In Bruges $$$$$

I feel bad for writer/director Martin McDonagh. What's a guy to do when his first major movie is darn near perfect? Now I want to say he has it in him to do another just as brilliant, but I'd only say that the way a commencement speaker tells a group of troubled slackers that they can be anything they want. I don't entirely believe it's possible. With In Bruges, McDonagh tells a story so well that even when it's most morbid, or most gratuitous, you trust that it's for a reason. You know how fanatics of a certain person or entity, say, The Backstreet Boys, always give them the benefit of the doubt? "They lip sync and rape kittens," might say a BSB detractor." The die hard will reply, "It's all part of their magic." In one movie McDonagh earned that kind of trust from me.
Working with Colin Farrell, Ralph Fiennes and Brendan Gleeson might have been intimidating for McDonagh. The biggest thing he's done is an Oscar-winning short called Six Shooter. But McDonagh matches the acting talent with a story so surprisingly tight that you'll recall the days when Tarantino made everyone an overnight fan/expert of scriptwriting. And it's such simple fare; Farrell and Gleeson are hiding out in Bruges, Belgium while a botched hit blows over. Some people might get a little bored while the two characters tour the Medieval city bashing Americans and Belgians alike, but this baby simmers to a finish wrapped so tight that you'll want to sit there for a minute to see if you missed anything.
Beware: I saw some people get up and leave. It could have been the offensive comedy, or maybe the story brewed to slowly, or they grew up on a farm and are retarded.
Who Will Like This: People slightly less needy than Pulp Fiction fans.
Secret to Better Enjoyment: When did Farrell become so damn funny? And I have to hand it to the Irish/English for making the 'c' word so versatile. In Bruges, anybody can be a 'c' word.


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