It's been nearly 15 years since Martin McDonagh made his feature directorial debut with In Bruges, a neat, nasty little gem of a movie about two bungling hitmen (Colin Farrelland Brendan Gleeson) on the lam — and not doing it well — in Belgium. The Banshees of Inisherin reunites him with his two leading men in a film that turns out to be pretty much the furthest thing from a sequel to Bruges, but still feels like a kind of homecoming nonetheless. And a testament, too, to how they've each evolved as artists: A prolific playwright whose last screen outing, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, won Oscars for both Frances McDormand and Sam Rockwell, McDonagh has always been known for his particular brand of bleak existential comedy. Tar-black, bloody, and tinged with the surreal, it can also come off as ruthless, even casually cruel. Inisherin, though, feels like his most humane and deeply felt offering to date — which says a lot about a movie rife with blasphemy, self-mutilation, and miniature donkeys — and the actors here respond accordingly with some of the richest, most fully realized performances of their careers.