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mfunk9786 wrote: Thu Oct 20, 2022 12:41 pm Weird, I didn't mention Tarantino at all. Seems odd to bring him up.

Now that you mention it; yes, Ingmar Bergman is pretentious as fuck.

mfunk9786 wrote: Thu Oct 20, 2022 3:04 amThis is the best film that I've seen since Inside Llewyn Davis nine years ago

I didn't like this nearly as much as you did, but it's interesting that these are your two favorite films to bookend a decade of time*, since I was often reminded of Inside Llewyn Davis while watching McDonagh's film. They share similar existential concerns: a formidable presence of fate's shadow eclipsing choice, the affect and accumulated weight of stagnancy on mood, and other introspective meditations on how our corporeal inertia inhibits our ability to access something spiritual, which can only end in cynicism. Where this film arguably differs -or at least heightens- is in its focus upon the irreversibility of sobriety to these pathos once uncovered. The uncomfortable state of being in-between things, perpetually disturbed, whether by the self's inability to transcend our limitations or the social need for camaraderie compounded with the inherent irritation in sharing time with another person, a vehicle different from 'you' that forces a constructed responsibility we both want and reject. It's that Sisyphean introverted hell that's cast upon these characters by 'waking up' - and it's just what 'is', without making a case for ignorance vs awareness as a preferable philosophical state, because what's the point in objectivity when the emotion of the subjectives clashing is what McDonagh knows to matter most? Hell, it's everything in a God-forsaken world.

I particularly liked the last act's more refined observations on how we attempt to avoid despair at all costs, regardless of its impossibility (the plot is basically two characters trying to do this through action and inaction, both failing, and both working in direct opposition to the other). Yes, we fear change but also crave it, struggle to cope with dysphoria and loss, suffer from pervasive intrapersonal conflict extended into pervasive interpersonal conflict; from personal to social. Despite Farrell being the clear lead, and giving one hell (a word that should be used at least three times in every writeup of this film) of a performance, I came to find the most nebulous character, Gleeson, to be the most interesting and sad case of them all. I wasn't expecting that- not for about 90% of this thing, and the few revealing scenes leading up to the denouement shed new light on events that will almost certainly deliver richer returns on a subsequent viewing. I was also surprised to be wow'd by Kerry Condon's performance above all the rest - it's a deceptively one-note role, but her standalone scene with Keoghan is touching and sorrowful and gently graceful all at once, and one of the best moments in the film. If one reads this as thematically integral (as it obviously is, this is no overstuffed Billboards affair) rather than fluff, I think the key is one of several keys to the film's heart, black and compromised as it is.

On a first viewing, I appreciated this as an intellectual exercise more than I 'enjoyed' it. I typically love revisiting this kind of philosophical theatre stuff, but I can't picture myself motivated to see it again anytime soon. If I do, I may feel entirely differently about it, or read it in a completely new way, primarily because the film eventually elucidates that it's interested in questioning its own profundity and that of its themes, including its characters' (and general human) emotion. Just like the incredibly-appropriate title of the film- which, within the narrative, is considered superficially assigned and vapid one minute, and deeply meaningful and enigmatic the next- perspective shifts. But note which direction it shifts in, because these patterns significantly shift only that direction, for every character exposed to this psychic change. Perhaps this is what the film is really about. Anyways, it's definitely a humbler return to form for McDonagh, who even manages to take his obligatory jab at Catholic priests' sexual behavior in a restrained and funny manner this time!

*and that's hardly grazing what each film has to say about time's spacious elasticity and forward focus, our powerlessness to alter what we want to, and the criticisms of value we place in the art we create and use to fill it

This is close to being the film of the year for me. McDonagh's beautifuly modulated script moves from tragedy to comedy, sometimes in the same sentences and shots. All the performances are excellent but Farrell's portrait of sadness at the incomprehensibility of what is happening to him is Oscar-worthy.

Upon further reflection, I think this film's greatest accomplishment isn’t so much capturing the trapped state of unbearable staticity and impossible movement, but digging deeper (certainly diagnosing in a uniquely different direction) that condition where we become ‘mean’ against our better nature in the face of social triggers as a self-prescribed form of self-preservation. It’s not an uncommon situation for even the ‘nicest’ of people to treat a person with flat affect and cold ignorance when that other’s enthusiasm toward the friendship (or, if there's one-sided romantic interest) is not reciprocal to how the subject feels, and is relentless is their approach. I’ve always considered this to be one of the saddest common social situations to encounter, empathetically for the enthusiastic party who is taking a risk of vulnerability only to be scorned; and also for the one doing harm, for feeling forced to act in an uncharacteristically less-than-spiritual manner to get their own needs met as a result of a social contract they didn’t sign up for (or maybe did through requesting or participating in profitable exchanges for themselves in our intrinsically social existence, though how horrific that it's all-consuming)- but also because there are certainly other options we’re just not aware of in that moment. Both situations feel like survivalism and they are destined to be lose-lose in some respect, especially when emotion is concerned, which can’t be reasoned with or willed away. It's interesting how McDonagh establishes relationships as contractual, but where the contract is sourced in emotion. The further Gleeson tries to venture from emotion and into an aloof logic for self-protection, the more this fits ill with the emotions of others, and reveals the emotional roots of his own decision to part from the magnet of feelings. But he's no match for the fatalism of the human condition.

I think this film I'll have to let linger for a while before I form a more concrete opinion about it.

I loved the concept of this. I don't think I've ever seen a film so focused on friendship in and of itself. Not friendship that exists in the face of a broader conflict or coming of age tale, but that very basic part of the human condition where you just have people you regularly see and talk to as part of your everyday existence. This film is refreshingly focused on the mundane, eschewing the larger story of the IRA fighting in the background to emphasize the existence of two lonely men who drew comfort from the other (despite Gleeson's character's central conceit, there is an obvious fondness he has toward Farrell's) and the implications of one discarding their relationship for his own personal gain.

The humor didn't really land for me, like the Mozart line and the scene between Farrell and the music student on the cart felt like forced bits that went against the flow of the more organic parts for me. The bluntness of Gleeson explaining his dislike of Farrell to him played a lot better. McDonagh's style is one I've found awkward in the past in how he mixes humor with tragedy, mainly because the humor occasionally steers toward one-liners. This one played better overall than In Bruges but I think it's because I was far more invested in the characters.

Overall it was the best thing I've seen by McDonagh and the highlight of the year for me, but one I feel will only dwindle in stature upon rewatch

I was very glad to be as taken with BANSHEES as I was when I finally saw it. This is much more in line with McDonagh's work for the stage, the smaller more intense focus, the sense of isolation and the ripple effect of smaller tensions breaking out into ugly violence. I can't think that marketing the film as a comedy is doing it any favors, I'm seeing a lot of viewer comments about how sad the film turned out to be, and yeah. It wasn't the laughs that were haunting me the next day, but the closely observed little moments of pain from Farrell, the guy who's just got no resources at all to help him deal with heartbreak.

It made me wonder, not for the first time, how a film of BEAUTY QUEEN OF LEENANE might work, or LIEUTENANT OF INISHMORE.

McDonagh’s saddest and most thoughtful film, and if it’s not his funniest, Banshees of Inisherin is certainly closer to the belly laughs of his first feature than its thematic concerns would suggest. As usual, one of the strengths of McDonagh’s script is his facility with language, but here it’s paired with a considered, balanced examination of the insecurities and failures of empathy that drive men apart.

Colin Farrell gives what might be his finest, most delicate performance while losing none of the inherent comedic qualities that work in films as tonally different as The Lobster, In Bruges, and The Gentlemen. Brendan Gleeson, Barry Keoghan, and Kerry Condon are all very good to excellent, so it’s no small feat at all that Farrell’s is the performance to remember.

Ironically, despite its subject being decidedly universal, this film ends up indirectly being a far more incisive commentary on 21st-century America than anything in Three Billboards: mismatched friends and neighbors are gradually pulled by stubbornness, selfishness, lack of empathy, carelessness, and ultimately rage and cruelty into an enmity so strong it seems inescapable. As bleak as much of the film is, there are glimmers of something that might be too strong to call hope; maybe it’s enough that even those who can’t see a path to reconciliation might still recognize the futile emptiness of retaliation.

Add me to the chorus of praise for this film — the battle of a dissolving friendship played out like a great spiritual war is tremendously affecting. I’d add “alchemical” to Mfunk’s “elemental” above, in that it’s very much “as above, so below” (as inland, so offshore?).

Superbly acted as well. I don’t want to pigeonhole McDonagh, but it’s clear he’s more comfortable in this register than he was in Three Billboards. I’ll echo DarkImbecile’s claim that this is a much more powerful movie about our present by virtue of being so universal.

It'd be a peculiar move for the Academy to award the top acting prize to Farrell's less concentrated performance over what I imagine Fraser's will look like, but also very welcome and apparently quite probable! If anyone deserves an award though, it's Kerry Condon. I still feel like McDonagh is trying a little too hard, and that threatens to dilute what he's aiming to convey especially when the narrative is rooted in exploring humility, but the potency of the material can't be entirely spoiled by his pretentious qualities when they're being humbled here and there by the scope alone. I suppose one could argue that the I-just-cant-leave-this-out-of-my-script-itus of witty bites works in flux with that restraint much like the two frenemies embody opposing sides of desperate existential choices in self-inflation or deprecation, to oversimplify, but I don't think that's intentional

Thanks for that - unlike some extremely superficial attacks on the film, there's real substance there, and it actually engages with the vast body of Irish literature with which I assume Martin McDonagh is also intimately familiar.

Although I think it downplays the fact that a lot of great Irish writers produced their best work abroad (Joyce, Beckett, O'Flaherty), even if it was directly about Ireland, so I wouldn't be too inclined to read that much into McDonagh's London upbringing. Not least because his parents were Irish and he visited the country regularly, so there's not that much in common between him and, say, John Ford, who has similarly close Irish ancestry but much less direct exposure to the country itself.

(I also sympathise with the writer's dilemma of feeling like a party pooper when an acclaimed film just doesn't feel convincing - I have many American friends who insist to me that Match Point is one of the finest things that Woody Allen ever did, but this native Londoner simply can't get past some truly Godawful characterisation from someone who's clearly barely set foot in the place before. Maybe - and I'm being perfectly serious here - I should try it in dubbed French with subtitles?)

Yeah, I'm often wary of critiques like these and don't necessarily share the opinion (I think there are fair reasons why McDonagh chose this kind of setting entirely divorced from a vehicle of Irishness), but it did seem like one of the less superficial ones. I have the same issues with unconvincing therapist interventions and warped depictions of addiction on film, so we all have our sensitivities.

MichaelB wrote: Fri Feb 17, 2023 1:32 pm (I also sympathise with the writer's dilemma of feeling like a party pooper when an acclaimed film just doesn't feel convincing - I have many American friends who insist to me that Match Point is one of the finest things that Woody Allen ever did, but this native Londoner simply can't get past some truly Godawful characterisation from someone who's clearly barely set foot in the place before. Maybe - and I'm being perfectly serious here - I should try it in dubbed French with subtitles?)

Give it a try - probably not quite the same, but when I was stuck at my parents' home with cabin fever and no viewing options beyond free broadcast TV, I noticed their Spanish language channel usually showed Hollywood films dubbed in Spanish, and it actually made known mediocrities far more tolerable to watch.

therewillbeblus wrote: Fri Feb 17, 2023 3:27 pm Yeah, I'm often wary of critiques like these and don't necessarily share the opinion (I think there are fair reasons why McDonagh chose this kind of setting entirely divorced from a vehicle of Irishness), but it did seem like one of the less superficial ones. I have the same issues with unconvincing therapist interventions and warped depictions of addiction on film, so we all have our sensitivities.

As a Canadian, I have similar reactions to depictions of street hockey that ring particularly false, and its shittiness as a film aside, the young actors in the opening sequence of MYSTIC RIVER have clearly never held a hockey stick in their lives.

Now I’m wondering, what’s the “correct” way to shoot a crokinole disc?

MichaelB wrote: Fri Feb 17, 2023 1:32 pm Although I think it downplays the fact that a lot of great Irish writers produced their best work abroad (Joyce, Beckett, O'Flaherty), even if it was directly about Ireland, so I wouldn't be too inclined to read that much into McDonagh's London upbringing. Not least because his parents were Irish and he visited the country regularly, so there's not that much in common between him and, say, John Ford, who has similarly close Irish ancestry but much less direct exposure to the country itself.

There's a really good play that tackles the issues of Irishness in exile through a more historical lens in Brian Friel's Making History (just before his best known work, at least in cinema through its Meryl Streep starring adaptation: Dancing at Lughnasa). Which I mainly know about due to studying it for my English A levels along with The Dubliners!

colinr0380 wrote: Sat Feb 18, 2023 11:54 am

MichaelB wrote: Fri Feb 17, 2023 1:32 pm Although I think it downplays the fact that a lot of great Irish writers produced their best work abroad (Joyce, Beckett, O'Flaherty), even if it was directly about Ireland, so I wouldn't be too inclined to read that much into McDonagh's London upbringing. Not least because his parents were Irish and he visited the country regularly, so there's not that much in common between him and, say, John Ford, who has similarly close Irish ancestry but much less direct exposure to the country itself.

There's a really good play that tackles the issues of Irishness in exile through a more historical lens in Brian Friel's Making History (just before his best known work, at least in cinema through its Meryl Streep starring adaptation: Dancing at Lughnasa). Which I mainly know about due to studying it for my English A levels along with The Dubliners!

And there are three McDonagh plays that aren't Irish in theme or locale -- THE PILLOWMAN (which seems to have served as something of a template for SEVEN PSYCHOPATHS), A VERY VERY VERY DARK MATTER (about Hans Christian Andersen), and HANGMEN.

MichaelB wrote: Fri Feb 17, 2023 1:32 pm Thanks for that - unlike some extremely superficial attacks on the film, there's real substance there, and it actually engages with the vast body of Irish literature with which I assume Martin McDonagh is also intimately familiar.

The critique seems, to paraphrase, to be more against [all] 'films being artificial representations of [a type of] reality' that a specific criticism or condemnation of this one or of cliché representations of Irishness in particular, rather than everything in general. Which is a fair criticism in that it is obviously true, but equally rather pointless in that of course it is.

There are some interesting thoughts about how far McDonagh "uses" rather than "subverts" (or "comments on") certain stereotypes and shorthand, but again a) films are necessarily short, therefore tending to need that shorthand to better allow an audience to instantly grasp certain points - the arch correction of a fact suggesting intelligence; the casual brutality of an authority figure or inane repetition of a background character painting their character in swift broad strokes - rather than present people as the conplex, conflicted enigmas many (but far from all) are, etc.

I also struggle to get on board with criticisms of actions and clichés and settings that are (however cautiously or carefully) denounced for being degrees-of-unrealistic when the setting is outside of living memory - this is a [version of unreal] Ireland from one hundred years ago. Picking apart the use of shorthands including animals inside and afternoon drinking may be fair, may be accurate but still reads as judging the past by the standarda of the present - I do not see here (nor do I necessarily see it in MOST films) the suggestion that we should judge and believe ALL the Irish, then or now, to fit neatly into these boxes. These are discrete individuals, not automatic stand-ins for everyman, however resonany some of their mindsets, actions and reactions may seem.

Ironically, the mildly disparaging note that the whole may be a quasi-analogy

Spoiler

for Civil War - brother against brother, friend against friend quarreling over historical grudges now brought into sharp relief by changes of mindset and an erosion of cultural survival; shaped and viewed as a bleakly-comic but sometimes dangerously accurate paradoxical attempt to get ones demands met by threatening ONESELF rather than the opponent...

completely flew under my radar while watching, but makes a great deal of sense. And while it was brought up here to be sniffily dismissed as cack-handed, I actually find it very astute and well done.

Siskel & Ebert give their takes, digits. (NSFW)