I, like many others, was introduced to John Donne’s famed statement “No man is an island” as part of the philosophical musings of the 2002 film About a Boy. In the film, Hugh Grant’s character, aptly named Will Freeman, critiques Donne’s phrase and highlights that, in isolation and separation, people can function quite happily. Spoiler alert: by the film’s close, Freeman recognises that his rejection of the phrase was wrong and true disconnection within society is impossible; ultimately, we are all interconnected and responsible for one another. Now, I do not believe that John Donne had scribed such a statement with the intention of it becoming the crux of a noughties British film, nor that it would be the emancipatory epiphany that would reshape the narrative of an archetypal Hugh Grant character. But I do believe that Donne intended to make people question their place within society.
The phrase itself, ironically, doesn’t exist independently. It belongs to Donne’s 'Meditation XVII'; a short, thirteen-line poetic rumination where Donne unpicks dense, philosophical ideas for the sake of clarity. Donne’s use of an extended metaphor, to compare society to a land mass, is crucial because it delivers two significant messages: firstly, that humanity is bound to be connected and therefore without separation, and secondly, that despite our differences, whether they be geographical or cultural, our similarities are greater. The significance of Donne’s words lies not only in their attention to the universal, but also in their ability to address the personal, prompting us to question our differences and doubts. If anything, Donne argues that we are responsible for our immediate surroundings because we exist as part of something greater than ourselves.
No man is an island,
Entire of itself;
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less,
As well as if a promontory were:
As well as if a manor of thy friend’s
Or of thine own were.Any man’s death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
Despite Hugh Grant’s unquestionable charm and the boyish magnetism of a young Nicholas Hoult, About a Boy isn’t the best film to use in comparison to Donne’s emphatic words. However, Martin McDonagh’s 2022 film The Banshees of Inisherin, however, is aligned with Donne’s central ideas. Throughout McDonagh’s obscure black comedy, two adult men falling out, or "rowing", as it is frequently referred to, becomes an epic battle of small proportions. Initiated by the older, moodier fiddle player Colm (Brendan Gleeson), the fallout is shown via the lens of the dull, yet warm, Pádraic (Colin Farrell), who is perplexed at his once-friend’s sudden avoidance of him.
Via the dislocation of their friendship, McDonagh dredges up Donne’s philosophy, and identifies the consequences of self-isolation in a tight-knit community. Something that magnifies this idea is the somewhat clumsy, yet still aspirational, metaphor of the ongoing “mainland” Irish Civil War, which can be seen from the distant setting of the isle of Inisherin (which translates to the island of Ireland). Like Donne’s poem, the film situates the smaller, more specific dimensions of isolation and relationships within the metaphor of a larger, more geographical metaphor. Where we see fractures amongst the specifics of human relationships, we undoubtedly might be able to identify something more profound.

Searchlight Pictures/20th Century Studios
At first, Colm’s resistance to the continuation of his and Pádraic’s friendship is a comical rupture of a male bond, with murmurings of immaturity and miscommunication. However, for Pádraic and, eventually the other denizens of the island, the initial breakage of their bond soon creates a ripple effect of tragic consequences. Like the Civil War itself, the cessation of Pádraic and Colm’s friendship fuels further disruption and disagreement across their home. McDonagh elevates his scrutiny; due to this decoupling, the local pub becomes divided and its atmosphere muted. Colm’s avoidance of Pádraic unsettles not only their dynamic, but also the wider community.
For Colm, his decision isn’t fuelled as a means of seeking out a solitary life as such; instead, it is driven by his desire to be surrounded by “meaningful” conversation with fellow artists. His intention of shaving away his “meaningless” time with Pádraic to pursue his art is problematic, because it erases any consideration for the consequences for others. For McDonagh, the narrative exists not within the search for meaning or intention, but more so in the impacts of such rash exclusion or isolation. As Donne laments in his poem: “If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less.” This proves Donne’s suggestion that, within the intention of separation, deduction must be accounted for. Colm doesn’t consider the impact of his distancing from Pádraic, and selfishly avoids any meaningful process of decoupling. Instead, he coldly ignores Pádraic, only giving a reason when pushed for one. Colm, like the metaphorical “clod” in Donne’s poem, seeks escape, and because of this, risks lessening the stability and happiness of others. Whilst Pádraic himself isn’t “the island,” McDonagh places value upon him due to his innocent, placid self representing the ease of rural island life. He has no ambitions or intentions to go beyond the island, and because of this, Pádraic is positioned by McDonagh as a sympathetic, inactive character, a parallel to the active, self-driven Colm.
Donne’s poem reinforces the concept of human unity by exploring how an individual’s death affects others: “Any man’s death diminishes me, Because I am involved in mankind.” The verb “involved” is key here; it conveys an active, inescapable connection with humanity, suggesting that each life is intertwined with the whole. The phrase “diminishes me” deepens this idea, showing that the loss of another is not merely external but personal, lessening the collective human experience. Donne’s choice of “any man” universalises the claim, reminding us that our responsibilities and empathy extend to all, not just those we know. This single line emphasises that humans are never truly isolated; we are part of a larger social and moral fabric, where each action and absence resonates beyond the individual.
This idea is driven forward in McDonagh’s film. Beyond Pádraic and Colm’s relationship, their warring bleeds into their neighbours’ lives. Dominic (Barry Keoghan), a young man who lives a troubled existence due to his odd behaviours and the abusive domination he endures from his father (the local Garda) is saddled with a romantic obsession for Pádraic’s sister, Siobhán (Kerry Condon). Dominic retreats into obscurity by the closing act of the film, isolated from all relationships. His father abuses him; Pádraic (his only ally) disappoints him whilst he battles with Colm; and Siobhán politely rejects his advances.
Here, McDonagh uses Dominic’s character to highlight the damaging effects of separation from society, as Dominic commits suicide by drowning himself. For Siobhán, Pádraic, and Dominic’s father,seeing his body is a reminder of the responsibility we have for others. Dominic’s virtue of gentleness, in opposition to the harshness of his father and fellow islanders, reflects Donne’s own message that death not only 'diminishes' the whole, but that Dominic’s death is symptomatic of ignored collectiveness. His death reminds the audience and Pádraic of how the smaller tragedy of disenfranchisement can lead to a larger disaster, one of harm and death.
Aside from the tragedy of Dominic, the accidental passing of Pádraic’s donkey (Jenny) from choking on Colm’s self-amputated finger heightens this further, demonstrating the unnecessary fallout from Colm’s own detachment from their friendship. Whilst Colm and Pádraic’s conflict fails to break apart the island itself or inspire any wider combat, their reluctance to see how their bitterness impacts those around them engineers a grounding message: that the individual remains a part of the whole.
By the film’s close, the escalating tensions and violence erupt into both men exchanging words on the beach. Colm’s house, now a ruin because of Pádraic’s arson, symbolises the loss left behind in their wake as they agree that everything has been for nothing. Pádraic shows reluctance to amend their bond, seeing Colm’s death as the only thing that could end their disagreement. Here, their bitterness lingers, both men failing to accept that Colm’s survival should be enough. McDonagh uses this scene to reflect on the depth and decay left by their fallout, as the once kind and well-natured Pádraic finds himself wishing death upon his old friend.

The audience, because of this, fails to uncover any catharsis, instead asking themselves what the point was in all of it. Did they learn anything, or did McDonagh seek to find ruin and wreckage in what once was a positive male friendship? The film doesn’t end like Donne’s poem: “And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.” Instead, it reverses Donne’s hope that mankind could retreat from hostility and difference and instead find solace in unity. Pádraic would feel little, by this point, if Colm had died. The symbolism of funeral bells, in Donne’s lines, sounds out the irreversible consequences of division, signalling that we should seek out intentions for life rather than death for one another.
Colm and Pádraic map out their crisis by returning to the metaphor of the mainland Civil War, watching the plumes of smoke and gunfire rise across the water. Pádraic retorts to Colm’s questions of whether the war will end by saying, “Some things there’s no moving on from.” In this, McDonagh underscores the enduring consequences of isolation and fractured human connections. Unlike Donne’s meditation, which emphasises the shared responsibility we have toward one another, The Banshees of Inisherin depicts the tragic fallout when individuals ignore that responsibility. The film demonstrates that separation, whether deliberate or accidental, affects not just those directly involved, but ripples outward into the wider community, a real-world embodiment of Donne’s assertion that “any man’s death diminishes me".
By tracing this trajectory from Donne’s seventeenth-century poem to contemporary cinematic interpretations, it is clear the question of human interconnectedness remains relevant across centuries. Where About a Boy presents a comedic and ultimately redemptive exploration of Donne’s philosophy, McDonagh’s film exposes the darker consequences when that interconnectedness is neglected. Both, however, ultimately reaffirm Donne’s enduring message: no one exists in isolation, and our lives are inextricably tied to the lives of others. Returning to the idea introduced at the start, whether through Hugh Grant’s reluctant awakening or the tragic social disintegration on Inisherin, Donne’s words challenge us to recognise that our connections, responsibilities, and empathy shape not only our own lives, but the fabric of society itself. No man is truly an island; we are in this together.