Martin McDonagh’s first feature film, In Bruges, strikes a fine balance of morbidity and comedy. A creeping introduction acquaints the viewer with the town’s looming medieval structures, gothic figures, and moonlit canals. Characters often claim that “it is like a fairytale,” and they are not at all wrong. However, while Bruges makes for a fantastic setting, the film’s reason for taking place here is far from pleasant.
Two Irish hitmen have hunkered down in a local inn to keep a low profile after a job gone wrong. They await further instructions from their short-tempered boss, Harry. The first hitman, Ray, is a brash young man, juxtaposed against his more cultured and experienced colleague, Ken. While Ken is dead set on exploring the town’s cultural offerings, Ray is determined to do anything but; his head sits deep in the folds of his coat, arms crossed and fingers fidgeting, constantly looking for an excuse to be anything but sober. Ray’s first job had been a few days earlier and the way it plays out makes his demeanor understandable.
Having been sent to kill a priest, Ray sits in the confessional, outwardly proclaims his motives, and emerges with gun in hand. He then riddles the father’s body with a barrage of bullets. As the man collapses a young boy is revealed behind him, caught by a stray bullet. Scrawls on a bloodstained note reveal the boys sins, carefully prepared for confession: “1) Being moody / 2) Being bad at maths / 3) Being sad.” As with many scenarios in the film, McDonagh does well to deliver a distillation of humanity, complete with all of its absurdity and sorrow. There is an evocation of the near incomprehensible feeling which is the coupling of the comic and the hollow.
The separation of youth and age is clear throughout the film, beginning with the stark contrast in both demeanor and appearance of the two hitmen. The botched murder of the priest takes this idea a step further. Initially, it was simply the intentional killing of a man who had already selected his lot in life, with little room for progression. For the boy with a bullet in his head, the stakes are much different. A previously unknown but hopeful future has been erased, with no prospect for redemption.
It is in Bruges that Ray, must reconcile with his actions. It is a town whose storied past harkens back to the Crusades, with its monuments and culture suggesting the Christian ideals of righteousness, judgment, and repentance. As such, what could be a beautiful getaway for Ray becomes a place of harrowing reflection; the film becomes a search for a remedy for Ray’s guilt and a desire to understand what awaits beyond physical death. Ray must know, will this crushing guilt die along with him in this life?
Stepping back, it is clear from the first moment that these men are foreigners, unfamiliar with Belgian customs and conventions. It is also evident that Bruges is a place of sinners. We come across a corpulent American family and a snobbish Canadian couple, possibly representations of the cardinal sins of gluttony and wrath, respectively. Ken and Ray also stumble upon the shooting of a film, where they meet a racist dwarf from the States and a seemingly demure but potent local who sells drugs to the production crew. They are here shooting a dream sequence, lending an illusory sense of self-awareness to the film. Over time, we understand Bruges to be the den of imported miscreants, arrived to reconcile their vices.
Notably, not a single Belgian native dies during the entire film despite plenty of near death experiences. Instead, it is only the foreigners who come face to face with their mortality. As such, McDonagh is possibly framing the residents of Bruges as those who permanently reside in purgatory, pushing sinners towards their impending judgment. This is supported by the film’s final scene in which a mortally wounded Ray is ushered through a procession on the set of the film, surrounded by grotesque masked figures, along with the locals who he has met during his time in Belgium. It is a sequence eerily familiar to Hieronymus Bosch’s painting, “The Last Judgment,” which Ray and Ken mull over.
It is a wonderful tale of repentance and judgment, balanced against tight, oftentimes lighthearted, dialogue. We come to understand Bruges as Ray’s purgatory, a temporary stop on the path to eventual judgment, consistently marked by suffering and uncertainty.
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