Talk first. Explain later. It’s a compelling narrative device used too little in films. Thankfully, award-winning playwright [1] Martin McDonagh understands the intrigue behind a little mystery. [2] In Bruges is McDonagh’s first stab (or should that be shot?) at bringing his infinitely dark sense of humor to a feature length movie. (He previously won an Academy Award for best live action short with his 27-minute nail-biter [3] Six Shooter). The Irish playwright turned writer/director further explores staple themes of violence, redemption, damnation, and duty in his latest blood soaked genre-bending film.

Bruges (that’s broozh), for all you uncultured I-like-my-hometown-just-fine-thank-you-very-much people, is in Belgium, and if you want to get technical about it, it’s Brugge (broo-gha) to the local Flemish population. (And yes, despite it’s make believe-ish name, Flemish is a real language spoken by the inhabitants of Brugge and not just a funny word used to characterize the noises induced by French speech). Still not ringing any bells? How about the fact that it’s one of the oldest medieval cities in all of Europe rivaling Paris in art, beauty, culture, and of course we can’t forget la amour.

But picturesque gems like Bruges don’t stay hidden in their magical corner of the world for long. Currently, the charming city is overrun with tourists (especially those extra-annoying, camera-toting, super-size-me plus Americans – I’m not pointing any fingers), tacky tourist shops, film crews, and most recently, thanks to McDonagh, hit men on the lam. You just haven’t lived until you’ve seen a shoot out on cobble stone streets.

The film opens with a colorful voice over from Ray ([4] Colin Farrell). He states how after killing someone he was shipped off to Bruges to lay low. Whether the killing was intentional or accidental is not revealed until later when we discover that Ray and his partner in crime Ken ([5] Brendan Gleeson) are actually hired guns working for the semi-psychotic, foul-mouthed Harry ([6] Ralph Fiennes).

Ken and Ray are the Felix and Oscar of the hit man world. Ken is content spending his mini-vacation meandering along canals, soaking up art, climbing all 366 steps of the Belfry, and paying homage to the amazingly re-liquidized blood of Christ. His perfect day consists of striking a “fair balance between culture and fun” (which to Ray’s horror includes heavy doses of culture).

Ray on the other hand, fails to see the intrinsic fairy tale beauty Bruges possesses. He deems the place a “shithole” and only seems happy when he’s in the pub getting wasted, in his hotel room getting high with Danish prostitutes and his newly acquainted dwarf-friend Jimmy ([7] Jordan Prentice), or re-imagining his life with the attractive but far from pure Chloe ([8] Clémence Poésy). For Ray, the fairy tale likeness of Bruges is not an escape; it’s hell. A purgatory lined with quaint buildings and stain-glass windows made purposefully dazzling to make you forget, or not care, you can’t see out.

Ray is literally trapped along with all the other characters, whether they realize it or not, In Bruges. The one time Ray comes close to leaving, he’s pulled back in by an unlikely, but humorous domino effect of coincidences. Like hell, or purgatory, there’s no escape. But perhaps a little atoning is just what these characters need, or subconsciously feel they deserve, after a lifetime of sins.

Plot twists keep viewers on the edge of their seats as they quickly learn nothing is “out of bounds” in McDonagh’s world. One weary viewer animatedly protested in the seat behind me, “he can’t do that!” But oh contraire, can and he most certainly does “do that” without so much as batting an eye. That’s the incredibly refreshing and simultaneously horrifying thing about McDonagh’s work. He plays by his own rules. Ken’s happy sightseeing vacation is disrupted by heavy bouts of depression and the unwelcomed arrival of Harry. The unhappy Harry is not out for vengeance per se; he’s just taking care of business. It all boils down to a “matter of honor,” and anyone who has ever seen a crime film knows what that means. Don’t take it personally, it’s just principle. There are so many developments and revelations it would be a sin to give away too much. This is a film that’s meant to be experienced first-hand in all its visceral carnal glory.

McDonagh elicits pitch perfect performances from leads Gleeson and Farrell. Both are good actors, but Farrell is seriously underrated no thanks to the bad press of a few blockbuster duds. The intricate voice pattern Farrell constructs for Ray blends offbeat humor with revealing character mannerisms. Ray’s not only literally imprisoned in Bruges, he’s also held captive by his own conscience. Farrell portrays the depressed, guilt-ridden man behind the gun with equal amounts cocky wit and tortured soul searching. Every time his big brown eyes well up or he nervously nibbles his nails you can’t help but feel bad for this deeply damaged man who just happens to kill people for money.

Gleeson compliments Farrell’s doubting twitchiness with a calm, collected demeanor. His enthusiastic tourist guise and friendly persona makes it easy to forget he’s a more dangerous killer than Ray. Gleeson slowly peels away Ken’s layers, revealing an inner core of decency and compassion. His bond with Ray moves beyond friendship as he transitions into the role of protective, advice-dealing father. Gleeson manages to move seamlessly from sweet to menacing and back to sweet again without missing a beat.

Fiennes, as usual, has fun playing the title baddie who can be called many things, a hypocrite not among them. He brings violence and a thick Cockney accent to Bruges, both of which serve their respective purposes in the story.

McDonagh has a keen eye for the disturbing and bizarre. The cinematography, which consists of hand-held camera shots and selective shallow focus, underlines the ever-present atmosphere of tense uneasiness. Even the original score by Carter Burwell proves eerily haunting. Of course, the unsettling is off set by the darkly humorous script which covers everything from the usefulness of alcoves to a hit man to the different courses of action you could take if someone came at you with a bottle and basic karate skills. A master of juxtaposition, McDonagh knows how to make viewers laugh, gasp, cringe, and more importantly, think.

Appearances are purposely deceiving. Lines are blurred and boundaries crossed. Ray and Ken are both killers and good people with recognizably human emotions. Life is made up of both comedy and tragedy. Bruges is both a beautiful fairy tale city and a disturbing purgatory-like prison with a seedy underbelly (apparently there are prostitutes and gun dealers in Bruges; they’re just not marked in any guidebook. As Jimmy points out, “brothels are good” if you’re looking for a place to start). The almost Lynchian type turn at the end gives a similar double meaning to the made up, and oddly ironic, reaction Ken tells Harry that Ray had of the city: “I know I’m awake, but I feel like I’m in a dream.” And after seeing In Bruges, I have to say; I know exactly what he means.