Last day in Toronto for me, I’ll be catching “The Greatest Beer Run” later this evening. Last night, I caught up with Martin McDonagh’s practically plotless “The Banshees of Inisherin,” which is driven by conversation (brilliant screenplay) and a near-biblical dilemma. On a remote Irish island, Colm (a superb Brendan Gleason) suddenly decides to stop talking to best friend Padraic (a never-better Colin Farrell). Why? Nobody, including the audience, knows. It’s an existential character drama that is expertly written and wise beyond words. If I’ve given flack to McDonagh’s films over the years for being none-too-cinematic, well, Banshees resolves that issue with Ben Davis’ luscious images of coastal Ireland. McDonagh’s screenplay is the best of the year, so far.
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