Brendan Gleeson – Rating Frames

Joker: Folie à Deux preview screening provided by Universal Pictures.

When word came out that Todd Phillips’ sequel to his box office hit, Joker (2019), would take the form of a quasi-musical for large parts, intrigue with a sprinkle of hesitation was coursing through the veins of pop culture discourse. After all, Phillips’ track record with sequels, namely the Hangover sequels, isn’t exactly the most compelling; but when you’ve got Joaquin Phoenix helming your film, anything is possible.

It wasn’t until news of Lady Gaga’s involvement with the sequel, however, that interest really started picking up. Here’s a director who’s landed arguably the greatest actor of his generation for a second roll of the dice, AND he’s got one of the biggest pop stars in the world as well? Well, If A Star is Born (2018) was a recipe for success, Joker: Folie à Deux was practically a delicious dish waiting to be served.

And to be fair, that intrigue carries into the first 20 or so minutes of Folie à Deux, with the events of the first film where Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix) blew out the brains of a hit late-night talk-show host live on TV, permeating. Arthur is now a martyr of sorts to other troubled minds, with a TV movie charting his killings earning him far reaching recognition, however he’s also in Arkham Asylum and hardly reaping the benefits of his infamous status.

It’s in these first 20 minutes that Phillips also sets the stage for Arthur’s eventual relationship with Harleen ‘Lee’ Quintal (Lady Gaga), an arsonist who catches Arthur’s eye from within the prison’s singing group for inmates. After Arthur is enrolled in the class by a brutal prison guard (played by the legendary Brendan Gleeson), it’s easy to see where this thread is going.

Whether or not Lee is drawn to the real Arthur or his alter-ego Joker, is still relatively vague at this stage, but it’s a concern that Phillips leans on for a majority of the film’s tension — the distortion between reality and fantasy. The idea of unpacking where Arthur Fleck ends and where the Joker begins is an interesting one, if it wasn’t already so fleshed out in the first film.

(L to r) JOAQUIN PHOENIX as Arthur Fleck and LADY GAGA as Lee Quinzel in Warner Bros. Pictures’ “JOKER: FOLIE À DEUX,” a Warner Bros. Pictures release.

It’s also what the film’s many jazzy musical numbers serve to emphasise, as they speak to Arthur’s attempt to cope with and manage the reality he’s been dealt and the fantasy he’s created for himself. Oftentimes I found myself at odds with these numbers, where at once they offer little glimpses into the psyche of a self-absorbed psychopath, but also act as distracting detours that seem to be the only opportunity to give Gaga some leg room to do… well… anything (though I’m mindful this is a film about the titular character and not the Harley Quinn show).

These numbers become even more prevalent as the film kicks into the second act where Arthur is on trial for his murders, as the jury seeks to determine whether he’s downright insane, or playing things up for show — essentially the film’s primary concern. This whole courtroom drama, second act overstays its welcome, with drawn out nothingness that reminded me of just how well other film’s manage similar situations (like 2023’s Killers of the Flower Moon). Phoenix gets some brief moments to lean into his even thinner physique, but beyond that this whole middle section feels like its treading old ground that the first film already established and resolved.

The brilliance of the Joker character in the DC universe has tended to shine through his caped crusader counterpart. It’s why Nolan’s version of Joker is so memorable, because he feels like a larger than life presence — something that’s earned in those films through methodical world building. In Folie à Deux, Arthur is contending with himself for a large majority of the film, trying to redeem himself in parts while succumbing to the voices within, in others. For such a big film, in this way it feels rather small which comes at the expense of the sort of substance you might expect from a film about such a recognisable character. As a result, a lot is banking on Phoenix’s performance to carry the often dull moments, but the shock factor of seeing him embody the character in the same way he did in the first film flies out the window this time around, so the shortcomings in the script are more noticeable.

While reducing the scale and confining audiences to Arthur’s world is a welcome subversion to what audiences might expect, it comes at the cost of an entertaining narrative. There are no mind blowing set pieces or scenes that build momentum into something; the biggest moment of the film comes rather late on, and even then it closes itself up faster than it opened (which will make sense as you watch the movie). Arthur —and by extension, the Joker— is relegated to the sidelines: he poses no palpable threat in the same way he did in the first film, and as a result the stakes don’t feel nearly as significant because he’s contained. Whether or not that’s a satiating enough angle for audiences by the time the credits roll is hard to say, but you may be left hungry for more.

Joker: Folie à Deux opens nationally from today.

A densely compacted tragic fable on friendship, breakups, art, passions, and how one spends one’s life, Banshees of Inisherin is one of the year’s most rewarding films, with a collection of brilliant performances by Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson, Kerry Condon, and Barry Keoghan amplifying an extraordinary script by Oscar winning filmmaker Martin McDonagh.

At the tail end of the Irish Civil War in 1923, on the outskirts of the conflict sits the fictitious isle of Inisherin, a quiet town that feels universal in both place and time. The conversations and bickering being had on Inisherin could be happening in the 1920s, 1820s, or even today. Revered playwright turned filmmaker Martin Mcdonagh often plays with the idea of places as a form of purgatory for his characters, with Inisherin being no exception.

Reuniting after 14 years, Mcdonagh, Farrell, and Gleeson echo their masterpiece In Bruges (2008) throughout Banshees, making for a perfect double feature. Gleeson plays Colm, a folk musician in Inisherin who decides, for unclear reasons, to abruptly ignore and reject his long-time friend Pádraic, played by Farrell. He tells Pádraic he finds him dull and would rather spend the rest of his days composing music, wanting to leave behind a legacy rather than drink at the pub and listen to idle conversation. The actors seem to mirror the disposition of the other in these two films, with Farrell turning from a vessel of guilt to a sweetheart, and Gleeson from a kind and endearing soul to a self-absorbed and increasingly cruel man.

The setup is simple with the characters devolving as Pádraic’s desire to understand and rekindle this relationship with his closest friend persists. As Pádraic continues in his endeavour, Colm’s threats towards him to be left alone grow more and more extreme, leading to truly shocking places.

Brendan Gleeson (left) and Colin Farrell in *The Banshees of Inisherin*

What allows Banshees to thrive is its ability to entertain throughout as a film of friendship, art, and finding meaning in one’s life, as well as operating at an incredibly high level of thematic and political resonance. McDonagh has grown exponentially as a visual storyteller, allowing his sharp pen to relax and to allow the other aspects of cinema to communicate his themes and ideas in deeply rewarding ways.

A series of thematic ties to Colm and Van Gogh plays both into the conflict the musician is feeling about his life and his work, and his desire to emit a legacy in a town that is absent of one. Gleeson gives a nuanced and subtle performance that should hopefully be rewarded in the awards season, exuding pathos and despair in a world he finds incredibly meaningless. In an interview with GQ, production designer Mark Tildesley describes Colm’s home like a Van Gogh painting;

“When you get into Colm’s house, the inside is almost like a Van Gogh painting. It’s yellow, bright. It has a red floor, which is an old oilskin from sailcloth, and a black ceiling, [which] are strong colours for a period film.”
Hannah Strong, GQ

These striking visual choices and the obvious allusion to Van Gogh’s ear with Colm’s threat of mutilation further cement the comparison between artists. The genius of this thematic connection is in how the filmmakers create the ties through the character Colm’s own choices, not their own. The sadness of the Colm story is his desperate need to have his work evaluated and celebrated, something we are never actually shown. We never hear his completed works so his projected idea of himself as this tortured artist is never redeemed for us as the audience, allowing only the pathos and cruelty of his decisions to fester throughout. What allows the very best character-led dramas to succeed is in creating a world that is believably crafted by its characters, something Banshees achieves superbly.

Brendan Gleeson (right) and Colin Farrell in *The Banshees of Inisherin*

The war of friends is a microcosm of the civil war taking place on its fringes in heartbreaking ways. There are better places to learn of the Irish civil war, but in essence, it was an internal struggle between the Irish about the ownership of land by the British, occurring shortly after the Irish War of Independence that created the free state. Viewing Colm and Pádraic’s falling out between brothers, devolving into increasing brutality (both to their land and personhood) in this historical sense allows the weight of this quirky comedy to ascend to greater heights. The heartbreak at the conclusion of the film is further extended with the knowledge of the troubles to come.

But to call The Banshees of Inisherin a political film about the Irish Civil War would be to reduce the breadth of ideas McDonagh is working with here. Complicated characters working against each other and their place in the world for seemingly asinine reasons, inside a deeply enjoyable and melancholic comedy, is the work of a master writer at the top of his game.

Banshees is a brilliant balancing act that consistently grounds itself in its characters, never allowing its more ethereal themes to float away into wistful abstraction. McDonagh is at the top of his game both as a writer and filmmaker here, allowing the non dialogue heavy moments to shine as much as the musicality of his feckin’ barbs to create one of the year’s best films.

The Banshees of Inisherin is in select theatres from Boxing Day.

Tag: Brendan Gleeson

Joker: Folie à Deux Treads Familiar Territory to its Predecessor

The Banshees of Inisherin is a Feckin’ Good Time