Last week, Martin McDonagh's new film 'The Banshees of Inisherin' became available digitally. The director's fourth film brought two awards from Venice: Best Screenplay and Best Actor, and also garnered excellent press. Obviously, the Oscars will not...

Martin McDonagh has only directed five films in his career — four feature-length (including this one) and one short. Since 2007, his films have come out every five years, but audiences eagerly await them because the director has had no objective missteps, and hopefully never will. The Banshees of Inisherin was justifiably praised by critics at its Venice premiere. Two hours of profane quarrels on a small island fly by thanks to McDonagh's mastery of dialogue and screenwriting in general, but let's take it one step at a time.

What's the Plot?

The Banshees of Inisherin begins on an ordinary April Fools' Day in 1923, when farmer Pádraic (Colin Farrell), on his way to the pub, stops by as usual for his best friend, musician Colm (Brendan Gleeson). But Colm doesn't open the door and doesn't go anywhere, remaining seated in his chair, smoking. A bewildered Pádraic returns home to the surprise of his sister Siobhán (Kerry Condon). He doesn't understand what happened, so he decides to go have a drink alone. The pub owner, Jonjo (Pat Shortt), is surprised to see the regular and asks why he's alone today — did something happen?

Eventually, it turns out that Colm simply decided to stop talking to his friend because he finds him too dull and ordinary. For Colm, all conversations with Pádraic are a pointless waste of precious time, of which there isn't much left. As a creator, he wants to leave behind a legacy that more than one generation will remember, and idle chatter prevents him from concentrating on composing new music.

Farrell's character is not okay with the abrupt end of the friendship, so he keeps making unsuccessful attempts to communicate with his friend, attributing his behavior first to an April Fools' joke, then to depression. However, Colm is very serious, so to fend off the clingy companion, the musician promises to cut off his own finger with scissors every time Pádraic tries to talk to him next.

Laying Low in Ireland

The Banshees of Inisherin is the first film for the British-Irish director to be shot and set in Ireland. It is based on an unpublished play by McDonagh himself, which was supposed to be the finale of a trilogy about the Aran Islands (Inishmore, Inishmaan, and Inisheer). The first two saw the light of day in 1996 (The Cripple of Inishmaan) and 2001 (The Lieutenant of Inishmore), while the finale, titled The Banshee of Inisheer, never came out. 

Twenty years later, the real island of Inisheer was transformed into the fictional Inisherin in the script, but the Banshees remained in place. It's unclear how much of the original text the playwright kept in the film, but it doesn't matter. The film turned out magnificent. Fifteen years after In Bruges, the Farrell-Gleeson duo reunited under McDonagh's direction. These two make you laugh without even resorting to jokes. The brilliantly written dialogue and superb acting do the job themselves.

The charismatic and thoughtful Gleeson commands attention the moment he appears on screen. Farrell, with his facial expressions and eyebrows that have a life of their own, is a knockout. And to complement their duo, McDonagh has given audiences a young talent in the form of Barry Keoghan. Over the past couple of years, Keoghan has become a star, appearing in Eternals and The Green Knight, but the biggest news was his casting as the Joker in Matt Reeves' Batman universe. 

In McDonagh's film, the talented actor plays a young man named Dominic, who is brutally beaten by his policeman father, Peadar (Gary Lydon). His character is considered the dumbest on the island, yet he evokes the most sympathy from the audience. Dominic's feelings are the purest, most sincere, and most understandable: fear of his father, hopeless love, and resignation to the inevitable. Barry Keoghan is simply irresistible, and his believable portrayal on screen evokes genuine admiration and empathy for the character. 

And in truth, he's not as stupid as those around him think, because it's Dominic who asks the logical and obvious question about Colm's decision to end his friendship with Pádraic: "Is he twelve?" Indeed, how absurd such behavior seems from an adult man. Can you just stop being friends like that? It seems only a child could act that way. Many know you can fall out of love, but fall out of friendship with someone? Such cases are hardly common in real life.

Clouded the Mind, Killed the Musician

The first half of the film looks like pure absurdist comedy, until The Banshees of Inisherin is almost entirely consumed by philosophical reflections, drama, and Irish gloom. There's less and less humor, and more and more tragedy. The events set in motion by Colm's decision to "unfriend" foreshadow death in the final act. And, according to the Banshee's prophecy (here a rather grim old woman who sends chills even through the screen), not just one. 

One decision set off a fateful chain reaction that stirred up life on the entire island. A series of events rapidly unfolds, leading the characters to a point of no return. Now that's something for the gossips at the local grocery store, Mrs. O'Riordan, to discuss. Truly newsworthy, unlike the news coming from the "mainland," where the civil war is winding down. Indeed, who cares about that "distant" skirmish, where it's unclear who is fighting for what? Much better are the tidings of a new death from a stabbing or suicide. That's what's worth discussing locally, not those military reports you can't make heads or tails of. 

It's amazing how Martin McDonagh placed his characters on an island, thereby creating a confined space in an open setting. Explosions and gunfire are often heard from the mainland, but Inisherin seems untouched by it. Life here is monotonous and boring, and someone's departure easily becomes the main event. Consumed by this routine and melancholy, Colm decides that his friendship with Pádraic is preventing him from leaving a musical legacy. Confident that he can stand alongside Mozart (though he doesn't even know what century the great composer lived in), the fiddler begins working on his creation. Incidentally, Gleeson can actually play the violin, and the melody his character works on was composed by the actor himself.

In The Banshees of Inisherin, the director touches on the theme of the price of creativity. History knows many cases where a creator dedicates their life to creating their works, letting life take its course. Family and love take a back seat. Sometimes even appearance, sleep, and eating don't interest the creative individual. Here, Colm sacrifices his friendship with his only close person. In part, you can understand him. He wants peace and tranquility. Who among us hasn't wanted, at least once, to be alone with their thoughts, undisturbed? So the elderly fiddler decided to give up engaging two-hour conversations about livestock manure to spend time alone.

But the complexity of the conflict is that the viewer can easily understand Pádraic too. Imagine: on the most ordinary day, your best friend, for no apparent reason, tells you they no longer intend to talk to you. Plus, they promise to cut off their own fingers. How would you react? You'd hardly just stop communicating without questions. At the very least, you'd want to know the reason for such behavior. And because Farrell's character is a naive, kind fool, he simply can't figure out how a friend who was so friendly yesterday can be so cold today? Maybe he just needs to try a new approach? Or try to correct his mistakes, but which ones?

However, Pádraic made no mistakes. And a new approach won't help either. The fact is that his happiness lies in a boring everyday life. For his peace of mind, it's enough that his sister is nearby, his pets are fed and cared for, and his best friend can listen and share a couple of pints of beer with him. 

But Colm is tired of such a life and is sure he is capable of something greater. Of composing music. He and his friend think and look at life differently. In the end, the fiddler creates a song far from great but important to him, titled The Banshees of Inisherin, and is immensely proud of himself. Unfortunately, the "price" for the melody will have to be paid not only by the composer but also by those around him. The piece won't find recognition even among the locals, including Pádraic. There will be no legacy. But life on Inisherin will change due to the outbreak of a local civil war. 

What's the Verdict?

Within the framework of such a simple conflict, The Banshees of Inisherin exists throughout its entire runtime. The characters swear, argue, and drink beer against the backdrop of incredibly beautiful landscapes, highlighted by the director with wide shots abundant in green and gray. Though Martin McDonagh sometimes overdoes the glossy picture's pathos, as if it were meant to be a phone wallpaper, otherwise the film completely absorbs the viewer. A sad story about two friends sorting out their relationship on a remote island in the backwoods of the world, while nearby, yet so far away, war rages — this is the best end to a year rich in news that is hard to make sense of and that no one will want to discuss in Mrs. O'Riordan's shop.