FEBRUARY 29, 2008 - VOL. 1, ISSUE 4

I first heard of the Belgian city of Bruges when my sister came back from Amsterdam. She brought me a box filled with ornate chocolates and said that she had gotten them when she went to visit Bruges during her time in Amsterdam. "It's my favorite place in Europe," she told me. "It's wonderful." She'd been seduced by the famously well preserved architecture and quaint cobble stone streets. She went on and on about the bridges and the rivers. Ever since she came back I've wanted to go see that supposedly beautiful city; it was this secret dream of going to Bruges that got me into the theater to see In Bruges.

The previews gave the film the appearance of being a fish-out-of-water comedy that plopped two professional killers in a charming European tourist city—and that was one element of the film—but there is much more to this picture than its comedy. In Bruges manages to meld comedy and drama in a way that is exciting, moving, and always engaging. There is no point when you can comfortably laugh or comfortably cry, because the humor in this movie is carefully sprinkled across the drama that drives the story forward.

Ray, played by Collin Farrell, and his partner Ken, played by Brendan Gleeson, have been sent to Bruges by their principled, yet psychotic, boss Harry. After Ray accidentally shot a boy in the face while killing a priest who he was hired to hit, the boss sends them off to Bruges to lay low for a while and wait for his call. While on hiatus in Belgium, Ray occupies himself by following around a midget and trying to woo a beautiful Belgian heroine dealer. He has intermittent bouts of tears because of the guilt he is consumed by due to the accidental murder of the young boy, but the majority of his comments through out the first half of the film consist of him bemoaning his presence in Bruges—a city he despises—and insulting various tourists who are attempting to enjoy its beauty. Even his partner Ken, who simply wants to enjoy the sights of the town, is forced to suffer Ray's endless and sophomoric petulance.

The first half of the film is a credit to the art of filmmaking. In Bruges manages to allow the visuals of the film to speak in harmony with the dialogue. The subtle music and causal banter of the characters allows our eyes to engage the images on screen; the city becomes another character in the film. The lofty church tower and arched bridges that rise above the twinkling river seem to communicate the frozen aesthetic of Bruges: endlessly medieval and perennial to the core. At the same time these images include weird moments that are at once humorous and disturbing: a middle aged man holding a bald-faced dog on his lap stroking its hind paws as he stares vacantly off into space, a trio of obese Americans waddling through the promenade, and another canine (this one's a yellow lab) staring out at you from an open window with its eyes pinched in sleepy contemplation. Through the camera's eye Bruges becomes charming while at the same time appearing ominously peculiar.

About midway through the film we discover that their boss Harry has sent them to Bruges for a very special reason, a reason he shares with Ken in secret. Ken is supposed to kill Ray. Harry sent them to Bruges because he thought that it was a "magical fucking fairyland." He wanted to give Ray the opportunity to see it before he was killed. Ray must be killed, according to Harry, because he "killed a fucking kid." This scene is at once hilarious and heartbreaking. On the one hand you have this delightful irony coming to life on screen: Harry's parting gift to Ray was more of a punishment then an actual reward. At the same time the oddly endearing Ray has just been marked for death.

From this point on the pace of the film increases. Ray is contemplating suicide and not aware that his partner is supposed to kill him. Ken is becoming racked with guilt, and as a result, drinks to excess. There are drugs, violence, and sex (almost). The mayhem erupts in an oddly racist speech by Ray, whom he has become obsessed with. Soon afterwards Ken decides to let Ray go.

The last part of the film involves the arrival of a pissed-off Harry who's going to kill Ken for not following orders, and simultaneously Ray gets brought back to Bruges after he was supposed to have fled. It is at this point that the blood begins to flow. As I watched this endless chase scene that seemed to go on forever I kept thinking to myself, logically speaking, this scene is too long, and yet, I am engaged, and I was. By keeping the scene in constant flux—you never know what's going to happen next and there are constant interruptions in the action that are at one second funny and the next heartbreaking—this scene is not only palatable, it is savory. The end result is that Ken kills himself by jumping off the tower, the little person gets his head blown off by Harry who then kills himself thinking that he just shot a child, and Ray takes a huge amount of bullets and gets wheeled into the back of an ambulance.

This last scene in the ambulance is one I need to linger on. The snow is drifting down against a black sky that is disrupted by the medieval towers of Bruges that jut up into it illuminated by artificial light and painted majestic by the shadows of their stonework, and Ray as been shot on the set of a film that the midget is acting in. The scene they the film crew is filming is a dream sequence. There are actors in apothecary cloaks with hideous masks made of pale stretched flesh. It really does look like a fucking fairyland. As Ray is wheeled into the back of the ambulance you hear him say something that you have wanted him to say all along, because as I said, he is an oddly endearing character. "I want to live." This could run the risk of becoming overly idealistic, but writer/director Martin McDonagh makes this little epiphany palatable when Ray finishes this statement by making it clear that he still hates Bruges.

The character of Ray is one that I feel like I have encountered many times in my life. It is all too easy to come across people who are unconcerned with the past and disenfranchised with the present. When you consider the hyper-consumption of entertainment in our society and the burdensome work ethic so many people labor under, the reality of Bruges has little to offer. Where is the escape? That's what people want these days. That's what Ray wants. He wants to get away from reality, to stay out of touch with history and culture. By the end of the film he still hates Bruges, and I don't blame him—it looks a little queer to me after seeing it filtered through this film. But what is important about the last scene is that at least he wants to get back into life (or, if you please, reality). I think that Ray embodies our generation's disregard for anything placid. We are always seeking out adventures and activities and never really sitting with ourselves. The end result is that we rush our way through life and never really live.