Of Donkeys and Men: A Review of 'The Banshees of Inisherin'
Many years ago, in what now seems to be almost like a past life, I used to be quite the cinephile. I loved films. I loved the French Nouvelle Vague. I loved Italian neorealismo. I became enamoured of the great auteurs. On many occasions, I would drive to faraway cinemas in the big cities so I could see films—usually foreign or independent ones—that were not going to play in my hometown movie theatres. When I was even younger, I used to eagerly await the the Friday edition of the local newspaper so I could read the movie reviews of the weekend’s new releases. When I reached my college years, I took a few elective courses on film history and production.
Nowadays my burning passion for the silver screen has been reduced to grey, dusty ashes. It is a fate that has befallen many people, I’m sure, and it is a sad indictment of our modern society. If we look at the Hollywood balance sheet for 2022, it’s clear that even the general population has been put off by what’s on offer these days. This is a shame. It’s not right that we should be bereft of the wondrous form of art that is film, that we should be robbed of the joy and the spiritual and intellectual stimulation that well-made stories told on celluloid can give. Therefore it is with great pleasure that I can recommend a contemporary film which I recently saw and was happily surprised to discover that it does indeed give the viewer that gift of joy and stimulation, and entertainment, without being infested with propaganda and pandering to ‘modern audiences’.
The film is The Banshees of Inisherin. This is a film that does not try to appease a broad audience, although it certainly can. It is unabashedly and exclusively Irish. That’s not to say non-Irish folk won’t like or understand the film (well, some accents might indeed be hard to understand), but the film is quite clear that it intends to be a story for Irish folk by Irish folk. I love that. It reminds me of those French and Italian films I devoured in my youth. The Banshees of Inisherin, like those films of old, is set in a distinct place, it tells a distinct story for and by a distinct people. And yet, as is often the case, some of the most particular stories end up having the most universal appeal. The Banshees of Inisherin certainly has proven that again, garnering 9 Oscar nominations as well as a positive audience rating on Rotten Tomatoes.
It opens with some of the most spectacular shots of the wild coast of Ireland. Inisherin is itself a fictional island off the mainland, so what cinematographer Ben Davis and director Martin McDonagh show us in these first moments are actually the sights of the Aran Islands and Achill Island. If the opening sequence of these landscapes, lightly brushed with strokes of an ethereal gilded haze, don’t make you want to catch the next flight to Ireland, you might not have a soul.
The drama begins when Pádraic (pronounced Paw-rick), played by Colin Farrell is devastated after his life-long friend Colm, played by Brendan Gleeson, informs him that their friendship is over. I think I’ve always had a higher opinion of Farrell than most, because I know what Farrell is capable of under the direction of Martin McDonagh. Farrell, an actor blessed with the most expressive and mobile eyebrows, has done some of his best work in the two other McDonagh films in which he starred: In Bruges and Seven Psychopaths. Here he is on fine form again. When Colm informs Pádraic that he no longer wants to be friends, there is a moment in which Farrell gives us a wordless performance that is befitting of a silent film star limited to the use of his facial expressions to convey his character’s turmoil.