IN BRUGES: Sin Stooge

This review was requested by Rafael Schneider. Many thanks to Rafael for supporting Post-Credit Coda through our Patreon.

Director: Martin McDonagh
Writer: Martin McDonagh
Cast: Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson, Ralph Fiennes, Clémence Poésy, Thekla Reuten, Jordan Prentice
Runtime: 107 mins.
2008

I have long wondered what to think about the very white, very male, very cis vulgarity that runs its tendrils through In Bruge's screenplay. The jokes are intentionally shocking in their casual malice. Writer/director Martin McDonagh intends protagonist Ray (Colin Farrell) to be a lovable hitman asshole with a heart of gold, which raises interesting questions: why are we in America so eager to condone and even celebrate physical violence in our media, but verbal violence is off the table? And can that verbal violence ever crack open our cultural norms in a cathartic way? Ray's brash ignorance lets him stumble into surprisingly honest conversations with people leading quite different lives. So we still wonder, does this screenplay excuse the violence of white men? Does it excoriate it? Or does it get at a truth deeper than purity politics allows-- the webs of contradiction at the heart of our culture that can only be confronted through perverse honesty? Ultimately, I don't know, but you don't get an onscreen discussion of the coming race war this raw and real unless you're willing to be offensive along the way.

Given the tone deaf treatment of race in Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, and the uneven meta-flailing of Seven Psychopaths, it's safe to say that McDonagh's flagrantly offensive impulses only work some of the time. In Bruges is the pinnacle of the McDonagh style on film. One of the screenplay's best tricks is that each time a character delivers an offensive or inhumane joke, the movie makes a point of weaving tragedy into the joke's callback. What once struck us as humor in ill taste takes on a surprising resonance when it leads to a real relationship, a moment of intimacy, or a horrifying misunderstanding.

McDonagh is writing about flawed people, broken murderers. Ray's attitudes about others are callous, but so are his feelings about himself. The slow reveal of the way Ray masks his own pain with childish lashing out offers a keen character study. It's also a smart foil for the warmth and soulfulness of Ray's partner in assassinry, Ken (Brendan Gleeson). This is a story about condemnation, redemption, and purgatory. It's also a riproaring comedy.

The film opens with images of the gargoyles and canals of Bruges. It's a bit like watching a vacation slideshow, a vibe offset by the melancholy music and Gothic architecture. This somber procession is interrupted by some of McDonagh's signature cheeky dialogue, a tonal rupture that introduces us to the push-pull between laughs and languor that makes this movie hum. Bruges is calming, despite the omnipresence of the terrors of history. As Ray puts it, Bruges is 'nothing but a load of stuff that's already happened.' This is reflected in the uneventfulness of the first act, which is mostly Ray and Ken sightseeing. The film starts claustrophobic before opening out in some exciting ways.

These things we're discussing--tonal jumps, pacing, tragicomic callbacks--are so easy to screw up. The balancing act would fall apart if McDonagh's intricate screenplay were handed to another director. McDonagh films dialogue so well that we can almost always find something relatable amidst the vulgarity. A surprising insight, a microgesture. McDonagh also boasts an exceptional ability to work with his actors; even the most mundane exchanges are pregnant with layers of meaning that we can observe, dissect, or infer. McDonagh's visual sense isn't restricted to dialogue, though. Far from it. So many wordless moments stick with you long after watching. I'm thinking of Ken looking out at Bruges from the top of an old tower; he stares down the sights of a finger gun, aiming at the antlike tourists, then with a slight puff of exhalation... he fires. An quiet, playful, sinister gesture.

In Bruges has a flair for the macabre that's never veers too far away from the fun. The longest, most drawn out gag in the film involves Ken talking to his boss on the phone, pretending that Ray is present in the apartment, relaying messages to someone who isn't there, walking back and forth playacting like he's watching Ray leave to go bowling. We are lulled by the rhythm of the gag, which sets its tragic punchline up to smack us across the face. Their boss Harry (Ralph Fiennes) is also a killer, you see, and a recent botched assassination has made Ray into a liability.

Harry's gradual incursion into the film as de facto villain is also a beautiful piece of artistic restraint. At first we learn of him by mention, then we get a delightfully sweary written message, then a voice, and finally (on the cusp of the third act no less!) a face. McDonagh understands that story elements should only be introduced into a narrative when they become relevant. Harry's sudden involvement feels like a violation, an inevitability, a fracture, a myth.

I'm at a loss for how to properly end a review of In Bruges. It's a film so rich in all of its facets that a critic is tempted to simply recite a laundry list of its merits. It may be a bit of a no-no in film criticism, but I'm going to go ahead and list the laundry.

The score is haunting. The visuals are gorgeous, precise, always in service of Story above all else. The dialogue is crackling on the page, and divine on the screen. The acting is career-best from several top notch performers. The structure is innovative, but never at the expense of dramatic clarity. The personalities are iconic. The existential plight is devastating. And the sometimes-rude-sometimes-heartbreaking treatment of The Honor of Men feels fresh and multifaceted. In Bruges is a story of white men that actually succeeds as a story specifically about white men, and the violent codes they live by, and all the psychosocial crud that accumulates after a life of patriarchal misdeeds that will not release you from their grip.

4.5 / 5  BLOBS