The Banshees of Inisherin

Director: Martin McDonagh
Starring: Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson, Kerry Condon, Barry Keoghan, Gary Lydon, Pat Shortt, Sheila Flitton, Bríd Ní Neachtain, Jon Kenny
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: R 

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Put simply, Martin McDonagh's The Banshees of Inisherin charts the sudden disintegration of an adult male friendship. It's a fairly straightforward premise, if not for the fact that this topic is rarely explored on film to the extent it is here. Initially resembling what could be mistaken as a comedic feud between lifelong buddies, it takes a turn into darker territory, as its era and fictional remote island setting become a key component in understanding where they're each coming from. You feel for the protagonist, a kind, likably dim man who wakes up one morning to discover his world's been turned upside down. But the same could also be said for his new enemy, who's struggling with some kind of existential crisis. What exactly this crisis entails hardly matters since the relentless pursuit of an answer only causes more trouble and hurt than either can handle.

There's something so bracingly honest and relatable about how McDonagh presents this, fully acknowledging the isle's inhabitants lead what appear to be dull lives, characterized by routines that do provide a certain amount of joy and relief in the face of a war reaching its end. For one of them, the shattering of their routine will prove catastrophic, while another searches for meaning that may not exist. It's anyone's right to end a friendship and certainly frustrating when the rejected party won't take a hint, but what eventually happens in the film suggests far deeper issues are at play. But it isn't until one of them goes off the deep end that you start considering what this was really all about.

It's 1921 with the Irish Civil War nearing its close when on the isle of Inisherin the amiable Pádraic Súilleabháin (Farrell) plans to meet his best friend and drinking buddy Colm Doherty (Gleeson) at the pub, as he does each day at 2 pm. But after being stood up and Pádraic discovers him sitting alone in his cottage, Colm tells Pádraic he's sick of him, wishing to instead spend his remaining days composing and playing music rather than listen to his pal's incessant chatter and complaining. 

Despite Colm's firm insistence they go their separate ways, a disbelieving Pádraic grows increasingly agitated by his friend's devastating rejection. Even as Pádraic's sister Siobhán (Kerry Condon) and troubled local boy Dominic (Barry Keoghan) try to smooth things over, the feud escalates to alarming levels, with Colm taking drastic steps to ensure his ex-friend stays away. And when that doesn't work, the situation gets uglier and more personal, resulting in life altering consequences for all involved.

McDonagh's script is rich enough in detail and the performances so lived in that it's easy to imagine how things were between the former friends before this started. We also know as little about Colm's state of mind as Pádraic does. To some extent, Colm isn't completely sure either, only expressing frustration that his life's whittling away while he drinks at the pub and listens to his friend babble on about nothing. 

If Colm's solution is to cut Pádraic out so he can focus on his music, neither go as planned due to him underestimating his friend's emotional pain. You can see both sides, as Colm takes a variety of approaches to let this man down easy and spare his feelings after ignoring him fails. Still, Pádraic refuses to get the message, doubling down in his efforts to somehow change Colm's mind. One's unshakably stubborn while the other's sort of endearingly annoying, even as neither can quite come to terms with their own shortcomings, preferring to deflect blame rather than take a look in the mirror.

Gleeson plays Colm with solemn, matter-of-fact directness while Farrell's innocently naive loyalty and confusion wins you over in spite of the character's obvious faults. Condon does sublime work as Siobhán, who clearly loves her brother, but knows he won't give in, trying anything to keep the peace before both men pass the point of no return. The only stabilizing force left in Pádraic's life aside from his donkey Jenny, she's about to reach the end of her rope. As the wacky, troubled town youth Dominic, Keoghan provides much of the film's comic relief opposite Farrell, until the scene-stealing performance reveals the character as someone more troubled than his goofy prankster facade lets on.

McDonagh balances a lot, managing to invoke a lot of laughs from a screenplay drenched in tragedy, as the two main characters discover much of what happened didn't need to. Farrell and Gleeson (re-teaming for the first time since the director's 2008 debut feature In Bruges) are seamless together, each giving career high performances as friends with so little experience being mean that their attempts result in disaster.

There comes a point when Colm takes a series of actions that aren't just crazy and selfish, but fly in the face of what he claims to be doing this for. It's not about Pádraic so much as what his presence and carefree attitude represents for man who feels trapped, his dreams and goals slipping away by the day. But rather than provide relief, cutting ties with his best friend creates new problems that bring him no closer to solving the existing one. 

It's a testament to Farrell and Gleeson that you still sense a small amount of affection and camaraderie left between them even after the worst has seemingly occurred. There's even a tinge of regret in a last act that's surprisingly difficult to watch, as they clumsily lose control of their worst impulses. Where this goes after the credits roll is anyone's guess, but if the fitting final scene implies some kind of impasse has been reached, it's a tiny one, arriving entirely too late. As it turns out, these former friends were far more skilled at destroying themselves than each other.