The release of movie The Banshees of Inisherin, takes Marie Curren back to her days living in the west of Ireland 20 years ago.
For those seeking refuge from this summer’s unusually warm temperatures, the prospect of retreating for a couple of hours to an air-conditioned cinema can hold considerable appeal.
The recently-released, already highly-acclaimed movie, The Banshees of Inisherin, is billed as a comedy, but if so, then it is a very dark one. To me it seems more like a tragedy. The film will not necessarily be to everyone’s taste, but I was hooked from the moment I heard the title.
Banshees I already knew about from my childhood. In Irish folklore they are female spirits whose shrieking and mourning signal the impending death of a family member. My mother used to tell me that her family could hear them wailing in the chimney when her Irish-born father was dying. I was curious to find out what part these mythical spirits played in the film.
Having once lived in the west of Ireland for several months, I was also immediately struck by the familiarity of the landscape when I first viewed the promotional trailer. I had been made aware of banshees, but I had never heard of Inisherin, so why did I feel as if I had already been there?
One of these locations was Inis Mór (Inishmore), the biggest of the three Aran Islands at the mouth of Galway Bay, and the other was Achill Island, the largest of Ireland’s off-shore isles, further up the coast in County Mayo.
Our expedition to Inishmore one mid-summer weekend in 2002 involved a 50-minute ferry trip from Rossaveal Harbour, the embarkation port for the Arans, some 30km up the Connemara coast west of Galway City. Our outgoing boat ride on very calm Atlantic waters afforded many attractive views back to the stark Connemara hills, as well as towards our ultimate destination, Kilronan, the main settlement on Inishmore. The village itself is just an unprepossessing cluster of houses, a few hostelries, a large general store and several craft shops, stocking, not unexpectedly, substantial quantities of Aran jerseys.
On disembarking we had to run the gauntlet of mini-vans and pony-traps waiting on the pier to whisk visitors to their destination of choice. Although it may have been more atmospheric to explore Inishmore’s intricate network of drystone-walled lanes by horse and cart, the main form of transport in the movie other than Shanks’s pony, we engaged a mini-van driver to take us to the foot of Dún Aonghasa, the island’s main attraction. From the visitor centre at the base, it was about a 15-minute walk up to a prehistoric hill fort covering some 5ha. The site includes four rings of huge stone battlements, with the rear of the fort perched dizzyingly on the edge of spectacularly sheer cliffs.
The cottage inhabited by two key characters in the film, Pádraic and his sister Siobhán, was purpose built not far from this ancient fort. A conversation between Pádraic and Dominic, the island policeman’s troubled son, was filmed on these precipitous cliffs. When we visited the area, I was appalled to see so many people casually hanging over the cliff edge that drops sharply over 100m to the sea below. There was not a safety rail to be seen, so I at least kept a respectful distance.
At one point of the film, Pádraic cuts a lone figure on the cliffs, looking out to sea. Like us, he would have been able to see across to the mainland where, in 1923, the time of the film, the Irish civil war was raging. However, he was not standing up there to admire the spectacular scenery, which is so dramatically captured in the movie.
Our bus driver was a mine of information and a source of some irreverent jokes. However, he was totally serious when he spoke of the pillaging of the island’s monasteries and churches during the Cromwellian conquest of Ireland in the mid-17th-century. He talked as if Oliver Cromwell’s men had been going about their nefarious business just the previous day, and he had been personally affected. Grudges held by various islanders also underpin the plot of The Banshees of Inisherin.
In the past, a significant element in the islanders’ survival in this often bleak and unproductive environment was the light, traditional island boat, the currach. This is a small vessel, still in occasional use nowadays, more recently constructed with a tar-covered canvas (rather than the traditional animal skins or hides), stretched over a wooden latticed frame. The currach, and other aspects of island life, landscape, traditions and culture, are well explained in a series of exhibits at the Kilronan heritage centre, which we visited on our second day on the Arans. Plenty of currachs appear in coastal and harbour scenes in the movie.
We got some idea in reality of what it must be like in a currach on heavy seas when it came time for our return trip to the mainland. Originally, we had intended to take the day’s last ferry sailing at 6pm, but with the weather rapidly deteriorating we, along with many others, were eager to get off the island at the first possible opportunity, in case the later trip had to be cancelled.
We had an anxious wait as the people who had specifically booked for the 4pm crossing were shepherded aboard, while the crew checked their hand-held clickers to decide if any more passengers could be accommodated. The pre-booked passengers were seated in the cabin and the rest of us were assigned to external seating on the exposed lower deck.
Three minutes after leaving the dock we were splashed by our first wave. We were advised to seek some shelter. This was easier said than done as the boat was now starting to be tossed around in increasingly rough seas. John struggled up into the cabin where a number of passengers were already being violently sick. I was too scared to try to climb the steps in case I slipped and came to worse grief. I clung grimly to a nearby rail for the rest of the journey, being miserably drenched by each successive wave. It was a great relief eventually to make it safely ashore. Fortunately, Siobhán of the movie struck better weather than we did for the journey to the mainland.
Lovely Achill Island, some 150km north of Inishmore, is reached by a causeway from the mainland. For us this was picture-book Ireland at its very best, and we had magnificent weather for our exhilarating self-drive day tour. As we made our way along the stunning coastal Atlantic Drive towards Achill Head, we were dazzled by the lush green pastures, the gleaming white sands of Keem Strand, the brilliant blue of the ocean, the steep golden cliffs, the photogenic horned, black-faced sheep, and various picturesque white cottages glinting in the sunshine.
Pádraic and Colm’s local pub was especially constructed for the movie in Cloughmore on the impossibly scenic Atlantic Drive, and much of the main action unfolded at this pub. It was subsequently dismantled, but there has been talk recently of it being possibly rebuilt as a permanent tourist attraction, since more and more people are apparently expressing an interest in touring the various film locations.
The J.J. Devine pub reminded us of many other Irish watering holes that hold regular music ‘‘sessions’’, especially pubs in the west of the country. Typically, people turn up with an instrument to participate in impromptu music making which is often performed with breath-taking skill and verve. As was the case in The Banshees in Inisherin, there usually seem to be more musicians than patrons at these events. We were always amazed at how such a diverse group could move so seamlessly from one tune to another. I was delighted to see one person at the J.J Devine pub playing the bodhrán, a type of drum that is one of Ireland’s most distinctive traditional instruments and still made locally on the Connemara coast.
Colm has become unhealthily obsessed with his music to the exclusion of what has previously been important to him. He plays the fiddle, and central to the melancholy plot and captivating musical score are his efforts to complete a composition that he has entitled The Banshees of Inisherin.
Inisherin itself is a clever construct by Irish writer-director Martin McDonagh, who has created a plausible place based on his choice of authentic locations. The banshees are less in evidence, although there is one spooky figure, the pipe-smoking, scythe-carrying, doom-laden Mrs McCormick, who seems to personify the sense of imminent death and destruction that intensifies during the movie.
However you choose to visit Ireland’s islands, be it in reality, cinematically, or perhaps both, you will be confronted by the unexpected at every turn. Although not all your experiences will be pleasant, many will delight you, and most will be utterly unforgettable.
