In Bruges

****

I love British films, but they leave me feeling as if I speak a foreign language. In fact I’m leading an effort to mandate that all British film imports to this country must come with subtitles for no less than the first third of the film. That’s about how long it takes for me to get any idea of what’s being said -- unless it’s the F-word, an expression easily translatable and abundantly sprinkled throughout In Bruges (pronounced Broozh).

This devilishly dark comedy has a grafted feel to it, a hybrid falling somewhere between Sam Peckinpah and Monty Python. Written and directed by Irishman Martin McDonagh (The Lieutenant of Inishmore) In Bruges is the crisp tale of two Irish gangsters who’ve been sent to Bruges, Belgium to cool off after their mission, a hit on a local priest, goes bad.

Watching these two is like watching an old rerun of the Odd Couple. The older, wiser and more experienced of the two criminals, Ken (Brendan Gleeson) is a killer with a heart, who has been at this dirty business far too long. His younger, more impetuous counterpart, Ray (Colin Farrell) is a newbie who, after bungling his first hit, is overcome with guilt. Their boss, Harry (Ralph Fiennes) eventually shows up to take care of business in an ending that is a bloody counterpart to the easy going opening of the film. Along the way there’s a racist dwarf, a cute hooker, a clumsy pimp, an art loving gun runner, three fat American tourists, and a pregnant landlady, all who round out the cast nicely.

What’s not apparent at first is that Bruges itself becomes a member of the cast. The quaint streets, gray skies and medieval buildings are not just the perfect backdrop to this story, but as the two gangsters tour the city it becomes a place as familiar and alive as the characters it hosts. By the end of the film you feel as if you’ve spent a week in Bruges.

I can’t recommend this film for everyone. McDonagh’s work is inundated with F and C bombs, some nudity and a violent but necessary finale. It’s also filled with rank humor, the kind that anyone on the PC train will find offensive. But, if you’ve got a bit of an edge to ya, then grab a pint ‘n sit ye down for a gud un. Understand?