Fourteen years after In Bruges, Brendan Gleeson and Colin Farrell have teamed up again for another of Martin McDonagh's mini-masterpieces.
It's Father Ted, done as an exercise in edgy melancholy and existential despair.
Nobody, neither man nor God, cares about 'nice' (nor indeed, little donkeys) becomes the underlying anxiety in this tale of stalled male bonding.
Few mainstream movies released this year will have quite the same power to convert even the dullest members of its audience into inadvertent 'thinkers'.
V was a little less impressed than I was, but then a) Irish landscapes do nothing for her and b) she’s usually a bit less existentially fragile than I can be, and c) she dozed off during the crucial donkey scenes.
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