In Bruges
Acclaimed for his theatre work, writer/director Martin McDonagh now brings his brilliant mix of the absurd and macabre to the big screen in this exhilarating comic thriller.
Brendan Gleeson and Colin Farrell play two chalk-and-cheese Dublin hitmen who are sent to the medieval Belgian town of Bruges after a job in London goes horribly wrong. Ray (Farrell) is a hot-headed novice who has no thoughts for anywhere but Dublin. He rather shot himself in the foot when he accidentally killed a young child on his first hit along with the priest who was his target. Ken (Gleeson) is a kindly, avuncular figure, keen to make the most of a couple of days’ sightseeing in “the best-preserved medieval town in Belgium”.
The pair work for Harry (Ralph Feinnes), an Essex crime boss with a short fuse, who for the first two thirds of the movie we hear only over the telephone. His initial instructions to the pair are that they simply lie low and admire the beautiful medieval architecture. Rather than a flashy hotel, the two have been given a double room in a quaint, family-run B&B. For a couple of days at least they must wander round aimlessly together, exasperated by the fact that they have been sent hide out in this epicentre of northern European dullness. What was wrong with Croydon? The answer, it transpires, is that while the priest was legitimate, “blowing a kid’s head off just isn’t done.”
Christmassy Bruges is pretty as a picture - so much so that you’ll want to hop across the channel on the next available train - but what the city really does is bring out the distinct characters of the unlikely pair. Whilst Ken is perfectly contented traipsing round art exhibitions, canals and ghoulish medieval statues, Ray can’t think of anything worse. “Maybe that’s what hell is: the entire rest of eternity spent in Bruges,” he muses. When Ken suggests climbing the old bell tower “for the view”, Ray argues “why do I have to climb up there to see down here? I’m already down here.” He is equally unimpressed by the blood of Jesus, some drops of which are allegedly preserved in one of Bruges’ towering medieval churches. Sullenly asking if he “has to” go up to touch the blood which is “what you do”, Ken is evidently exasperated. “Do you have to? Of course you don’t have to. It’s Jesus’ f***ing blood, isn’t it?”. But when Ray stumbles across a film set he’s thrilled to bits.
In Bruges is high on the slapstick, and good taste is never allowed to get in the way of some good belly laughs. Jordan Prentice’s drugged-up midget is ribbed in every scene in which he appears; elephantine Americans collapse after a 30-second run; characters fall from buildings with an unholy splat; and an interfering ex-boyfriend goes blind. But McDonagh also excels at the observational comedy, bringing out the dull provincialism of Bruges, the paradox of hitmen with morals, and the endearing and believable quirks of each character. Indeed, the script offers moments of great poignancy and sadness, in which Ray and Ken wrestle with the guilt of their past and the potential terrors of the afterlife which confront them in every gallery and minster.
Back from Hollywood no-man’s land, Colin Farrell positively shines. Always ready with a quip, he shifts between sullen, gleeful, positively romantic, heartbreakingly sad, lonely and vulnerable, and he must surely have the best eyebrows in the business. Gleeson, the father figure of the double act, is a bad guy with a heart of gold. He is the perfect foil for Farrell, simultaneously despairing of, and caring for, his troubled, trigger-happy sidekick. Ralph Feinnes is marvelous as the grouchy crime boss, barking orders down the phone at inopportune moments (”is he having a wee or a poo?”).
In Bruges is a hilarious take on the British gangster movie - very dark, very gory and full of surprises.
