.: Roberts' Reviews - Movie Reviews :.

Review by Mike Lippert

During my co-op placement for the Hanover Post in grade 12 I was able to accompany one of the reporters on an interview with the then general manager of the Hanover Racetrack. The man expressed his happiness toward the local Paramount Theater for showing Seabiscuit, which made horseracing look thrilling, thus prompting people to make their way to the track out of pure interest. In Bruges might very well do exactly the same for Bruges itself. The film helpfully informs us that Bruges is the most well preserved medieval city in Belgium, a country that main character Ray (Colin Farrell) even more helpfully informs, is known for two things: chocolate and child abuse, the first making it easier to find candidates for the second.

In Bruges is the writing and directorial debut of Martin McDonagh and is a film that talks in a way that will inevitably, if maybe unfairly, be referred to as Tarintinoesque, as if all contemporary crime films are to be weighed under the scrutiny of Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs. Although, many Tarintino jockeys maybe don't realize that Tarintino himself owes everything he knows about dialogue to American's most singular crime novelist Elmore Leonard (who's Rum Punch provided the foundation for Tarintino's Jackie Brown).

Alas, In Bruges plays like an adaptation to the best book Leonard never wrote: it's funny, sexy, quick witted, violent, has a keen ear for the small nuances in the way people converse and most of all, allows us access to one of the most forbidden of emotions in the crime movie repertoire: genuine remorse. To watch it is to get the sense of a great storyteller being born.

The story focuses on two hit men who are sent to hide out in Bruges for a couple of weeks after a botched job. Ray (Colin Farrell) is young and rowdy, not impressed by much and not shy about letting anyone within earshot know. The highlight of Ray's trip, with the beautiful views, ancient architecture and exotic cannel rides? Seeing a Belgium movie being filmed which stars a midget. On top of a general lack of disregard for the city, Ray also travels with a heavy heart. On his first hit, he was sent to off a priest but ended up accidently killing an innocent boy in the process, leaving him riddled with guilt and thoughts of suicide.

Ray's babysitter is Ken (Brendan Gleeson of the Harry Potter films) who is older, wiser, and more optimistic, wanting to make the best of their stay in Bruges by seeing the sights and taking in the culture. The dynamic of their entire journey is summed up in a great sequence where Ken climbs a tower overlooking a courtyard, admiring the beauty of the view, while Ray sits on a bench and helpfully informs a group of overweight tourists not to bother with the tower; it's full of narrow winding staircases after all. "What do you mean by that?" asks the man. "Well, you're a bunch of elephants," Ray replies.

While all of this conspires, the question in the back of Ray's mind is: why Bruges? Ken assures him that it must be cover for an upcoming job. They will wait until they receive the call from their psychotic boss Harry (Ralph Fiennes) with word on what their next move will be.

Part of the joy of In Bruges is how well it gives the allusion of descending the generic restraints of the crime film. It is funny when it needs to be (which is often), delicate when it needs to be, and action packed when it needs that too.

The brilliance of McDonagh's script is that it provides us with the pleasant sensation of not watching caricatures or types, but rather of having dropped in on a couple of guys whose company we enjoy being in. These aren't the hard men we are used to from typical European crime films; the men of Sexy Beast, who conduct themselves with style and attitude. These are the guys who sit on the park benches of the world, discussing whether or not a bottle is considered deadly enough a weapon to warrant shooting the man coming at you with it.

McDonagh also has the uncanny ability of knowing exactly how to calibrate a scene for all it is worth, observing every detail of human behavior, allowing laugh-out-loud hilarity to effortlessly evaporate into affecting pathos with the blink of an eye. The film thusly never feels self-congratulatory of self-indulgent. McDonagh constructs these characters from the ground up; allowing them a natural human dimension. They laugh, they cry, they swear, they kill people, and then weigh the cosmic significance of their actions. Watch the way Ken stops to view the courtyard from the top of the tower as if through the view of a sniper rifle; the funny way Harry demands an apology from Ken who has slandered his kids while continuing the insult; or the way Ray responds to a man who he has just blinded by firing a blank into his eyes, making for one of the film's biggest laughs.

Of course half the battle is finding the perfect actors who can be congenial and amusing without sentimentalizing or becoming a parody of themselves. In Brendan Gleeson we find a wise man that uses his heart and his conscience first and his gun second. Colin Farrell naturally slips into the role of Ray, the snotty kid who refuses to grow up; living under the belief that life revolves around a good shag and an even better pint. I suspect, probably in that order. The performance reminds us of what a great actor Farrell can be when dealt an intimate character role; his personal ticks and subtly realized moments of non-verbal communication calling to mind the effortlessness of a young Brando. And Ralph Fiennes plays Harry in that perfect evil way villains should be played; going just over-the-top enough that any more and the performance would fall into parody.

At the end of the day In Bruges isn't going to change anyone's life, and just like gleefully indulging in the best work of Tarintino or Elmore Leonard, we don't want it to. It is, above all, an exercise in style and wit, of actors having fun playing characters who talk in that sort of mundane ironic way that we expect they would really talk in, of excitement, suspense, action, bloodshed and the subtle realization that life is more complex than it appears to be. And, as an example of the crime genre, it's just about perfect.