In Bruges

I am usually wary of other people's film recommendations, even those from my buddy, The Chairman, whose tastes are very largely in keeping with my own. However, he lent me his DVD copy of In Bruges the other day, practically insisting that I watch it as soon as possible. And I'm so glad I did. I've mostly been trying to chase away my Olympic blues with a diet of pappy blockbusters of late, so this was the first really weighty film I've taken on in a while; but I think it would have impressed me at any time, under any circumstances. Almost certainly the film of the year, I should think. It was so good, I almost wanted to watch it again immediately - and that really doesn't happen very often.

Two Irish hitmen, Ken (Brendan Gleeson) and Ray (Colin Farrell), are sent away to the charming medieval city of Bruges in Belgium, to lie low for a while after their latest job. It's never discussed in the script, but one assumes that they may have been drawn into a career of violence by the Northern Irish 'Troubles'. However, they are now in the pay of a Cockney crime boss, the sinister Harry Waters. Ken is the seasoned old pro, and Ray the somewhat twitchy, possibly unreliable rookie. Their personalities seem to be polar opposites too: Ken is easy-going, sensitive, cultured; Ray seems almost simple-minded, hyperactive, and constantly on the brink of some violent outburst (although we gradually learn that there is a reason why he is so tightly wound at the moment). It's not clear how well they know each other, but there seems to be a certain respect and a strained affection between the two. In Bruges, however, they find themselves constantly bickering: Ken is warming to the charm of the beautiful old city (the film is a magnificent advertisement for the Bruges tourist board), and is happy to spend a carefree day or two sightseeing; the culture-averse Ray has decided that it is the most boring place on earth, and refuses to take any pleasure in their excursions. The childish squabbling between them as they make their rounds of the city's tourist attractions is beautifully played (much of the dialogue in these portions sounds as if it might have been improvised), and is often hilarious - Gleeson is a superb straight man to the curmudgeonly rants of Farrell's bratty philistine.

The story is hard to characterise: although much of the character study, and much of the playful sparring between Gleeson and Farrell, is quite lighthearted, this is a film with a very dark heart. It's too funny to be labelled as a serious drama, but it is the blackest of black comedies. It is also riotously un-PC, mainly thanks to Farrell's character, who seems to be almost completely disinhibited and repeatedly says the first thing that comes into his his head - Americans, Belgians, and midgets may find the film particularly uncomfortable viewing at times.

The film was written and directed by the Irish playwright, Martin McDonagh, his first full-length feature; and it is in many ways a very theatrical piece: although there are a number of quirky supporting characters (an American dwarf actor, a beautiful girl who sells him ketamine, the officious ticket seller at the Bell Tower, a louche Russian art dealer and gun seller), this is essentially a three-hander (between the two hit men and their demonic boss, Harry), and is sustained by the finely wrought dialogue and the magnificent performances.

Although the casting of Harry was made very obvious through the film's promotion (the actor's picture is more prominent on the DVD sleeve than Gleeson's or Farrell's!), within the film the revelation of his identity can work as quite a pleasing surprise. It's an untypically savage role for this actor; and we are introduced to this character initially only by his voice (which you're not likely to recognise) - first through the expletive-filled telephone message he dictates to the owner of the pension where his two hirelings are holed up, and then through an extended telephone conversation he has with Ken - so his eventual appearance nearly two-thirds of the way through the film has shock value.

The film is perhaps a tad too long. And the final third - where it evolves into a more conventional thriller, with chases and shootouts - is less satisfying than the opening (although by this stage these characters have got under our skin, and we care about what happens to them - even the monstrous Harry, who, despite his obscene vocabulary and his constant seething rage, is revealed to be a man of deep, if flawed, integrity). The occasionally very graphic gore sits a little uncomfortably with the comedic material too (the deleted scenes include the most convincing decapitation I have ever seen on film; although this incident was rightly removed from the final edit as an unnecessary flashback). And the very last plot twist I found too contrived.

A film this good is allowed a few blemishes, however. Amidst all the quirky situations and the off-colour jokes, this is in the end a deeply serious film, a moving meditation on the moral codes of violent men, a study of decency, loyalty, and conscience. The three central performances are all award-worthy. Some may carp that the crazed intensity of Harry Waters - occasional brief passages of civility always threatening to give way to another psychopathic eruption - is derivative of Ben Kingsley's character in Sexy Beast; well, so it is, but it's still very well done (and I rather think that a lot of East End gangsters really are like that). Colin Farrell is just brilliant as the haunted, childlike Ray; there's such variety, such energy, such detail in the performance. Although this character is an extraordinarily irritating little gobshite and, let's not forget, a murderer, Farrell manages to thoroughly engage our sympathies for him. It's great to see him get a role he can sink his teeth into here, rather than, as so often in Hollywood, being cast mainly for his looks (he probably enjoyed being able to use his native accent for once as well); he is a quite superb actor. Of the three leads, though, I think I'd give the top honours to the veteran Irish actor, Brendan Gleeson, who gives such a warm, subtle, poignant portrayal of Ken, a career villain who perhaps sees a final opportunity to redeem himself. He is the centre around whom the other characters move, the deadpan comic foil to Ray's diatribes against Bruges, an immovable rock in the midst of Harry's vengeful storm.

Believe me, acting doesn't get any better than this - all three of them, but especially Gleeson. I feel I could watch this film 10 times in the next week (5 of them without the sound!) and find something new to appreciate in it each time. A small masterpiece.

(It's also chock-full of memorable dialogue. In the DVD 'Extras', I particularly liked 'Deleted Scene 58', which provides the best ever tactic for avoiding unwanted conversations with strangers on trains.)