull” and plunges into composing fiddle pieces, teaching music students and performing with his pub band. Pádraic, like any of us, can’t accept the rejection and keeps challenging Colm for an explanation or better yet, reconciliation. Colm stiffens. Never has a declaration of dull led to such a dark litany of pain with even village pets bearing the unfortunate consequences of human reprisal. Accidental be damned. Apologies futile. Regret meaningless. A friendship meltdown generates the Irish theater of the absurd, seeding the germs of a bitterly rooted forever feud and indeed, the genesis of war, an island fire mirroring mainland bombs. Humanity fault lines are exposed where dull and simple and nice devolve into a mystifying recipe for hatred and violence.
Only Pádraic’s rational and reasonable sister Siobhán escapes the madness, her smile widening as she catches the ferry to a library job on the mainland. The town innocent and simpleton, Dominic, ironically offers the obvious insights, a compelling and cogent narrative on the town lunacy. “Why does he not want to be friends with you no more? What is he, 12?” Abused by his sheriff father, rejected by his unrequited love interest and repulsed by the meanness of his only friend, Dominic is perhaps the most tragic victim in this black comedy followed closely by loyal and loving Jenny, Pádraic’s diminutive donkey. Stunning how quickly and easily the frailty of our human condition morphs into mayhem and barbarity! Stunning and sick. Sick and senseless. Yet, the engaging characters, beautiful setting, comedic interludes and unique storyline weaves together my strong endorsement to seek out The Banshees of Inisherin and settle in for a wickedly dark but deceptively enchanting Irish tale.
Thank you for writing this. I think his sister and friend missed the beauty in friendship in their rush to rarified by painting, music and writing. It was the Collin Farrell character who understood the importance of connection and they left him sans donkey, sans sister, sans friend, sans everything. Made me want to go out and hug a friend.