SusannahIN BRUGES
May 24th 2009 04:31
In Bruges
Directed by Martin McDonagh
Starring Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson, Ralph Fiennes, Clemence Poesy, Jordan Prentice.
Following a hit that goes disastrously wrong, two professional killers are banished to the tiny medieval town of Bruges, where they are instructed by their borderline psychotic and potty-mouthed boss to lie low and await further instructions. In case you’re wondering, Bruges is in Belgium. Problem is they are not the best at keeping a low profile and behaving like tourists. The older of the two – Ken (played with subtlety and style by the always great Brendan Gleeson), is enchanted by the narrow cobbled streets and winding canals. He really wants to see the sights, touch a vial of Jesus’ blood, that sort of thing. Ray (a delightfully dim and wounded Colin Farrell) just wants to go down to the pub, or to romance a drug-dealer, or perhaps just to spend time with a ketamine-abusing midget who rambles about coming race wars when he’s had too much cocaine.
Then their boss (Ralph Fiennes, channelling Ben Kingsley in Sexy Beast with hilarious results) calls with information about the next target.
Now, I’m no great fan of this genre of film-making, and I am well sick of all that whole Guy Ritchie Cockney, hard-man nonsense. However, where Ritchie’s flicks are over-plotted and exhaustingly kinetic, the overall narrative of In Bruges is far simpler, the tone almost languid. It is also very, very funny, in a black and wonderfully offensive fashion. The first half of the film plays out with a hint of Withnail and I about it (woozy misanthropes on a not-entirely welcome holiday). However, after Fiennes erupts onto the screen with a mouthful of expletives, things take a considerably darker turn. The narrative turns its attention to themes of apocalypse, religion and redemption. The film culminates in a blood-spattered climax at the heart of a snow-strewn square, surrounded by extras dressed as demons from a Hieronymus Bosch painting. Yes, really. Even at its darkest In Bruges is still pretty hilarious.
Bruges itself looks fantastic; for all the time that Farrell’s character spends calling it a shit-hole it has a strange Old World majesty about it and the cinematography lingers over every church-spire and low bridge. As the narrative darkens, so does the representation of Bruges, with most of the latter plot-developments taking place at night, or in half-light, or in the shadows. Truth be told, it echoes the Venice of Don’t Look Now and even features a sly reference to that film’s most iconic scene.
The performances are excellent: Colin Farrell hands in a stunning comedic turn, all the while retaining a damaged quality; a sense that Ray is forever seeking a way to redeem himself for a horrific crime, one that is not fully revealed until well into the film. He also manages to wear what comedian Dylan Moran referred to as the typical Irish expression: he looks as though he has just been told two tremendously important pieces of information at the same time. As the world-weary veteran hit man Ken, Gleeson brings just the right amount of gravitas to the role, as well as making a superb straight-man to Farrell’s rambling simpleton. Fiennes prevents his loony mob-boss Harry from lapsing into vacuous cliché by investing the role with just the right amount of humanity. Also brilliant is Jordan Prentice as the embittered and racist dwarf. He’s in Bruges to shoot a scene for a movie – it is, of course, a dream-sequence. Clemence Poesy is thoroughly charming as a very fresh-faced drug-dealer and the object of Ray’s affection.
So, it’s a very picturesque film that also manages to be insanely violent: yes, there is a lot of blood, wildly offensive (it is especially hard on Americans...particularly robustly-proportioned ones), poignant, absurd and vindictively funny. But seriously, three actors from the Harry Potter franchise, what’s with that?
Directed by Martin McDonagh
Starring Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson, Ralph Fiennes, Clemence Poesy, Jordan Prentice.
Following a hit that goes disastrously wrong, two professional killers are banished to the tiny medieval town of Bruges, where they are instructed by their borderline psychotic and potty-mouthed boss to lie low and await further instructions. In case you’re wondering, Bruges is in Belgium. Problem is they are not the best at keeping a low profile and behaving like tourists. The older of the two – Ken (played with subtlety and style by the always great Brendan Gleeson), is enchanted by the narrow cobbled streets and winding canals. He really wants to see the sights, touch a vial of Jesus’ blood, that sort of thing. Ray (a delightfully dim and wounded Colin Farrell) just wants to go down to the pub, or to romance a drug-dealer, or perhaps just to spend time with a ketamine-abusing midget who rambles about coming race wars when he’s had too much cocaine.
Then their boss (Ralph Fiennes, channelling Ben Kingsley in Sexy Beast with hilarious results) calls with information about the next target.
Now, I’m no great fan of this genre of film-making, and I am well sick of all that whole Guy Ritchie Cockney, hard-man nonsense. However, where Ritchie’s flicks are over-plotted and exhaustingly kinetic, the overall narrative of In Bruges is far simpler, the tone almost languid. It is also very, very funny, in a black and wonderfully offensive fashion. The first half of the film plays out with a hint of Withnail and I about it (woozy misanthropes on a not-entirely welcome holiday). However, after Fiennes erupts onto the screen with a mouthful of expletives, things take a considerably darker turn. The narrative turns its attention to themes of apocalypse, religion and redemption. The film culminates in a blood-spattered climax at the heart of a snow-strewn square, surrounded by extras dressed as demons from a Hieronymus Bosch painting. Yes, really. Even at its darkest In Bruges is still pretty hilarious.
Bruges itself looks fantastic; for all the time that Farrell’s character spends calling it a shit-hole it has a strange Old World majesty about it and the cinematography lingers over every church-spire and low bridge. As the narrative darkens, so does the representation of Bruges, with most of the latter plot-developments taking place at night, or in half-light, or in the shadows. Truth be told, it echoes the Venice of Don’t Look Now and even features a sly reference to that film’s most iconic scene.
The performances are excellent: Colin Farrell hands in a stunning comedic turn, all the while retaining a damaged quality; a sense that Ray is forever seeking a way to redeem himself for a horrific crime, one that is not fully revealed until well into the film. He also manages to wear what comedian Dylan Moran referred to as the typical Irish expression: he looks as though he has just been told two tremendously important pieces of information at the same time. As the world-weary veteran hit man Ken, Gleeson brings just the right amount of gravitas to the role, as well as making a superb straight-man to Farrell’s rambling simpleton. Fiennes prevents his loony mob-boss Harry from lapsing into vacuous cliché by investing the role with just the right amount of humanity. Also brilliant is Jordan Prentice as the embittered and racist dwarf. He’s in Bruges to shoot a scene for a movie – it is, of course, a dream-sequence. Clemence Poesy is thoroughly charming as a very fresh-faced drug-dealer and the object of Ray’s affection.
So, it’s a very picturesque film that also manages to be insanely violent: yes, there is a lot of blood, wildly offensive (it is especially hard on Americans...particularly robustly-proportioned ones), poignant, absurd and vindictively funny. But seriously, three actors from the Harry Potter franchise, what’s with that?
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An exert from my own review:
"Set against a storybook backdrop In Bruges is an entertaining escapade that has a naturalistic momentum, authentic characters and builds to a theatrically grandiose finale. Truly funny, with an undercurrent of deeper meaning this rewarding films success begins with its dexterous screenplay but the versatile performances and deliberate staging are what bolster the end result.
Martin McDonagh Directs with a keen eye for setting, pace and fourth wall reality. The city of Bruges becomes a silent counter point to the onscreen action and his actors are given gravity. What could have been a farcical third act is kept within the boundaries of the established mood and the violence is delivered with gut shot power.
The structure of the curvaceous script lets the central characters breath, not rushing to exposition but letting the chemistry of the two leads infect the audience. Building a tension that doesn’t sacrifice silent, introspection the story may follow the basic rules of its genre but with the locations and thickly accented attitude there is a rewarding freshness. "
If your interested you can read my complete review HERE