A version of this story about Martin McDonagh and “The Banshees of Inisherin” first appeared in the Even the cable problem from TheWrap Awards Magazine.
Seventeen years after winning an Oscar with “Six Shooter,” an exciting and moving short starring Brendan Gleeson, and 14 years after making his feature directorial debut with “In Bruges,” British-Irish playwright-turned-filmmaker Martin McDonagh now has his most successful movie. award film. “The Banshees of Inisherin,” a black comedy reuniting the “In Bruges” team of Gleeson and Colin Farrell, won four BAFTAs at the British Academy Film Awards, as well as taking home the Golden Globe for Musical or Comedy. about the Academy Award favorite. “Everything everywhere, all at once.” He also received nine Oscar nominations, two more than McDonagh’s previous high of seven for 2017’s “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri.”
In “Banshees”, Farrell plays Pádraic Súilleabháin, a sweet-natured if slightly dull islander whose daily pub go with his old friend Colm Doherty (Gleeson) is cut short when Colm announces that Pádraic is boring and doesn’t want to be friends with him. further. As anyone who has seen much of McDonagh’s work would expect, things escalate from there to a very dark place.
Playwright-turned-filmmaker McDonagh spoke to TheWrap about ditching an earlier version of the film, embracing melancholy, and moving his career away from the stage from now on.
Years ago, you wrote two plays, “The Cripple of Inishmaan” and “The Lieutenant of Inishmore”, which were supposed to be the first two parts of a trilogy set on the Aran Islands in Galway Bay. And then he wrote a third play called “The Banshees of Inisheer”, which was the name of the third Aran Island, but the play was never produced. Is there a connection between that unproduced play and this movie?
No. Other than the title, nothing else survives of that work. I was so disgusted with it that it wasn’t even finished at the time. But I wanted to keep a variation on that title and finish the Aran Islands trilogy. I like the idea of three works on three islands.
But you changed the name of the island from perfecthis real name, inisherín.
Yes, exactly. Once we started scouting locations, I knew it wasn’t going to be filming in Inisheer. And once we made that change, I found two very different islands (Inishmore and Achill Island) that were nothing like Inisheer. And for my own peace of mind, I couldn’t call it Inisheer anymore. That gave us a bit more freedom as to where exactly it was on the west coast (of Ireland) in terms of the logistics of the Civil War as a backdrop, and even accents and that sort of thing.
So what was it about the title that made you want to hold on to it?
I guess there’s something slightly mysterious or spooky about it. But also, I like the sh sound in souls in pain and the sh in inisherin. (laughs.) Sometimes it can be something as simple as that that you hold on to.
This was always designed for Colin and Brendan, wasn’t it?
Yes. The original iteration of the script was about seven years ago. I sent that version to both boys and I remember Colin liking it, but Brendan had trouble with it. And then I had problems with that, too. So I scrapped it completely and didn’t think about it until about three years ago when I reread it and thought the first five minutes were pretty good. It’s basically the same five minutes as in our movie now, which is basically a guy saying that he doesn’t want to be friends with the other guy anymore. I got rid of all the plot that the previous version had and focused entirely on the melancholy of the breaking bits, and I thought it was much more interesting. And then the whole art vs. kindness debate came up, and I moved on.
Colin and Brendan responded to the new version immediately?
I sent it on a Friday, maybe, and I think by Monday they were basically done. I think even halfway through I emailed them saying, “Guys, this is going to be the one.”
Would there have been a world where this was done with different actors?
No. If they had said no, or if they had cost too much, I definitely wouldn’t have done it. Part of the writing was the knowledge of getting back together with these two guys after having such a great time in in bruges. So I definitely would have waited until they were ready.
The film transitions from the story of a breakup between friends to something darker and weirder when Colm says, “If you don’t stop talking to me, I’m going to cut my fingers off.” How did you realize that in writing?
That appeared in the exact same scene that it appears in the movie. He was writing the scene, and he didn’t know he was going to do that until he made that threat. Which was a big surprise to me (laughs) as it might have been for you. But I liked the idea for a couple of reasons. I don’t think her character is someone who would threaten another person to cut her off. his fingers. I think there’s something about his artistic inclination or his desperation that will always be self-destructive. As a character, that’s very interesting to me. The hope is that the threat works and she doesn’t have to talk to the guy again. And things could still have been fine after the first finger. Like, he plays pretty good with four. But that damn Pádraic just won’t listen, you know?
As soon as it came up, I thought, it’s a dramatic and intriguing move that I hadn’t necessarily seen before. He’s not a threat to the other person, he’s a threat to himself, which surely should make sense to that person. But not with Colin’s character. (laughs.) Which is also fun. I mean, at the same time that I was thinking, Oh, that’s going to be dramatic, I was also thinking, Oh, there’s room for humor in it, too.
Speaking of humor, when “Banshees” won the Golden Globe for Best Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy, all of a sudden there was a rush of people saying, “But it’s not a comedy, some guy cut his fingers!” .
It is funny. Yes, it is always interesting. I wouldn’t necessarily say “Three Billboards” was a comedy either, but I guess that’s the Globes way. I honestly think people will figure out what you think it is. But you have more chances to win (laugh) if divided between drama and comedy.
I remember seeing “The Lieutenant of Inishmore” on stage in Los Angeles. All kinds of horrible things happen in that one, but you can’t help but laugh. And to be part of an audience laughing at something they know they shouldn’t be laughing at is a great experience.
I think it’s the best kind of laugh. It’s always interesting when a movie goes from sadness to comedy. And even though things get pretty dark from the middle of this, there’s still quite a few laughs along the way. I’m not really a filmmaker who wants to dwell too much on negativity or desolation, but I do like to explore the sadness of a story like this or the melancholy or despair of life. I like the idea of having a little touch of despair and a couple of laughs at the same time.
Despite some seriously deranged things happening in the second half, this movie feels lyrical and melancholy in a way your other movies probably don’t.
I think the tone of the story lent itself much more to that. What I liked the most about, for example, “In Bruges” or even “Three Billboards”, have been those little moments of sadness. And I think the idea of extending that sadness and melancholy was something that I really wanted to explore. And I like that so much that I think that’s what I hope to do in the next one or two.
Are you doing what Colm’s character does in the movie, thinking about what you want to do with your art in the days you have left?
Well, it was all written in the time of COVID, and I guess those are questions we all start to think about a bit. If we get past this, are we going to change the way we spend our time? That’s a question I always ask myself: I only make one movie every four or five years. Am I wasting time by not doing this every day? I remember thinking during COVID, “If you get a chance to do this again, are you going to be that lazy in the future?” (laughs) And now I realize that the answer is yes.
The only difference is that I always thought I would alternate between plays and movies. These days, I’m much more interested in a film’s lasting imprint. You know, I did a play with Kerry Condon 21 years ago, and she was amazing in it, but nobody gets to watch that anymore. But anyone can see her brilliant work in (“Banshees”) for as long as the movies run. It saddens me that people aren’t able to see how brilliant he was on stage, and that’s slowly making me change my mind to focus almost exclusively on movies.
I’ll never say “never again” with plays, but I feel like if time is running out, something that lasts is what you have to focus on.
Read more of the Down to the Wire issue here.
