In Bruges

Christ­mas, and fog­gy Bruges is ful­ly booked, but Ray (Col­in Far­rell) and Ken (Bren­dan Glee­son) man­age to snag a B&B for two weeks. They’re hit­men on the run, and they don’t know why. Only their boss Har­ry (Ralph Fiennes) knows, but for now they must sit it out in a shag­gy dog tale of bore­dom, reflec­tion and recrim­i­na­tion in ​‘the most well-pre­served town in Belgium.’

We know this, because Ken reads guide­books and is gen­er­al­ly enthu­si­as­tic about Bruges, while Ray hates it. ​“Bruges is a shit-hole,” he says, on sev­er­al occa­sions. And on they go, ban­ter­ing back and forth, like Mutt and Jeff or Bill and Ted, but with firearms and trou­bled consciences.

But then, just when you think In Bruges has noth­ing to say, just when you think that it’s a genre revamp and a lazy exer­cise in film style by its play­wright-turned-direc­tor Mar­tin McDon­agh, the movie sud­den­ly hits you with a moment that warns you against doing just that.

Like Ray stum­bling into the bed­room after mid­night, turn­ing on the lights, wak­ing up and talk­ing blithe­ly to the iras­ci­ble, increas­ing­ly per­nick­ety Ken. ​“Turn off the fuck­ing light,” hiss­es Ken, his head half-hid­den in the pil­low. ​“I’ve had six pints and sev­en bot­tles, and I’m not even pissed,” replies Ray. It’s a slice of life so deli­cious­ly banal, and so acute­ly observed that it’s almost poet­ry. But it gets better.

Ray, in touch with his inner thug, is caught in a vicious ver­bal exchange with a super­cil­ious Cana­di­an in a late night restau­rant. ​“He paus­es,” says Ray, nar­rat­ing his own life out loud, announc­ing his own stage direc­tions (this is the work of a play­wright, after all), ​“even though he should just hit the cunt.” And guess what? He does.

But it gets bet­ter still. Because Har­ry arrives, and he’s got a plan. Ray must die for botch­ing the last mur­der job. And Ken is the one who has to do it. But it’s not fair, because Ray is young, wit­ty, has a rapid turn of phrase (“Stop whing­ing like a big gay baby!”), is played by Col­in Far­rell with an aber­rant amount of charis­ma, and has already made firm friends in Bruges – includ­ing dwarf Jim­my (Jor­dan Pren­tice) and would be para­mour Chloe (Clé­mence Poésy). But then again this is dark­er than your aver­age hit­men-in-per­il comedy.

As McDon­agh knows, and proves, hap­py end­ings are off the menu. Instead, there’s a tight­ly woven mish­mash of sac­ri­fi­cial blood­let­ting, of gun­play and of final, pun­ish­ing redemp­tion. It ends in tears, and in the hope that moral­i­ty has been purged by Ken and Ray. It ends as it start­ed, in Bruges, at Christ­mas, in fog.