In Bruges - Waiting for Judgment

“Bruges is the most well preserved medieval city in the whole Belgium". With these words the stoic hit man Ken (Brendan Gleeson) tries to convince Ray (Colin Farrell), his youthful, impetuous partner, that the place chosen by their boss for them to hide out is not all that bad.

The reason these two Irish hired killers are laying low in Bruges during the Christmas season is because Ray accidentally killed a choirboy while shooting a priest on his first assignment. While Ken does not mind the stay, Ray is bored out of his mind and wants to return to London. He is also consumed by guilt, a guilt that paralyzes him and plunges him into a state of unrecoverable depression.

What differentiates In Bruges, written and directed by the ingenious Martin McDonagh, from most caper stories is its hybrid nature of black comedy and drama, its surreal, crepuscular tone and its layered philosophical undercurrent. The mixture of neo-noir and crime film elements, the atmosphere of a dark Gothic fairy tale set in modern time and the overabundance of quotable one-liners earned it the status of instant cult the very day it opened Sundance Film Festival in 2008.

From the start, the viewer is put in front of a moral dilemma: to condemn the actions of a murderer guilty of an unspeakable act, or to sympathize with him. Is it even possible to forgive Ray's actions? His crime is heinous, but was not committed on purpose. He, himself, does not attempt to rationalize it and the mere thought of it makes him want to kill himself. The very human reaction Colin Farrell’s character is having begs a second question, "What guilt truly means and how can it change us?" The viewer is left wondering about the punishment Ray should receive for his wrongdoing, and questioning if simply being aware of his crime and how grave it is can be considered a good enough castigation. This gray morality, alongside the religious iconography constantly lingering in the background, functions as the undertone of the entire film. The ubiquitous sense of guilt, permeating every frame, is what drives the story into its second and third act. The story unravels by pushing its characters to deal with that guilt.

The rich symbolism and complex ideas of the film are brought to the forefront through the dialogues between the two protagonists, Ken and Ray. In the story, they represent two clashing ideologies and their interactions bring forth everything the film is about. The actors do a fantastic job at making these characters feel like fully fleshed-out human beings: they are constantly questioning their actions, bickering with one another and changing their minds. This provides the main conflict of the film with great dramatic heft. The lofty themes of the story are hidden in the earthy conversations between the two, but their personalities never disappear behind the witty banter they constantly exchange. Their views differ on everything, from the most worldly matters to their view on life and death, but these do not prevent them from developing a connection so deep that, when their Boss order him to kill the "boy" (as Ray is referred to), Ken simply cannot carry out the task. We understand Ken couldn’t stop himself from caring deeply for Ray, a young man he feels responsible for, someone he developed a fatherly love for. Or maybe, just plain love.

The classic struggle between good and evil is here brilliantly subverted. Everything is muddied, confusing; moral and immoral are mixed and indistinguishable. Even the side characters are almost always very different from what they appear to be at first sight. The city itself is both a "fairy tale town" and a boring, unpleasant place - a limbo between Hell and Paradise. The metaphor is clear: Bruges, in this film, is essentially Purgatory, where Ray is trapped against his will, waiting to be judged for his actions. His boss, Harry (Ralph Fiennes), plays the part of the Grim Reaper, while Ken ends up becoming Ray’s Guardian Angel. The Last Judgement by Hieronymus Bosch, which Ken and Ray see and comment on in a museum, perfectly depicts the metaphor intertwined within the story.

The key to decoding the film’s narrative and its themes lies without a doubt within Harry's character, brilliantly depicted by Ralph Fiennes. At first, Harry is just a looming presence, constantly name-dropped by Ken and Ray, the architect of their imprisonment in Belgium. He only appears in the flesh in the latter half of the film. Despite this, he is pivotal in being a foil to both of our main characters. Like expected, Harry has many of the features of the typical film crime boss (extensive use of profanities, a threatening, self-assured attitude etcetera), but at the same time defects from that stereotype in a lot of ways. From the very limited view into his private life, he seems to be an honorable family man, even if a little short-tempered. His adamant (but corrupted) moral compass is the sole black and white component in the entirety of the story. According to Harry's set of principles, Ray cannot continue to live after what he did: he simply does not deserve it. Regardless of this notion, Harry apparently holds him in high enough regard to grant him a couple of weeks of vacation before having him killed. When Ken refuses to take his life, Harry flies to Belgium to execute the boy himself, originating the conflict that will lead to the climax of the film.

The confrontation between Harry and Ken is both ideological and physical. Ken realizes that he needs to care about Ray and wants him to get rid of his suicidal tendencies. He pushes Ray to become a better person in order to drive away his guilt. When confronted by Harry, he tries to talk him out of it. In Ken's words "The boy has the capacity to change", while Harry only has the capacity to get worse. Harry, on the other hand, confirms the rigidity of his moral compass by saying he would rather off himself on the spot than live with the guilt of a crime as abhorrent as Ray's.

As we know, Ken ends up giving his life to save Ray's. He does so in a climax that subverts almost all the tropes of the typical Hollywood action scene. The film constantly reminds us that these killers are human beings: Ken, a fine sniper, fails to shoot Harry from the top of the tower because of the thick fog; Ray gets tired while running away; Harry has to stop and check the city map to find the exact address he's looking for. A potentially gruesome showdown between the two in the hotel stairway comes to a grinding halt when Marie, the pregnant co-owner, gets in the way to prevent them from shooting at each other.

The strife culminates in a deadly bloodbath, very reminiscent of a Shakespearean tragedy: Ray ends up in the middle of a film set, where Harry accidentally shoots a little person through him. Mistaking him for a little boy, he immediately kills himself, as he believes to be responsible of the very same sin that he is punishing Ray for. Ray, on the other hand, aware of the misunderstanding, selflessly tries to stop him. This noble gesture, alongside Ken's sacrifice, gives him the will to live. As he is rushed away by the paramedics, Ray monologues about his resolution to survive, but the film ends without telling the viewer if he will actually live. However, that is not the point. The real ending to the story is that Ray is no longer suicidal, and that he is ready to take matters into his own hands. That’s his arc: finally, Ray can leave Purgatory. He is now free.

In Bruges is a true work of originality that explores broad themes in ways that are uncommon for the genres it exploits to tell its story. The dark jokes depart the film from being a straight-up comedy, but the slapstick violence and the inventive dialogue prevent it from being a dark comedy as well. One could say that In Bruges is a serious drama that uses humor as a counterpoint to the sadness at its core. This vast amalgam of descriptions, all true, betrays the unique nature of a masterpiece that cannot be properly categorized nor fit into a specific category. Just like its characters, In Bruges it is trapped in limbo.