Here are the things I knew about In Bruges going in:
- it stars Colin Farrell
- it's about contract killers
- it takes place in a quaint medieval European city
Yeah, I know. I know. But it was ridiculously hot, my air conditioner broke, and ... well, the other choice was something with subtitles and the very real possibility of an extended black-and-white shot of a chapeau blowing in the wind.
But you know what? In Bruges was, no shit, the best movie I've seen this entire year. The most amusing, the most surprising, the most laugh-out-loud funny but also not at all funny, the most engaging. Really. I am not attempting to punk you. I swear.
The setup: These two guys, one played by Colin Farrell, the other by Brendan Gleason, find themselves in Bruges. They've been sent there by their boss, either to hide out or maybe do a job, they're not sure, all they know is they're supposed to be in the hotel at night in case he phones. Until he phones, they wait.
In one of the early scenes, Ken (Gleason) drags Ray (Farrell) around the city, giddily pointing out interesting medieval details, reading from a guidebook, etc., while Farrell mopes like a surly teenager. Ken asks if he's coming with him up to the top of the belltower.
"To see what?" Ray says. "What's down here? I can see what's down here from down here."
"You're the worst kind of tourist," Ken says.
"Look, I'm from Dublin," Ray says. "I like Dublin. If I'd grown up on a farm, and was retarded, maybe Bruges might impress me, but I didn't, and it doesn't."
Also: there's a racist American midget, a couple Canadians, a ridiculously entrancing female lead, moments of real poignancy, a couple shootouts, a beautiful setting, and enough genuinely surprising plot twists to keep you guessing, even when you think you know exactly what's coming next.
So, to review: Yes, Colin Farrell is a douche. And has made a lot of bad movies. But this one is good. And you should see it. The End.
5 comments:
Me and all my girlfriends were totally going to rent a towncar and get all dolled up in our jimmy choos and fendi bags and our feather boas -- i mean, i was puking for a week just to fit into my dress -- to go see this, but then i heard that Colin Farrell and Big gangfuck Charlotte with a broomstick and the front line of the Charlotte Hornets, and, well, that was a bit of a turn off, so we decided to just go to the mall instead. We had a kick ass time. Girl power!
Mike is such a Stanford.
Nothing like having to use Google to figure out how you're being made fun of.
Damn you, Dave Housley! Damn you!
Ok bro, I just got the film. I will watch it after I watch Snakes on a Plane, for the second time.
Sorry, I couldn't help it. I recycled that, actually, since I got on the Sex and the City comments bandwagon too late. Just proves that comparing Mike to flouncy gay bald men will work in any situation.
umm, "COMPARING" Mike to flouncy gay bald men? comparing?!?! i mean, did anyone read this post (and the one about girl in the cafe) besides me?
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