Widening Horizons - In Bruges

For every overrated big budget Hollywood blockbuster, there are three smaller films that, despite critical acclaim and awards, don't manage to garner the kind of following that they really deserve. One such film is Irish playwright Martin McDonagh's first, In Bruges.

The reason I chose this film, (besides the fact that it is one of my all time favourites) is that it is one of the most economical and airtight screenplays I have encountered, and engages you almost effortlessly. McDonagh also brings an extremely unique touch to every character and almost every scene in the film with a flair for dialogue that is so typical of playwrights, establishing himself as the Irish Tarantino with only his first film.

The film kicks off with a voice-over prologue, a strict no-no according to most experts of the trade, but gifted writers, especially playwrights, continue to prove that they can break all rules and create a product better than most. The voice-over, while serving the primary purpose of building intrigue about the back story, also maintains the unity of space, making sure that from the first image you see, you're in Bruges.

The economy with which the film has been written is also seen in the way the character of our man, Ray (Colin Farrell), and that of his friend and mentor, Ken (Brendan Gleeson aka Mad-Eye Moody) is established. Two hitmen - one, a man-child that throws tantrums, drags his feet when he's asked to do something he doesn't want to do, and always wants to have his way, and the other, a father figure with a surprising love for history and culture - essentially two likeable and empathetic characters.

Yes, the strangeness of this contradiction is obvious, but it is this very contradiction that makes the film beautiful, for contradiction within character is where the root of all good drama lies. Apart from these two, we also have their boss, Harry (Ralph Fiennes aka Voldemort. See the irony? I'm pretty sure it was intentional), who is seen for the first time after more than half the film is done, and yet we already know everything we need to about him through a voice-mail and a phone conversation.

What makes these characters so complete and believable? The answer lies in the fact that while they're part of a pretty strange world that may not seem real, they are convincing and realistic, because the writer knows them and their world inside out, and is therefore able to make this very specific, minute, and almost chaotic world seem like a cosmos with universal resonance.

Big words and technical terms having been used, there is actually a very simply reason why this film works so well. This is its primary theme - guilt and redemption. The raw power of this theme has fuelled some of the greatest works in literature, theatre, and cinema for centuries. From the guilt that destroyed Macbeth from within, to Andy Dufresne's redemption of the Shawshank variety, this theme has asked questions deep enough to have most of us at a loss for words.

An empathetic hitman inadvertently kills a little boy while on a job. He is stuck in his own purgatory, unable to come to terms with what he has done, with all sorts of questions about sins and the afterlife, because no matter what he does, he will always have killed the little boy. Nothing he does will make that go away, unless maybe, he goes away?

It is the way the question has been asked, and not how it has been answered that makes this film special. Being in Bruges, the painting The Last Judgement, and the setup of the Don't Look Now homage film-within-a-film that pays off with the costumes of the actors reflecting the painting, may all seem like additions just to make the film look good and add humourous moments, but actually constitute a very conscious ploy by McDonagh to add symbolistic imagery to the film.

The narrative has been structured in a slightly unusual manner, but one that is a prerequisite for the film's tone. The same story could easily be used to make the most serious drama film, but McDonagh has treated it like a dark comedy, a genre that is probably the most reflective of the reality of our world, where there is a lighter side to almost everything, and even in the darkest depths of despair, there is generally something that can cheer you up.

There is definitely something to be said about the uncanny inclination that almost all writers with a penchant for verbosity have towards inserting pop-cultural references and meta humour in their work. In McDonagh's case, these include several references to Nicolas Roeg's Don't Look Now and a homage to Orson Welles' Touch of Evil. While the former is done in a pretty simplistic way, the latter is in the form of a brilliant six and a half minute one-shot scene.

So beautifully designed and completely engrossing is this phone conversation between Ken and Harry, that it took me close to ten viewings to actually notice that it had no cuts. From the ludicrousness of what Ken has to do due to Harry's absurd and exasperating demands, to the grave turn that puts Ken in one helluva predicament, this scene's brilliance lies in the fact that it draws absolutely no attention to the writer-director despite doing so much for the narrative.

Just like the rest of the film, the ending moves away from clichés and is quite refreshing in most ways. While Ray's character, both protagonist and antagonist, reaches a resolution that is most natural, by finding the only way that could come close to assuaging his guilt, his fate remains uncertain, for his purgatory could turn into hell if he is forced to spend the entire rest of eternity in Bruges.

Add to all this some great performances from the cast, especially Farrell and Gleeson, the most gorgeous purgatory possible, and the most hauntingly ethereal score you would hear, In Bruges is one of the most satisfying cinema experiences of the century so far and deserves to be remembered as such for generations to come.