Martin McDonagh

THE BANSHEES OF INISHERIN: a contest of absurd stubbornness

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Photo caption: Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson in THE BANSHEES OF INISHERIN. Courtesy of Searchlight Pictures.

The Banshees of Inisherin is set in 1923 on a fictional Irish island literally detached from the mainland and its Irish Civil War. Pádraic (Colin Farrell), who raises some livestock, and Colm (Brendan Gleeson), a fiddler, are lifelong buddies. There’s not much to do on the island, other than look forward to meeting up at the local pub. So, Pádraic is shocked when Colm announces that he no longer wishes to chat with Pádraic at the pub. Colm is facing his own mortality and reckons that shooting the breeze with Pádraic is taking away valuable focus from composing Irish music, Colm’s only chance at an immortal legacy. Unlike Colm, Pádraic is not a man of ideas, and Pádraic is hurt and baffled.

Colm is polite but very firm and clear about his request to be left alone. But Pádraic desperately needs human connection, and he cannot leave Colm alone. Colm throws down an ultimatum, and Pádraic, to the dismay of the other islanders, blunders right through the stop sign. Actions escalate, and the two men become mired in a contest of absurd stubbornness.

One thing is for sure, I will always remember this movie when I hear a thunk on my window or door (not a knock, but a THUNK).

As serious as are the consequences of the men’s squabble, Irish wit abounds, and The Banshees of Inisherin is a funny movie. It may contain the funniest confession booth scene in the history of cinema.

The Banshees of Inisherin is written and directed by Martin McDonagh, whose Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Minnesota won two Oscars. Banshees reunites McDonagh, Gleeson and Farrell fourteen years after their In Bruges, a masterpiece of comic neo-noir that I just rewatched last week (to my renewed delight).

This is an acting showcase for the considerable acting talents of Gleeson and Farrell. Gleeson, whose Colm is ever polite but even more resolute, has an amazing body of work: Into the West, Braveheart, The General, Gangs of New York, The Guard, Albert Nobbs, The Grand Seduction, Calvary, The Tragedy of Macbeth and a few Harry Potter movies.

Farrell has demonstrated that seeks out auteur directors; he’s worked with Steven Spielberg (Minority Report), Joel Schumacher (Phone Booth, Valerie Guerin), Yorgos Lanthimos (Lobster, The Killing of a Sacred Deer), Terrence Malick (The New World), Sofia Coppola (The Beguiled) and Kogonada (After Yang). Farrell’s Pádraic takes dim affability to an unmatched level of self-destructive obnoxiousness.

Kerry Condon and Barry Keoghan in THE BANSHEES OF INISHERIN. Courtesy of Searchlight Pictures.

But the best two performances in this exceptionally well-acted film are those by Kerry Condon as Pádraic’s sister Siobhan and by Barry Keoghan as the intellectually challenged young islander Dominic. Condon’s longsuffering Siobhan is bright and spirited – and the only islander with a lick of common sense. The longer the two men’s struggle progresses, the more the movie becomes Siobhan’s as she tries to mitigate their madness and at least protect herself from it. Condon is the youngest actor to play Ophelia for the Royal Shakespeare Company and has amassed a considerable body of work in episodic television: Rome, Ray Donovan, Better Call Saul.

Keoghan is always a splashy actor and he has a lot of fun with the unpredictable and irritating Dominic. His lakeside scene with Condon is heartbreaking.

There’s been plenty of Oscar buzz for Gleeson, Farrell and Keoghan – and there should be for should be for Condon.

Now how good a movie is this? The humor and gripping story kept me wanting to see the pages turned, the acting is magnificent and the cinematography is beautiful. But what is McDonagh trying to say, if anything? Is this some kind of a parable, or just a portrait of two individuals’ stubbornness? I’m really not sure, but it’s a good thing that The Banshees of Inisherin made me care about the answer.

THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI: raw emotion and dark hilarity

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Frances McDormand in THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI

In Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, a powerful combination of raw emotions and dark hilarity, Frances McDormand plays Mildred, a small town woman consumed by the unsolved murder of her daughter.  Mildred doesn’t have the power to solve the murder herself, but she has the power to make everyone else uncomfortable until she finds justice and closure.  She buys billboards that personalize the stalled murder investigation, laying the blame on the popular town sheriff (Woody Harrelson).  She intends to rile people up, and, boy, does she succeed.

There are consequences, both intended and unintended.  In addition to the murder mystery, there are two new whodunits related to the billboards and some violent outbursts by two of the characters.  There’s a heartbreaking letter, and two more utterly unexpected letters.

The murder of one’s child is shattering enough, but Mildred also piles guilt on herself.  The murder has enraged the entire family, including Mildred’s son (Lucas Hedges of Manchester By the Sea) and her ex-husband (John Hawkes).  All three express their rage in different ways.  This is a showcase role for McDormand.

Woody Harrelson and Sam Rockwell in THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI

This might be Woody Harrelson’s best performance.  His sheriff is an island of common sense, decency and levelheadedness in a turbulent sea of upset and idiocy.  The character of the sheriff is a remarkably fine father and husband in ways that are fun and interesting to watch.   The sheriff is facing his own mortality, and his feelings are hurt unjustly, but we only see glimpses of the pain in Harrelson’s eyes.  This is a performance that would have been in the wheelhouse for Jimmy Stewart, Henry Fonda and Gregory Peck, and Harrelson nails it.

Sam Rockwell plays Dixon, one of the sheriff’s deputies.  Dixon is an unfortunate muddle of bad instincts, no impulse control, stupidity, racism and rage.   Then he gets an unexpected opportunity for redemption…

Sandy Martin also sparkles as Dixon’s Momma.  It’s a very small part, but Martin practically steals the movie  with her white trash Svengali. Martin’s 128 screen credits include roles in Transparent, Big Love and as Grandma in Napoleon Dynamite (she’s the one who says Knock it off, Napoleon! Just make yourself a dang quesa-dilluh).

Samara Weaving is really perfect as the inappropriately-young-girlfriend-on-the-rebound of Mildred’s ex.  Weaving is drop dead beautiful with a remarkable sense of comic timing and a mastery of deadpan.  Fully invested in her character’s goodhearteredness and  airheadedness, she reminds me of Margot Robbie and Elizabeth Banks as a comic actor.

Peter Dinklage plays a character that provides comic relief and one important plot point, and he brings an unexpected and profound feeling to the part.

Here’s one thing that is uncommonly great about Three Billboards:  the story would have worked with characters of far less dimension, but the roles written by Martin McDonagh and performed by the cast elevates Three Billboards.  Mildred could have been only a shrew, the sheriff could have been only a cardboard foil and Dixon could have been only a buffoon.  Instead McDormand, Rockwell and Rochwell add layers of complexity to their characters, and Hawkes, Martin, Weaver and Dinklage each contribute more to the mix.

Three Billboards is brilliantly written by director Martin McDonagh.  McDonagh’s 2008 In Bruges was either the funniest hit man movie ever or the darkest and most violent buddy comedy ever.  Three Billboards shares the same dark/funny flavor.   Three Billboards also has a really fine soundtrack with a couple of spaghetti western-inspired cues.

The emotion in Three Billboards is genuine and deeply felt.  There are some especially grim moments, peppered with lots of laughs.   As I ponder this film, I keep coming back to the characters, the performances and the surprises in the story. Three Billboards in Ebbing, Missouri was an audience favorite on the festival circuit and is a Must See in theaters now.

Seven Psychopaths: just not the sum of its parts

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Upon leaving the theater, The Wife asked the revelatory question: “How come it wasn’t as good as its parts?”.  True, Seven Psychopaths is well-acted by a very deep team of my favorite actors and is embedded with belly laughs, but, as a whole, it’s just not that satisfying.

Colin Farrell plays an alcoholic writer struggling to get past the title of his new screenplay. He expertly plays the straight man against an assortment of raging oddballs.  Sam Rockwell is brilliant as the writer’s not-a-good-influence friend who, underneath a shiftless exterior, is profoundly psychopathic. Christopher Walken hits another home run as a dignified eccentric. And Woody Harrelson plays a pedal-to-the-metal raging psycho crime boss as only he can.

The supporting cast includes the immortal Harry Dean Stanton, Abbie Cornish, Gabourey Sidibe (Precious), Michael Pitt (The Dreamers, Boardwalk Empire), Michael Stuhlbarg (A Serious Man), Olga Kuylenko and the always reliable Zeljko Ivanek.   The best performances are by Tom Waits (as a bunny-petting retired serial killer) and Linda Bright Clay (as Walken’s tough-as-nails wife).

But the story isn’t tight enough.  Writer-director Martin McDonagh (In Bruges) (who doesn’t admire Quentin Tarantino) here only delivers Tarantino Lite.  Instead, I recommend McDonagh’s brilliant In Bruges (and The Guard which McDonagh produced).  For those who like dark, dark comedy with lots of violence, Seven Psychopaths is entertaining.  For everyone else, nothing special.