Against all established, conventional wisdom, In Bruges manages to be a blast of cinematic fresh air, a marriage of shocking violence and hilarious, dark comedy that takes the traditional British gangster movie and refashions it into something outrageously original. If Monty Python made a black, shoot-‘em-up satire, this is what it would look and sound like.
After a botched assassination, hit men Ray (Colin Farrell) and Ken (Brendan Gleeson) are ordered by their London boss, Harry (Ralph Fiennes) to cool their heels for a few weeks in Bruges (“It’s in Belgium”) until he calls to tell them it’s safe to return. Harry thinks they shouldn’t be happier; in his mind, Bruges is the sort of Disneyesque storybook Flemish city in which anyone would love finding themselves. But while Ken is more than happy to bask in the serenity of the gothic architecture, canals, cobbled streets and art museums, Ray goes slowly stir crazy. If he’s not sulking, he’s complaining. Haunted by the inadvertent bloodshed of his first assignment, Ray sees nothing good about their medieval prison.
The longer they wait for Harry’s call, the more surreal their experience becomes. Soon, they find themselves entangled with belligerent tourists, anti-American sentiment, macabre medieval art, racist midget actors (Jordan Prentice), and a beautiful drug dealer named Chloë (Clémence Poésy). When Harry’s call finally comes, the duo’s compulsory vacation becomes a life-and-death struggle of darkly comic proportions and unexpectedly poignant consequences.
English playwright and director Martin McDonagh, who won an Oscar last year for his short film Six Shooter, deftly mixes humor and pathos in this, his first feature film. In Bruges, which opened the Sundance Film Festival, is one of the best written and most quotable things you’re bound to see all year. The rapid-fire, staccato, rat-tat-tat of Farrell and Gleeson’s give and take brings the odd couple relationship of Pulp Fiction’s Vincent and Jules to mind, and reminds one of McDonagh’s linguistic expertise as a playwright.
The cast is wonderful, drawn from among Britain’s most esteemed and beloved actors. Gleeson, always first rate, gives a terrific, nuanced performance as a wise father figure to Ray’s impetuous, emotional imbalance. Farrell chucks his tough guy image for his best performance in a long time, a part suffused with off-color, profane hilarity and raw emotional anguish. And Fiennes, wrapping his mouth around a low-class accent we’ve never before heard him attempt, steals the show, equal parts villain and clown. Nearly unrecognizable, his face is all sharp angles and looks as if it could cut glass.
In Bruges never loses its sense of humor, even when interrupted by moments of profound violence. The ironic climax, difficult as it may be for some to accept, is just another example of existential angst masquerading as a punch line.
© Copyright 2008 Brandon Fibbs. All rights reserved.
