100 Movies Every Catholic Should See #78: In Bruges (2008)
Directed by Martin McDonagh. Starring Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson.
Amidst a timeless landscape of medieval faith and morality, a modern hitman must come to terms with his own guilt and the inherent contradictions of his conscience. It was a premise that seemed natural for the iconoclastic Irish playwright Martin McDonagh’s first foray to the big screen. Experience in the grit and grime of working-class London along with some secondary school education by priests and nuns helped shape a budding imagination that would lead McDonagh to devote his life to writing plays from an earlier age. McDonagh’s formation did not include elite prep schools or prestigious universities, but rather meant fighting tooth and nail for every inch of hard earned progress as he wrote and sought to garner a wider audience for his plays. This would be to his benefit as his work would eschew the safer, air-brushed idealism prevalent in those raised in the upper echelons of society in favor of a raw tenacity imbued with the inescapable traces of the Catholic imagination he was raised with. His forceful anti-establishment sentiments were humorously illustrated at an awards banquet when he refused to stand up and toast the queen, while telling Sean Connery off in the process.1
McDonagh’s rugged demeanor, shaped by a tough upbringing catalyzed a proliferation of violently comic plays where off-putting characters struggle to contend with ethical issues while dodging predictable moralistic tropes. In Bruges represents the culmination of this early creative output, synthesizing the best of playwriting with that of the motion picture. McDonagh’s decision to direct came from a desire to keep his writing intact, away from the million meddlesome hands of the Hollywood screenwriting apparatus. Thanks to this approach, In Bruges delivers a refreshingly untainted script with McDonagh’s vision undiluted. While McDonagh may not actively practice the faith of his youth, the influences of the Catholic moral landscape are unmistakably present.
The narrative centers around two hitmen, Ken (Brendan Gleeson) and Ray (Colin Farrell) who find themselves in the cobbled streets of Bruges; Belgium's beautifully preserved medieval city, sent there to await further orders from their boss. Catholic influences abound as we learn that Ray’s recent first assignment involved an attempt to kill a priest from within the confessional. Tragically, the job went all wrong as Ray accidentally shot a child in the process. From the outset, Ray is tormented with guilt and grief, a burden that he must come to grips with as the narrative unfolds.
Despite the heavy subject matter, McDonagh is able to balance the script with a fair bit of humor. Black comedies are notoriously difficult to execute, yet In Bruges successfully injects a bit of well-timed levity into its bleak canvas. The film is an exploration of Ray’s lost innocence. He exhibits many immature qualities which, against the backdrop of his murder of a young innocent, makes for a fascinating contrast. Should the childish one who took the life of a young one be allowed to live? The film asks us. Gleeson and Farrell slide effectively into a father and son dynamic as Ken attempts to assuage Ray’s grief and get him to relax and enjoy the sites of the city. Ray’s cantankerous attitude lends itself to the script’s lighter moments as he rebuffs Ray’s invitation. In one moment, Ken takes Ray to climb the famous Belfry of Bruges. “What's up there?” Ray retorts as he crosses his arms and pouts on a bench. “The view,” Ken responds. “The view of what? The view of down here? I can see that down here”, Ray counters. Exasperated, Ken sighs, “Ray, you are about the worst tourist in the whole world.”
The heavy and imposing medieval architecture of Bruges offers the ideal backdrop for this exploration of guilt, punishment and atonement. The enduring stone edifices of the city seem to speak to a timeless and unavoidable moral framework which, no matter how far gone these men are, is inescapable. In their world of mob violence, McDonagh’s characters each operate from their own code of ethics. ”You've got to stick to your principles” Ken’s boss Harry tells him time and again. Yet, in this otherworldly metropolis, each character finds their own code on a collision course forcing a soul-searching reevaluation. Ken is ordered to kill Ray to clean up the trail of the botched job. Ray wants to kill himself to alleviate his guilt and seek his own form of justice.. It would seem that this would tie up the loose ends nicely. However, this is not what In Bruges suggests. There is something beyond the laws of the streets. Violence does not beget redemption. Every soul has inherent value, even one who believes he has committed a seemingly unforgivable act of taking an innocent child’s life.
What makes In Bruges particularly fascinating from a Catholic standpoint is that it is one of the very few films to wrestle with the notion of purgatory. The city of Bruges itself serves as a kind of purgatory for Ray in which he must expiate his sins. From the outset, Bruges is presented as a form of limbo in which these men must pass the long hours as the verdict of their next steps hang in the balance. Ray is forced to look inward and come to terms with what he has done rather than simply rushing off to the next job. His hatred of the city is immediately apparent, allowing McDonagh to loosen the tension for a momentary breath of levity. Consequently, it is this hatred of this intermediate state that turns Ray toward a redemption of sorts.
“And I thought, if I survive all of this, I'd go to that house, apologize to the mother there, and accept whatever punishment she chose for me. Prison... death... didn't matter. Because at least in prison and at least in death, you know, I wouldn't be in (explicative) Bruges. But then, like a flash, it came to me. And I realized, man, maybe that's what hell is: the entire rest of eternity spent in (explicative) Bruges. And I really really hoped I wouldn't die. I really really hoped I wouldn't die.”
McDonagh leans into his Purgatory allegory in more explicit terms when Ken and Ray visit Bruges’s art museum. The paintings they browse serve as poignant embodiments of Ray’s guilt and desire for atonement within the context of the cosmic order of Medieval man’s moral imagination. Ray is repulsed by the first two diptychs, Jan Provoost’s Death and the Miser and Gerard David’s The Judgement of Cambyses, both depicting judgment of man’s transgressions in the most violent medieval artistic imagery. Instead, he finds himself drawn to a triptych, The Last Judgment by Hieronymus Bosch which seems to offer a depiction of souls in purgative torment with a path toward salvation. He turns to Ken, suddenly engaged. After a brief discussion of heaven and hell, Ray reveals that he has some conceptual grasp on the notion of purgatory. “Purgatory's kind of like the in-betweeny one. You weren't really [truly horrible], but you weren't all that great either”, he explains to Ken. This exchange offers a clue that Ray understands and desires atonement for his heinous act reflecting the Catholic belief that redemption is never out of the question, as long one has to make the proper atonement for one's sins. In Bruges invites us to reflect on second chances and never give up on the possibility of redemption.
While McDonagh may lack the faith of his upbringing at present, its influence on his creative imagination is palpable. Along with his brother, John Michael (see Calvary), these firebrand Irish directors have contributed to a renaissance of filmmaking imbued with deeply spiritual sensibilities. In Bruges represents a richly provocative viewing, challenging one wrestle with profound moral questions. McDonagh confronts the world's ugliness and asks, perhaps this is not all there is.
*Content Warning: In Bruges contains a fair bit of language and some brief sexually implicit material.*
https://www.theguardian.com/culture/2022/oct/02/martin-mcdonagh-banshees-of-inisherin-interview