In Bruges (2008)
We’ve seen so many bad hitman movies, either of the junk videogame (take your pick) or boring, self-conscious pretend its a metaphor for something to disguise its emptiness variety (Road to Perdition) that it’s forgivable that audiences would greet In Bruges, the writing-directing debut of playwright Martin McDonagh, with hesitation. In Bruges has the appearance of yet another of those pulp pictures in denial, a film that mistakes under-known location and stars for something higher than the usual business. We expect suffocating art-direction, reaching, false, over-literate dialogue, we expect to be lulled to sleep, with even worse self-gratifying conversation over dinner to follow.
In Bruges, thankfully, plays those frustrations against the audience, reaching for the next, providing we haven’t gotten there already, level of post-modernism: the post-modernist post-modernist thriller, the B movie that scores points on the B movie that pretends to score points on the B movie in hopes of being an A movie. The picture isn’t really about anything, and it has a rigid cross the T’s, dot the i’s irony that tips one off to McDonagh’s theatre background, but it’s also appealingly woolly and squirrelly, you know where it’s ultimately going, but you never know where each individual divorced from the narrative scene is headed. McDonagh takes several stock in the genre moments (the meet cute, the jealous boyfriend, the hit, the final standoff) and shakes them up and lets them loose in directions that are wilder and less polite than usual. In Bruges, in short, reminds you of why you fell for genre movies to begin with, before the inevitable repetition born of seeing too many of them set in.
The film concerns two hitmen of the traditional contrast: Ken (Brendan Gleeson) is older, experienced, worn down, respectful, doughier; Ray (Colin Farrell) is young, inexperienced, electric, sexy, buzzing all over the place. The two have just completed a job that has given them unexpected trouble and, at their boss Harry’s (Ralph Fiennes) insistence, have fled to Bruges (in Belgium) where they are to lie low until Harry contacts them. Ken, distrusting of what the Bruges trip may or may not mean, takes the city in stride and appreciates what’s in front of him while it’s in front of him; Ray, a canny gloss on Farrell’s backstage infamy, is an impatient wild man with an open disdain for Bruges, for quiet, for anything that doesn’t involve forward movement toward a buzz or a lay (he’s, to borrow Woody Allen’s reasoning from Annie Hall, a shark, only of the party variety).
The pair’s bickering, over tourism, drinking, and fucking, constitutes the entirety of the picture’s first act, and a large portion of the second: its an Odd Couple scenario, a gifted writer’s opportunity to, in addition to the genre tweaking listed above, riff on the glib self-congratulation that can be a part of sight seeing, or seeing an art film that primarily concerns itself with sight seeing. We’ve be down the bad guy ironically concerned with frivolous things highway before (Tarantino has made it practically kabuki by now) but McDonagh’s dialogue has a non-sequitur strangeness that’s intensely enjoyable, and the performances are terrific.
Brendan Gleeson is ideal for the kind of tonal tightropes that McDonagh has him walk here; as he’s a contradiction of the best sense himself. Gleeson is big, intimidating, a “tough guy” with a jolting vulnerability that’s informed by a precise intelligence and awareness. Gleeson imbues In Bruges with a pathos that, surprisingly (and this is a testament to the picture’s mood ring tonal durability) doesn’t overwhelm it; his big, open face softens and grounds the picture.
Farrell, a good actor who continually traps himself playing troubled artists’ idea of the Icon, is revelatory here: the fleeting charge of his supporting performance in Minority Report topped and sustained for the entirety of this picture. Farrell’s Ray is trickier than initial appearances may reveal: he’s entrusted to carry both the film’s “morality” and comic charge, no mean feat, but Farrell lets go, it’s a rare self-amused performance that’s audience inclusive. Farrell zigzags his eyes, twists himself in knots, punches people out, and dares everyone, including us, to reign him in. It’s a testament to McDonagh and Farell’s will that Ray, above it all, remains likable.
The picture’s final third is the only portion that carries a whiff of obligation. The Harry character, while funny and well timed by Fiennes, is derivative, warmed over Ben Kingsley from Sexy Beast. McDonagh’s imagination also disappointingly fails him, after initial promise, in the girl department. Ray’s relationship with a sexy drug dealer, Chloë (Clémence Poésy), is, at first, reckless and subversive of the usual googly eyes enchantment (they bring out the worst in each other as opposed to the expected opposite) but, by the end, the girl is just the girl, wincing at the appropriate moments. One expects something to happen with this young lady with the quick fingers and aloof come hither smile: a betrayal, a violent defense, a desertion, anything, but McDonagh doesn’t commit, the picture goes a little soft and tries life affirmation on for size instead, perhaps, like Ray, to atone for the horrible act of violence that occurs early in the picture.
Truthfully though, sentimentality might just be the ultimate subversion here, hard to tell with this corkscrew of a picture. I’m trying to be polite and not reveal too much, but the Farrell character would be the villain in most films, and you may feel guilty for cheering his survival a few hours after the lights have gone up and you’ve had time to consider what he actually did. I can’t tell if McDonagh has managed a supremely moral or just the opposite feat with that, but I applaud the ambition and discomfort. In Bruges is, essentially, just a trick, but it’s a memorable trick, an occasionally nasty movie with a little moxie.
★★★½
April 17th, 2008 at 9:22 am
The trailer for this one didn’t do it any favors…well, unless you consider trying to trick the audience into thinking it’s another Lock Stock a favor. I do not. Put it this way, the trailer didn’t do the audience any favors.
I think I enjoyed Fiennes’ Sexy Beast impression a little bit more than you, but only because the middle sagged for me and he was a breath of fresh air. I see what you’re saying though.
All in all, a nifty little hitman picture with a few tricks up its sleeve.
Smartly reviewed as well. Sometimes your intelligence comes through in ways that make me feel like a complete slouch.
That was a compliment disguised as self loathing by the way.
April 17th, 2008 at 11:23 pm
I like this film, but I like it less the further that I get from it. Too pat. And too much midget humor as a crutch. Good review, though.
April 18th, 2008 at 4:21 am
As I always I appreciate the positive reinforcement guys, now let’s get into the specifics.
Craig-I did really enjoy Fiennes, but I was just hoping for something a little different, really more of a knock on the writing (which is fine, just a bit unoriginal with this character) than Fiennes’ performance.
K-I can see that. I was fine with the midget until his final scene that triggers what happens to Fiennes. That was REALLY pat. The midget humor in general worked better than usual for me, primarily because of Farrell’s performance.
April 18th, 2008 at 1:54 pm
Wow, Chuck, this is a supremely well-written and meticulously well-rounded review. It only helps matters that you seem to be, practically point for point, with me on In Bruges. The only exception is, like Craig, by the time Fiennes showed up I was very, very pleased to see him and I found his scenery-chewing to be the best flavor of scenery-chewing I’ve tasted in a really long time.
I have to admit, Sexy Beast is a film that really hasn’t stayed with me over the seven or so years since I saw it. Perhaps I should give it another shot soon, though.
The film itself is like the midget humor wherein writ large–it should be absurdly cliched and redundant by now but it just isn’t, mainly because of the twists it’s given, Farrell’s excellent comedic performance and that it has a deceptive and important beating heart at its core.
The Mamet-in-his-prime raves for In Bruges, I think, are well earned.
April 20th, 2008 at 2:38 pm
“In Bruges, in short, reminds you of why you fell for genre movies to begin with, before the inevitable repetition born of seeing too many of them set in.”
Like that a lot. Excellent work, again.
April 22nd, 2008 at 10:56 am
Excellent review again Chuck. I found the film to be fascinating for the way it blended discordant tones and moods so effortlessly - moving from discussions of murdered children to midget jokes in the blink of an eye. I hated “Six Shooter,” McDonough’s Oscar winning short, simply because I wasn’t prepared for the strong tonic of black humor that he’s serving up. I enjoyed it more here because I was ready for it.
And agree with you completely on Farell’s performance. He needs more roles like this, and less of the Braveheartish roles he has seemed to gravitate towards. He’s too pretty to be a Maximus.
“In Bruges, thankfully, plays those frustrations against the audience, reaching for the next, providing we haven’t gotten there already, level of post-modernism: the post-modernist post-modernist thriller, the B movie that scores points on the B movie that pretends to score points on the B movie in hopes of being an A movie.”
I don’t completely follow the trail there, but brilliant observation nonetheless.
April 24th, 2008 at 12:41 pm
I wasn’t entirely sure about the tonal shifts in this one. I mean, this is really DARK dark comedy, and the earnest remorse on Ray’s part didn’t quite jell, for me, with the more surreal funny moments.
Still the performances were amazing, and it was mostly the dialogue that won me over in the end. Take for example the first date scene between Ray and Chloe: the Belgian joke is a heart-stopper, funny and as un-PC as you can get and a perfect illustration of Ray’s personality, his innocent crudeness. And then Chloe’s reaction makes it even better.
I’m not entirely convinced, especially because of the too neat ending, but one thing is certain: whatever McDonough serves up next, I’ll be watching.