All language subtitles for The.Banshees.of.Inisherin.2022.1080p.WEB.H264-NAISU

Colm?

Are you coming out
to the pub, Colm?

It's 2:00, like.

Will I see you down there, so?

I'll see you down there, so.

What are you doin' home?

Brother?

What are you doin' home?

I knocked on ColmSonnyLarry.
He's just sitting there.

Sitting there doin' what?

Sittin' there doin' nothing.

Smoking.

Was he asleep?

He was smoking, Siobhan.

How do you smoke
in your sleep, like?

Have ye been rowing?

We haven't been rowin'.

I don't think
we've been rowin'.

Have we been rowin'?

Why wouldn't he
answer the door to me?

Maybe he just
doesn't like you no more.

Pint, Jonjo.

Is Colm not with you?

No. Colm's always with you.

I know. Did you not knock for him?

I did knock for him.

Well, where is he? Just sittin' there.

Sittin' there doin' what?

Sittin' there doing nothin'.

Smokin'.

Have ye been rowin'?

I don't think
we've been rowin'.

Sounds like ye've been rowin'.

It does sound
like we've been rowin'.

Will I try him again?

That'd be the best thing.

Officer Kearney.

Never says "hello."

Never fecking says "hello."

Colm?

Colm?

The door was open, Colm.

Colm?

Where the hell
are you headin' off to?

- Everybody?
- No, this is true.

He scored six points
from open play.

He was barely
the size of a dwarf!

This is true!

- Howdo.
- Howdo, Padraic.

Sit somewhere else.

Huh?

Uh... But I have
me pint there, Colm.

He has his pint there, Colm,

from when he came in and
ordered his pint from before.

Okay.

I'll sit somewhere else, so.

Are ye rowin'?

I didn't think we were rowin'.

Well, ye are rowin'.

Well, ye are rowin'.
He's sittin' outside

on his own
like a whatchamacallit.

It does look
like we're rowin'.

Well, I suppose
I'd best go talk to him, so.

See what all this
is fecking about.

That'd be the best thing.

Now I'm sittin' here
next to you,

and if you're goin' back inside,
I'm followin' you inside,

and if you're goin' home,
I'm followin' you there, too.

Now, if I've done somethin'
to ya,

just tell me
what I've done to ya.

And if I've said
somethin' to ya,

maybe I said somethin' when I was drunk,
and I've forgotten it,

but I don't think I said somethin'
when I was drunk, and I've forgotten it.

But if I did,
then tell me what it was,

and I'll say sorry
for that too, Colm.

With all me heart,
I'll say sorry.

Just stop running away from me like
some fool of a moody schoolchild.

But you didn't
say anything to me.

And you didn't
do anything to me.

That's what
I was thinking, like.

I just don't like you no more.

You do like me.

I don't.

But you liked me yesterday.

Oh, did I, yeah?

I thought you did.

Padraic.

Dominic.

What's the matter with ya?

There's nothing the matter
with me, for God's sake.

Look at this I found.

A stick with a hook.

What would you use it for,
I wonder?

To hook things that were
the length of a stick away?

Where you goin'?

Down here.

As good a plan
as any!

Have you any fags? No.

Uh, you do.
You always have fags.

ColmSonnyLarry's at Jonjo's
handing out a rake of fags.

Whoever's in the mood for one.

Is he? No!

You're behavin' awful unusual.

What are you doin' here?

Was the pub closed?

No, it was open.

Anything in the paper?

Just the Civil War still. Ugh.

A bad do.

Mrs. McCormick's comin' over later, Padraic.
I couldn't avoid her.

I don't know if you're gonna be in or out,
but you're usually out.

Am I?

You are.
Yeah, you know you are.

I don't care, Siobhan.

This is your house, too.

Is it six years since your
mammy and daddy died, Siobhan,

or is it seven years
since they died?

It's coming up to eight years,
Mrs. McCormick, aye.

Is it comin' up
to eight years?

Doesn't time be flyin'?

Aye, when you're havin' fun.

Oh, be off
to the pub now, Padraic,

if you're gonna
be annoyin' us.

I don't have to be down there
every night, do I?

ColmSonnyLarry's
scared him off, I suppose.

What did you hear
of ColmSonnyLarry?

Didn't you and he used to be
the best of friends?

We're still
the best of friends.

No, you're not. Who says we're not?

She says.

Ah, for God's sake, Siobhan.

I said nothing of the like, Mrs. McCormick!
I was just chatting.

Now, you go off
to Jonjo's, Padraic,

and don't be getting
under our feet.

Sure, Mrs. McCormick never gets a
chance to come over for a chat.

She never gets a chance
'cause you avoid her.

I do not avoid her!

You hide behind walls
if she's coming up the road.

I do not!

h... hide behind walls.

Good luck to ye.

Whatever it is
you're fightin' about.

I didn't hear
there was to be a session.

Last-minute thing.

Colm decided.

All the ladies love Colm,
you know. Always did.

Yeah? That's not true.

You're still barred,
Dominic! Out!

You said barred until April.

What are we now?

April.

Well, put that stick
outside anyways,

and don't be
bothering the women.

There's women?

There is women.

And good ones.

♪♪ Well, I took out my dog

♪♪ And him I did shoot

♪♪ All down
in the County Kildare...

If we sat next to Colm,
the women would have to talk to us too,

and then we could get at them
with our small talk.

I'm happy enough
sittin' here, now.

Are ya, yeah?

Are ya happy enough, yeah?

♪♪ So fill up your glasses

♪♪ With brandy...

I can't stand
the maudlin ones.

Play somethin' dancey, Colm!

To dance to.

And not have
that mope whining.

♪♪ So be easy and free... ♪♪

Here, amn't I in enough trouble
with him without your mouthing?

What trouble in
are you in with him?

Uh, he just...

doesn't want to be friends
with me no more.

What is he, 12?

Why does he not want to be
friends with you no more?

Shh.

Daddy'll kill us if we wake
him when he's been wanking.

You won't get into trouble
for taking his poteen?

I will get into trouble,

but fuck it.

I saw cannon-fire and rifle-fire
on the mainland tonight.

Did you see it?

That'll be the Civil War.

I know that, sure.

Me, I pay no attention
to wars. I'm agin 'em.

Wars and soap.

I tell you this much.

We're good at chatting,
aren't we?

Me and you?

Your sister,
does she like to chat?

Not as much as most women,
but she'll chat, like.

She more likes reading.

Reading?

Feckin' hell.

Reading.

And did you ever see her
with no clothes on?

I didn't.

Did you not,
and you her brother?

Not even as a child?

I don't like to be chattin'
about these types of things, Dominic!

What types of things?

Sisters with no clothes on!

You saw my daddy
with no clothes on.

And till the day I die,
I'll wish I hadn't.

Sure, don't I know it.

The tiny, brown cock on him.

What's the matter with him?

Maybe bad news he's had?

Daddy?

No, ColmSonnyLarry.

Didn't I tell ya
I'd be off if you went

whining about that lummox
one more time?

I tell ya, it didn't look like
he had bad news tonight.

It looked like a weight was lifted
from his shoulders tonight.

Just bringing me cows past.

What?

I was just bringing
me cows past.

I wasn't, you know,
trying to...

You don't usually
bring them this way.

I don't,
but then the little fella

took a fright
at a hen on the corner, so...

I only...

I only just saw what month
we changed to yesterday.

More fool me?

Changed to April.

So, will I be callin' for ya
on me way to the pub later?

I will so.

Anyways,

I better chase
after these goons

for they're gettin' away
from me.

Maybe they don't
like me no more neither.

See you at 2:00, so, Colm.

Why don't you come down
for a sherry later?

There's no need to be stuck
inside on a nice day.

I will so.

How's the book?

It's sad.

Sad?

Well, you should read
a not sad one, Siobhan,

else you might get sad.

Hmm.

Do you never
get lonely, Padraic?

Never get what?

Lonely.

Do I never get lonely?

What's the matter
with everybody?

Jesus.

"Lonely." Fecking hell.

Colm?

Pint, Jonjo.

How's he seem?

Grand, I think.
With me, anyways.

What are you doing?

Oh, so you're gonna be
an eejit again today, is it?

Amn't I allowed to have a
quiet pint on me own, Padraic?

Well, don't ask a man to call up
to ya at your fecking house, so,

like he has nothing better
to do with his fecking time.

I didn't ask you to call up
to me at me house.

And you do have nothing better
to do with your fecking time.

Huh?

You do have nothing better
to do with your fecking time.

I know I've nothing better
to do with me fecking time,

but there's better things I could
be doing with me fecking time

than to be calling up to ya
at your house, Colm Doherty!

Like what?

Huh?

Like what else
could you be doin'?

Reading.

Reading, yeah?

Me, this morning...

this I wrote.

Tomorrow, I'll write
the second part of it.

And the day after, I'll write
the third part of it.

And by Wednesday,
there'll be a new tune in the world,

which wouldn't have been there
if I'd spent the week

listening to your bollocks,
Padraic Suilleabhain.

So, do you want
to take your pint outside,

or do you want me
to take my pint outside?

I'll take my pint outside,

'cause it's a shite tune
anyways,

I wouldn't bother with it.

I was too harsh yesterday.

Yesterday, he says.

I know well
you was too harsh yesterday.

And today.

I just, uh...

I just have this tremendous sense of
time slippin' away on me, Padraic.

And I think I need to spend
the time I have left

thinking and composing.

Just trying not to listen

to any more of the dull things
that you have to say for yourself.

But I'm sorry about it.
I am, like.

Are you dying?

No, I'm not dying.

But then you've loads of time.

For chatting?

Aye. For aimless chatting?

Not for aimless chatting.
For good, normal chatting.

So, we'll keep
aimlessly chatting

and me life'll keep dwindling.

And in 12 years,
I'll die with nothin' to show for it

bar the chats I've had with a limited man,
is that it?

I said,
"Not aimless chatting."

I said,
"Good, normal chatting."

The other night,
two hours you spent talking to me

about the things you found in your
little donkey's shite that day.

Two hours, Padraic.
I timed it.

Well, it wasn't me
little donkey's shite, was it?

It was me pony's shite,
which shows how much you were listenin'.

None of it helps me,
do you understand?

None of it helps me.

We'll just chat
about somethin' else then.

What's the matter with ya?

Nothin'.

Aren't we going for a sherry?

Don't feel like it.

No, I'm not having this
again today!

Hey! What the hell's going on
with you and me fecking brother?

Don't come in here
shouting the odds at me

in the middle of the fecking day,
all right, Siobhan?

You can't just all of a sudden

stop being friends
with a fella!

Why can't I?

Why can't ya?
Because it isn't nice.

Do you want a sherry, Siobhan?

No! Righty-ho.

Has he said somethin' to ya
when he was drunk?

No, I prefer him
when he's drunk.

It's all the rest of the time
I have the problem with.

What's the fecking
matter, then?

He's dull, Siobhan.

He's what?

He's dull.

But he's always been dull.
What's changed?

I've changed.

I just don't have a place for
dullness in me life anymore.

But you live on an island off
the coast of Ireland, Colm.

What the hell
are you hoping for, like?

For a bit of peace, Siobhan.
That's all.

For a bit of peace
in me heart, like.

You can understand that.
Can't ya?

Can't ya?

Do you think I'm dull?

No. 'Cause you're not dull,
you're nice.

That's what I thought.
I mean, I'm a happy lad.

Or I was.

Till me best friend started
acting the gilly-gooly.

It's him, Padraic.

Maybe he's just depressed.

That's what I was thinking,
that he's depressed.

Well, if he is,

he could at least
keep it to himself, like.

You know, push it down,
like the rest of us.

No, Jenny!
Out!

Out!

She just wants
a bit of company, Siobhan.

Animals is for outside,
I've told ya.

And people don't be laughing
at me behind me back,

do they?

No. Why would they be?

They don't think
I'm dim or anything?

Dim?

No.

You don't seem
very sure about it.

Of course, I'm sure about it.

Dominic's the dim one
on the island, isn't he?

He is, aye. By miles.

Uh, hang on, by miles.

And then,
who's the next dimmest?

Well, I don't like
to judge people

in those terms now, do I?

In what terms? In order of their dimness.

Well, I know you don't.
And neither do I, do I?

But try, like. No!

I won't try.

There's enough judgy people
on this fecking island, so no!

You're not dim!

You're a nice man, all right?
So, move on!

I'm as clever as you, anyways.

I know that at least.

Yeah,
don't be fecking stupid.

Huh?

What happened to you?

Me daddy discovered
the poteen situation.

Oh, Jesus, Dominic!

You poor thing, ya.

What the hell
was he hittin' you with?

A kettle was the final thing.

I wouldn'ta minded,
but for the spout.

Do you want a ride to church?

Uh, feck them gobshites!

Dominic!

But could I stay the night
with ye the night?

Just for the one night, like?

Mm...

Well, just
the one night, mind.

Nice! I'll see ye
for supper, so.

Whoo-hoo!

Forgive me, Father,
for I have sinned.

It's eight weeks since my last confession,
I think.

Go on, Colm.

Just the usual,
I suppose, Father.

The drinking
and the impure thoughts.

And a bit of pride, I suppose.

Although I never really saw that as a sin,
but sure I'm here now.

And

how's the despair?

Not so much of it of late.
Thanks be.

And why aren't you talking to
Padraic Suilleabhain no more?

That wouldn't be a sin, now,
would it, Father?

It wouldn't be a sin, no,
but it's not very nice either, is it?

Who told you?

It's an island, Colm.
Word gets around.

Also, Padraic asked me
to put in a word, like.

I see.

So...

It isn't him you have the
impure thoughts about, is it?

Are you joking me?

I mean,
are you fecking joking me?

People do have impure thoughts
about men, too.

Do you have impure thoughts
about men, Father?

I do not have
impure thoughts about men.

And how dare you say that
about a man of the cloth?

Well, you started it.

Well, you can get out of my
confessional right now, so you can.

And I'm not forgiving you
any of these things

until the next time,
so I'm not!

Well, I better not be dying in
the meantime then, eh, Father?

I'll be pure fucked!

You will be pure fucked!

Yes, you will be pure fucked!

Pint, Colm?

If you don't
stop talkin' to me,

and if you don't
stop botherin' me,

or sendin' your sister
or your priest to bother me...

I didn't send me sister
to bother you, did I?

She has her own mind.

Although, I did send the priest though,
you have me there.

What I've decided
to do is this.

I have a set of shears
at home.

And each time you bother me
from this day on,

I'll take those shears

and I'll take one
of me fingers off with them.

And I'll give
that finger to ya.

A finger from me left hand.
Me fiddle hand.

And each day
you bother me more,

another I'll take off
and I'll give ya

until you see
sense enough to stop.

Or until I have
no fingers left.

Does this make things
clearer to ya?

Not really, no.

Because I don't want

to hurt your
feelings, Padraic.

I don't, like.

But it feels like the drastic

is the only option
left open to me.

You've loads of options
left open to ya.

How's fingers
the first port of call?

Please, don't talk to me

no more, Padraic. Please.

I'm begging you.

- But...
- Shush, like, Padraic.

- Just, you know, shush, like.
- Yeah, I'd shush, like.

I will shush.

Except me and me sister
were thinking

you might just be
a bit depressed, Colm.

And I tell you this much,
fingers just confirms it.

Don't you think, Colm?

Starting from now.

Well, I never heard the like.

I never heard the like.
He must really not like you, Padraic.

Fingers!

Jesus. He's serious, lads.

He is serious!

You can see it
in his eyes he's serious.

Just because
he thinks you're dull.

That's going overboard!

Who told you about the dull?

Well, I overheard it.

Like, what was I
supposed to do?

I don't think you're dull.

And jeez, if I was
to cut something off meself

for every dull person that came in here,
I'd only have me head left.

Do you think I'm dull, Gerry?

No.

That said,

I did think the two of ye always
made a funny pairing, like.

- No, we didn't.
- Yeah, ye did.

Ye did. Obviously, ye did.

'Cause now he'd rather
maim himself than talk to ya.

Colm was always
more of a thinker.

Huh?

Why's every... I think.

Ah, you don't, Padraic.

You don't, Padraic. Your sister does.

Your sister does, aye.
Siobhan does. You're more of a...

You're more of a...
What is he?

You're more one
of life's good guys.

You're more one
of life's good guys, aye.

Apart from when you're drunk.

Apart from when
you're drunk, aye.

I used to think
that'd be a nice thing to be.

One of life's good guys.

And now, it sounds like
the worst thing I ever heard.

Ah, don't take it
like that, Padraic.

Don't take it
like that, Padraic.

We're on your side.

What are you smiling at?

What's this mope so mopey for?
He's just a fecking man, lads!

A fat, ginger man!

Ay yi yi.

I'll tell ya this much.
Ye two are awful mopey hosts.

Luckily, you won't have to put up
with us more than one night, so,

and try eatin'
with your mouth closed.

Where are we now, France?

Will you tell him, Padraic?

Aye, stop being a little
fecking bollocks, Dominic.

No. Just about
the mouth thing.

Colm Doherty
and his fat fecking fingers.

He probably
wouldn't even be able

to cut through the blubber
on them fingers.

Would you not want him
to have to do the one finger

to see
if he was bluffing, like?

No, we wouldn't.

That's what I'd have him do,

I'd have him do the one finger
to see if he was bluffin'.

'Cause worst comes to worst,

he can still play the fiddle
with four fingers, I'll bet ya.

Or the banjo.

We don't want any of that.

We just want nothing
to do with him no more.

You don't. This gom does.

I am a gom, is right.

You're not a gom!

Jeez.

This is a depressing house.

Would you prefer your own, so?

I've heard it's a barrel
of fecking laughs.

Well, touche.

Too what?

Che. Touche.
It's from the French.

And how is it, Siobhan,
that you was never married?

It's none of your
fecking business

how I was never
fecking married.

How isn't it?

How isn't it?

Was you never wild?

Wild? Was I never wild?

I don't know what
you're talkin' about, Dominic.

Wild, how? Angry?

'Cause I'm gettin' angry now,
I can tell ya!

Not angry. Wild.

You just keep
sayin' wild, Dominic!

Wild! My brother told you,
didn't he?

That you'd be out in the road

if you started
talking stupid to me?

He said creepy, not stupid.

Well, you've failed
on both counts, haven't ya?

I have.

I'm off to bed and he's not stayin'
here another night, Padraic.

I don't care
how depressed you are.

I'd rather have the donkey in.

Foiled again.

But "faint heart"
and all that.

Here.

Ye two, ye'll be all right.

Will we be?

Hello there, Mrs. O'Riordan,
I've the milk outside for ya.

So, it's the two weeks
you owe me for now, I think.

Nobody has a lick of news

for us from your side
of the island, Padraic.

Are you going
to be the same as them?

I am, Mrs. O'Riordan,
I'm afraid.

And I'm in a bit
of a rush, so...

Eileen Coughlan had no news.

Vincent Shaughnessy
had no news.

It was a poor old week for news.
But then it is, sometimes.

ColmSonnyLarry,
he had no news.

Did he not?

That man never talks.

Eh, he talks sometimes. Up himself.

Aye, aye, anyways, so, it's the two weeks
you owe me for now, Mrs. O'Riordan.

As I was sayin'.

Ladies.

Oh, it's Peadar.

Peadar always
has a rake of news.

- What news have you, Peadar?
- News, is it?

Fella killed himself,
over Rosmuck way.

Walked into a lake
for himself.

Twenty-nine and nothing wrong
with him, the fool.

God love us!

No, not "God love us." Fool!

Another fella,

Protestant, of course,

stabbed his missus
in Letterkenny.

Six times he stabbed her.

Good God!
And did she die, Peadar?

She did die, aye.

It wasn't with a spoon
he was stabbin' her.

That's a lot of news.

This man has no news,
don't ya not? No-Newsy!

- Stukes never have news.
- Stukes!

Funny.

There was a bit of news
I remembered, Mrs. O'Riordan.

Dominic Kearney's father
beat Dominic senseless

with a kettle Saturday,

and is staying with me
and me sister, Dominic is.

So, at least his father'll
take a bit of a break

from his beatin' of him.

And him, a policeman.

Isn't that news?

Ar, that Dominic's
an awful little bollocks.

That's no news.

Still, he was in a bad way
when I came upon him.

I'd beat him with a kettle
meself if I wasn't old.

It's news is all I'm sayin'.

That's no news.
That's shite news.

Okay, so, Mrs. O'Riordan,
thanks for the...

I'll see ya when I see ya.

And you can tell
that skitter of a son of mine

he'd better be home
by teatime,

or it's over to batter
the both of ye I'll be,

and your dreary
fecking sister, too!

Oh, hello there, Colm.

Will I see you at Jonjo's tonight
for that pint you owe me?

I owe you no pin...

You will, Peadar.

Good man yourself.

Whoa, stand.

Stand.

What's that, Jenny?

Will we go to the pub
for ourselves?

We will. Come on.

One drink you're havin', lady,
then it's off home with ya.

I've a shirt that
wants ironing for the morning.

Okay, Daddy.

Aye. Off to the mainland
in the morning I'm headin'.

That's why I need
the clean shirt, like.

"And why are you off to the
mainland in the mornin', Peadar?"

Oh, thanks for asking, Colm.
I'll tell ya why.

They've asked
for extra manpower

for a couple of the
executions

in case there's
any kind of a to-do, like.

Six bob and a free lunch
they're payin' me.

And sure I'd have gone
for nothin'.

I've always wanted to see an execution,
haven't you?

Although, I'd have
preferred a hanging.

Who are they executin'?

The Free State lads are executin'
a couple of the IRA lads.

Or is it the other way around?

I find it hard
to follow these days.

Wasn't it so much easier when
we was all on the same side,

and it was just the English
we was killin'?

I think it was.
I preferred it.

But you don't care
who's executin' who?

For six bob and a free lunch,
I don't care!

They could be
executin' you.

Why don't you come with me?

You could write a miserable feckin'
song about it.

Nah, I'm only messin'.

Who are them?

Music students, I think,
from Lisdoonvarna.

Another whisky,
anyways, Jonjo.

Jeez, you're goin'
at it at a fair old lick tonight, Padraic.

Yeah? What's it to ya?

Padraic, don't now...

Go get Siobhan,
Dominic, would ya?

What are you after, gobshite?

Another beatin', is it?

You, copper, I'm allowed
to chat to you, aren't I?

It's just tubbyguts
I'm not allowed to talk to.

Actually, no, I'd rather
you didn't talk to me neither.

Oh, well, anyways,

do you want to know what the
three things that I hate the most

on Inisherin is? Not really.

One,

policemen.

Two,

pudgy fiddle players.

And three...

Wait, I had some funny thing
for three. What was it?

Uh, I'll start again. One, um,

policemen.

Two...

Pudgy fiddle players.

Pudgy fiddle players.

And shite, what was three?

Go on back to your own gang now, Padraic.
I'm serious, now.

Serious, are ya?

And talkin' to me, are ya?

Siobhan!

Padraic's out of his brains
on whisky, and Colm's there.

You'd better come.

You, Colm Doherty,
do you know what you used to be?

No, Padraic,
what did I used to be?

Nice!

You used to be nice!

Didn't he not?

And now,
do you know what you are?

Not nice.

Ah, well,

I suppose niceness doesn't last then,
does it, Padraic?

But will I tell ya something
that does last?

What? And don't say
somethin' stupid like music.

Music lasts. Knew it!

And paintings last.
And poetry lasts.

So does niceness.

Do you know
who we remember

for how nice they was
in the 17th century?

- Who?
- Absolutely no one.

Yet we all remember
the music of the time.

Everyone, to a man,
knows Mozart's name.

Well, I don't,
so there goes that theory.

And anyway,
we're talkin' about niceness.

Not whatsisname.

My mammy, she was nice.

I remember her.

And my daddy, he was nice.
I remember him.

And my sister, she's nice.

I'll remember her.
Forever I'll remember her.

- And who else will?
- "Who else will" what?

Remember Siobhan
and your niceness?

No one will.

In 50 years' time,

no one will remember
any of us.

Yet the music of a man
who lived two centuries ago...

"Yet," he says,
like he's English.

Come home, Padraic.

I don't give a feck
about Mozart,

or Borvoven,

or any of them
funny name feckers.

I'm Padraic Suilleabhain.

And I'm nice.

Come home.

So you'd rather be friends
with this fella, would ya?

A fella who

beats his own son
black and blue every night

that he's not fiddling
with him.

I never told him that, Daddy.
He's... He's just drunk now.

You used to be nice.

Or did you never used to be?

Oh, God.

Maybe you never used to be.

I'll have a word
with him, Colm.

You don't need
to do anything drastic.

He won't be
botherin' you no more.

That's a shame.

That's the most interesting
he's ever been.

I think I like him again now.

It was the 18th century,
anyway. Mozart.

Not the 17th.

Siobhan Suilleabhain!
Well, well.

I only came in for rashers,
Mrs. O'Riordan.

I've no time to talk,
I'm afraid.

Letter came for ya.

Fell open, did it?

Aye, in the heat, I suppose.

A job offer, is it?

A job offer from a library
on the mainland, is it?

Just the rashers, please, Mrs. O'Riordan.
About ten of them.

You never tell me anything!

Well, it'd crucify him,
your leaving!

Hey, no one's leaving!

Listen, I didn't
come down to chat.

I just came down to say
that all that last night

was just
the whisky talkin', Colm.

All what last night?

All whatever it was
I was sayin'.

What were you sayin'?

Uh... Yeah.
I can't remember much of it,

but I remember the gist
of it wasn't the best.

You always know, don't ya?

Well, anyways, I just wanted
to say I was sorry.

Will we leave it at that?

Why can't you just
leave me alone, Padraic?

Huh?

I've already told ya,
haven't I?

Yeah, I know. I was just...

I mean, why can't you
just leave me alone?

What are ya doing? I don't know.

For fuck's sake, like.

How... How's the new tune?

What?

Ar, for God's sake, Padraic.

How many more times?

I am not putting me donkey
outside when I am sad, okay?

Well, stringy bits of shite
I had to pick up

yesterday when ya let her in!

There was no stringy bits
in that donkey's shite.

There was bits of straw,
if there was anything.

Maybe it was straw, so.

I'll get us
our porridge.

Was I awful last night?

No, you was lovely.

Well, I know I wasn't lovely
now, Siobhan.

You were lovely.
About me, anyways.

Of course
I was lovely about you.

What else is there
to be about ya?

What was that? A bird?

What was what?

The bang at the door.

A bird?

Aye. No.

What was it, so?

The bang at the door? Aye!

What was the bang
at the door?

It was, uh...

hard to lie...

it was, uh...

a finger.

A what?

Finger.

Jesus, Siobhan!
You'll frighten the little fella!

Throw it out, Padraic!

I'm not throwing his finger out!
It'll get dirt on it!

Where... Where'd you put it?

Shoebox.

Oh, my. Oh, God.

Well,

he's serious, then.

Do we have to have it in here
while we're eating?

Once I finish me porridge,
I'll bring it back to him.

Are you feckin' stupid?

I mean,
are you feckin' stupid?

No, I'm not feckin' stupid.
We've had this discussion.

You've got to leave him
alone now, Padraic. For good!

Do you think?

Do I think? Yeah, I do think!

He's cut his feckin' finger off,
and thrown it at ya!

Come on! It wasn't at me.

Well, what are we going to do?

We can't keep a man's finger.

Jesus, Colm!

Did it hurt?

Hurt awful to begin with.
Thought I was going to faint.

It's funny, feels fine now,
in all the excitement.

Would you like a cup of tea?

I won't, Colm. I only came up
to give you your finger back.

Oh, yeah?

Thanks.

Cleared up
quite nice, actually.

And you wouldn't
have thought it would.

What do you need
from him, Colm?

To end all this?

Silence, Siobhan.

Just silence.

One more silent man
on Inisherin, good-oh!

Silence it is, so.

This isn't about Inisherin.

It's about one boring man

leaving another man alone,
that's all.

"One boring man"!
You're all fecking boring!

With your piddling grievances
over nothin'!

You're all fecking boring!

I'll see he doesn't talk
to you no more.

Do.

Else it'll be all four of them
the next time, not just the one.

You're not serious.

Well, that won't help
your fecking music.

Aye.

We're gettin' somewhere now.

I think
you might be ill, Colm.

Do worry sometimes
I'm just entertaining meself

while I stave off
the inevitable.

Don't you?

No, I don't.

Yeah, you do.

Declan!

Howdo!

Howdo!

Do you want a ride?

I will so.

Thanks, fella!

Oh, no, you're not that student
fella from Lisdoonvarna, are ya?

I am. I'm Declan.

Why?

They told me at the post
office to try to find

that student fella, Declan,
from Lisdoonvarna.

Yeah, a telegram came for ya.

From your mammy.

My mammy is no longer with us.

Not your mammy, sorry.

Did I say your mammy?
Your auntie. Yeah, your auntie.

It's about your daddy.

What about Daddy?

Uh, bread van
crashed into him.

The bread van? Yeah.

They said you'd best hurry home to him,
lest he should die all alone.

Die?

Or get worse, all alone.

This is impossible.

It's not impossible.

Bread vans crash
into people all the time.

I know!

That's how me mammy died.

If it's the same fecking
bread van, I'll kill them.

Thanks.

What were you talking
to the boat fella for?

For none of your fecking
business, I think it was.

Of course, it's me business.
Aren't I the law?

Fecking knob.

Huh?

Well, you can tell
that whiny brother of yours

I'll be around soon
for that battering I owe him.

A battering?

That'd be good, actually.
It might take him out of himself.

Huh?

You're an awful strange lady.

No wonder no one likes ya.

Oh.

Hello there, Mrs. McCormick.

A death shall come to Inisherin
afore the month is out.

A death, huh?

Maybe even two deaths.

Well, that'd be sad.

We shall pray to the Lord

'tis neither you, nor poor Siobhan,
will be either of them.

Well, is that a nice thing
to be sayin'?

I wasn't trying to be nice.

I was trying to be accurate.

Fecking hell.

What's the matter?

Nothing.

Me daddy say
he's gonna kill you Sunday

for spilling the beans
about that fiddling with me.

"Kill me," kill me,
or, you know,

"beat me up a bit," kill me?

"Beat you up a bit," kill ya,
I think.

Although he did
kill a man once.

I'm sorry for that spilling
the beans on ya, Dominic.

I was out of order that night.

You was funny
apart from that bit.

That's why I don't understand why that
fat fella threw the finger at ya.

He seemed fine
when you were slagging him.

He did not.

Did he?

"That's the most interesting
Padraic's ever been," he said.

"I think I like him
again now."

Aye.

Maybe this whole thing has just been
about gettin' you to try a new tack,

start standin' up
for yourself a bit.

Do you think?

Yeah, and be less of a,
you know,

whiny little dull-arse.

Well, I have been less of a whiny
little dull-arse, actually.

Have ya, yeah?

Just yesterday,
there was this musician fella

that Colm was
getting along great with.

And what did I do?

I went and sent him
packing from the island.

Did ya? How?

I told him a bread van
crashed into his daddy,

and he'd have to be rushing
home to him, lest he die.

Oh...

That sounds like the meanest
thing I've ever heard.

Huh?

Well, aye,
it was a bit mean, but...

he'll be fine
once he gets home

and he finds his daddy hasn't
been hit by a bread van.

I used to think
you were the nicest of them.

Turns out you're just
the same as them.

I am the nicest of them.

Ar, Dominic, now!

Well, maybe I'm not
a happy lad, so!

Maybe this is the new me!

Aye.

Maybe this is the new me.

Howdo!

Jesus Christ, Dominic!

Would you ever stop
creeping up on people?

You almost gave me
a fecking heart attack!

I wasn't creeping up on ya.

I was sidling up on ya.

Between you
and that ghoul, Jesus!

I always call her a ghoul,
too, because she is a ghoul.

Jeez, we have a lot in common, don't we?
Me and you.

Calling old people
ghouls and that.

It's a great old lake,
isn't it?

I'm glad
I caught you, actually.

Because there was somethin'
I was wantin' to ask ya, actually.

And discovering how much
we have in common,

well, it just makes me
want to ask you even more.

We don't have
anything in common.

Uh, don't skip ahead.

But yeah, what I was wantin'
to ask you was...

Somethin' along
the lines of...

Should've planned
this, really.

Well, yeah, what I was wantin'
to ask you was...

You probably wouldn't
ever want to, I don't know,

to fall in love with a boy
like me, would ya?

Oh, Dominic,
I don't think so, love.

No, yeah, no.
Uh, I was thinking no.

Not even in the future, like?
Like when I'm your age?

Yeah, no, I didn't think so.

Just thought I'd ask
on the off chance, you know,

like, "faint heart" and that.

Well, there goes that dream.

Well,

I best go over there and do whatever that
thing over there I was gonna do was.

Mm-hmm.

♪♪ I walked from Mallow Town

♪♪ To Aghadoe, Aghadoe

♪♪ I took his head
from the jail gate to Aghadoe

Come on, Sammy,
you have to dance too.

♪♪ Like an Irish king he sleeps
in Aghadoe ♪♪

How are you, fatty?

Dancing with your dog, is it?

Well, who else
is gonna dance with ya?

Your poor dog
has no say in the matter.

And if you're too rude
to be offering me a seat,

I'll be taking
one of me own accord!

Now, how's that
for an old hello?

Have you gone fecking mental?

Have I gone fecking mental?

No, I haven't gone
fecking mental, actually.

Not only have I not gone
fecking mental,

but I have ten fingers to prove
I've not gone fecking mental.

How many fingers do you have to prove
you've not gone fecking mental?

Nine fingers.

And nine fingers
is the epitome of mental.

That's right. The epitome!

Heh. There'll be none of that!
I didn't come here for licks!

I came here
for the opposite of licks.

What's the opposite of licks?

Huh?

What did you come here for?

I didn't come here
for anythin', did I?

I just came to kick your door
in and give you a slagging.

Well, you've done that,
so you can go now.

Haven't finished yet, have I?

Well, I finished
with your door.

I haven't finished
with your slagging.

We were doin'
so well, Padraic.

I wasn't doing so well.

I was doing terrible.

All right,
I was doin' so well.

Yeah, well, it can't all be
you, you, you, can it?

Yes, it can.

There's two of us in this. No, there isn't.

It takes two to tango.

I don't want to tango.

Well, you danced
with your dog.

Talkin' of tangos,
how's your new tune comin' along?

I just
finished it, actually.

Just this morning.

No, Colm, that's great, like!

That's why I was dancing
with me dog.

I don't usually dance
with me dog.

There's no harm
dancin' with your dog.

I'd dance with me donkey
if I knew how. And she did.

Is it good?

Your tune?

Mm, what's it called?

"The Banshees of Inisherin,"
I was thinking.

But there are no banshees
on Inisherin.

I know, I just like
the double S-H sounds.

Aye.

There's plenty
of double S-H on Inisherin.

Yeah.

Maybe there are banshees, too.

I just don't think that they
scream to portend death anymore.

I think they just
sit back, amused, and observe.

Portend?

Yeah.

I keep having thoughts about
playing it for you at your funeral.

But that wouldn't be fair
on either of us, would it?

Well, that's great that you
finished your tune, Colm.

That's more than great.

That's...

really great.

So, do you want
to meet me down the pub, Colm?

We could celebrate
your tune, like.

Only if you'd like, like.

But I could run up ahead.
Order them in.

Why don't you
do that, Padraic?

Why don't I run up...

and order them?

Well, I will so.

Jeez, that went well!
And maybe on the way,

I can find that student friend
of yours, that Declan fella!

I told him his daddy was dying,
so he'd feck off home

and leave us alone,
but there's no need now!

Sure he could join us.

What are you sitting over
there for when I'm over here?

Just thought I'd have a sit
for meself, you know.

Wait for me friend.

Are you fecking joking me?

Your four-fingered friend?

I mean,
are you fecking joking me?

No, I'm not fecking joking ya.

He just needed
a bit of tough love was all.

Siobhan, do you want a sherry?

No. Righty-ho.

What are you doin'?

Me? Yes, you.

Nothing. Just drinkin'.

Not waitin'? Not waitin'.

Well, he is waitin', Siobhan.
He's waitin' for Colm Doherty.

I amn't waitin'.

He just told me
he was waitin'.

Telltale!

Come home with me, Padraic.
I've somethin' to discuss with ya.

You've somethin'
to discuss with me?

That sounds, uh...

I don't want
to discuss somethin'.

Well, ya have to,
'cause I'm leavin'.

Leavin'?

Like leavin'?

Like...

not staying?

Yeah.

But what about me?

What about you?

I'll have no friends
at all left!

You'll have Dominic. Ah here!

And he's gone off me now, too.

What kind of a place is it when
the village gom goes off ya?

And who's gonna
do the cookin'?

Oh, that's your first question, isn't it?
"Who's gonna do the cookin'?"

Well, it wasn't me
first question, was it?

"But what about me?"
was me first question.

Padraic.

Padraic!

Now?
But you can't be leavin' now!

I can be leavin' now.

I can't be waitin' round
for any more of this madness!

What the hell
did you say to him, Padraic?

Nothin' really.

Well, I'd sort of had a chat
with Dominic earlier.

And a new sort of,

you know, standin' up for meself sort
of tack we thought I should try.

God!

It was all going fine until he
chopped off all his fingers.

Me books wouldn't fit.

Would you look
after them for me?

Ar, don't go, Siobhan.

They're all I have, really.

Apart from the obvious.

You'll be back soon,
won't you, Siobhan?

Oh, Padraic!

Don't say, "Oh, Padraic."

Say yes.

Ah, Jenny.

Oh.

I don't want to talk.

Don't go killin' his dog now.

And don't be puttin' things
in me head

that weren't there
in the first feckin' place,

you feckin' nutbag!

"Nutbag!"

What would I ever
hurt you for?

You're the only nice thing
about him.

How are you, Padraic?
You're lookin' well.

That's lovely, lads.

I don't need your apologies,
all right?

It's a relief to me.

So, let's just call it quits

and agree to go our separate ways,
for good this time.

Your fat fingers
killed me little donkey today.

So, no, we won't
call it quits.

We'll call it the start.

You're jokin' me. Yeah, no.

I'm not jokin' ya.

So tomorrow, Sunday,

God's day, around 2:00,

I'm going to call up to your house
and I'm gonna set fire to it,

and hopefully
you'll still be inside it.

But I won't be checkin'
either way.

Just be sure
and leave your dog outside.

I've nothing against that gom.

Or you can do whatever's
in your power to stop me.

To our graves
we're taking this.

To one of our graves, anyways.

Here.

I've a bone to pick
with you, dreary.

Is that little gobshite
of mine at your place again?

Leave him, Peadar.
His donkey's just died.

Did he?

The little miniature fella?

Well, Jesus, boys,
I'll tell ya this much...

Two o'clock.

I killed a miniature donkey.

It was by accident...

but I do feel bad about it.

Do you think God gives a damn
about miniature donkeys, Colm?

I fear he doesn't.

And I fear that's where
it's all gone wrong.

Is that it?

Is what it?

Aren't you forgetting
a couple of things?

No, I think I've covered it.

Wouldn't you say
punching a policeman is a sin?

Ah here.

If punching a policeman
is a sin,

we may as well just
pack up and go home.

And self-mutilation is a sin.

It's one of the biggest.

Is it?

Self-mutilation,
so you have me there.

Multiplied by five.

How's the despair?

It's back a bit.

But you're not gonna
do anything about it?

I'm not gonna
do anything about it, no.

Dear Padraic,

I am safely ensconced in the mainland and,
Padraic, it's lovely here.

There's a river running
past my window as I write,

and the people already seem
less bitter and mental.

I'm not sure why, but I think it's
'cause a lot of them are from Spain.

Mostly, I wanted to say there's a
spare bed here for you, Padraic.

And with the war almost over,
I think there'd be work for ya here.

Because there's nothing
for you on Inisherin.

Nothing but more
bleakness and grudges

and loneliness and spite

and the slow passing of time
until death.

And sure,
you can do that anywhere.

So come, Padraic. Leave there.

Dominic can look after Jenny
and the rest of your animals.

They could move
into the house together.

Hut!

So come now,
Padraic, please.

Before it's all too late.

Dear Siobhan.

Obviously, I don't know
what "ensconced" is,

but I thank you for the offer of
the free bed and the whatnot.

But I won't be takin' you up
on it, I'm afraid.

As I told you,
me life is on Inisherin.

Me friends, me animals.

Even now as I write,

little donkey Jenny
is looking at me, saying,

"Please don't go, Padraic.
We'd miss ya."

And nuzzling me,
the gilly-gooly.

Get off, Jenny.

Psst!

In other news,

in sadder news, actually,

I won't be able to ask Dominic
anything, I'm afraid.

Because they found him
in the lake this morning.

I suppose he must've slipped
and fell in.

So, there'd be no one to take
care of the animals, anyway.

No other news, really.

Except that
I love you, Siobhan.

And I miss ya.

And I hope I'll see ya
again someday.

If you ever come back home.

Come back home, Siobhan.

Yours sincerely,
your loving brother...

Padraic Suilleabhain.

Suppose me house
makes us quits.

If you'd stayed in your house,
that would've made us quits.

But you didn't, did ya,
so it doesn't, does it?

I'm sorry
about your donkey, Padraic.

Honestly, I am.

I don't fucking care.

Haven't heard any rifle fire from
the mainland in a day or two.

I think they're coming
to the end of it.

I'm sure they'll be at it again soon enough,
aren't you?

Some things
there's no movin' on from.

And I think
that's a good thing.

Padraic.

Thanks for lookin' after me dog for me,
anyways.

Any time.