Wails of a Waning Friendship

Coming off like a fatalistic fairytale, Martin McDonagh’s fourth feature film, The Banshees of Inisherin (2022), has been deemed a pitch black tragicomedy, whereas his other films (In Bruges, Seven Psychopaths, and Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri) would more simply be described as dark comedies, or dramedies. Subtly drawing symbolic ties to the Irish Civil War of 1922-23 (it is set in 1923), as well as the long lasting strife known as The Troubles (which took place between the 1960s to 90s), this divide is shown by way of muses Pádraic (Colin Farrell) and Colm (Brendan Gleeson).

For whatever reason, people are obsessed with love and relationships – celebrity couples, The Bachelor (and its female counterpart), Rock of Love, Love Island. . . the list goes on and on. Then there are those nosey questions from family members – ‘Any prospective dates?’, ‘Are you seeing anyone special?’, ‘What happened to that nice girl you were dating last year?’, ‘When are you going to get married?’. . . as if you can’t be happy unless you are paired with someone. Based on this assumption, Yorgos Lanthimos creates a most fascinating vision of this very world of love and relationships with his 2015 film The Lobster. An absurdist dystopic vision set in a rather similar world to today, Lanthimos (along with his writing partner Efthimis Filippou) set out very strict rules for this alternate reality. In a landscape where everyone must be paired together, those who lose a partner (either to death or separation), are sent to a high end resort – where they have only forty-five days to find a suitable partner to continue their lives. If, for whatever reason, they cannot find someone, they are turned into an animal of their choosing (bonus!).

Like watching a magician shuffle a deck of cards (including jokers) into perfect numerical order, director John Crowley (Brooklyn) takes Mark O’Rowe’s screenplay, which consists of a whopping fifty-four characters (hence the jokers) and eleven separate storylines, weaving them together in wholly interesting ways to make Intermission (2003). What is it about Irish screenwriters that gives them the ability to build these complex stories in clever ways? I really don’t have an answer, but like the works of brothers Martin and John Michael McDonagh, there is a unique essence in this narrative that avoids tropes, Crowley intersecting all of O’Rowe’s stories in an impressive way.

And they say things move pretty fast in the 21st century. . . in 1939's Made for Each Other, directed by John Cromwell, the protagonist couple marry after one short day of courtship – and they weren’t even in Las Vegas (instead, Boston). A bizarre script structure, this David O. Selznick production takes an almost vignette-style look at marriage (the opening credits actually feature the couple signing the marriage certificate – a nice touch) – with no foreshadowing or traditional setup in the first two acts, like in life, things just arise out of nowhere. . . yet, despite this unusual format, there is still enough to catch your interest.