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comedy and chaos

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Flats. Again and again.

State of America Part VII: In Bruges

I know I’m awake, but it feels as if I’m in a dream.

The double sidedness of a statement is a thing of undeniable beauty. To be awake, but to feel as if you’re in a dream. There is an enchantment to it, the idea that the dreamlike qualities of what is real are idyllic, wonderful, fantastic. It is too good to be true. It is the thing we have been waiting for our entire lives. It is the post-orgasm tranquility of life.

IN BRUGES explores this theme with a viciousness and irrelevant humor that will make you laugh out loud, and then slam you with its power. This is a smart rendition of a dark comedy, the light tragedy, the tragicomedy. The marketing of the film gives off that it is all laughs, this is Colin Farrell being silly and foreigners being witty, but it is far from that. This is a film of substance and humanity.

The question the film poses is one of personal demons. How does one go on after committing a truly heinous act? What is it that makes life worth living once you decide you have no reason to live? Bush would say Faith. Advertising would say Zoloft. It makes no difference whether the murder was one of conscious design or by accident, the course of people’s lives is forever changed, and you alone are responsible for that.

I know I’m awake, but if feels as if I’m in a dream.

It poses childlike happiness. It’s the sweet smile on a boy’s first big wheel ride.

Your head buzzes. Time slows. Your vision tunnels. The pit in your chest engulfs every drop of your strength. You’re fighting to get your head above the wave but the ocean is much more important than you.

IN BRUGES is far from a depressing tragedy. It is a smartly written rip on what we know: obese Americans overseas, racism, midgets. Throw in a mix of great drugs, prostitutes and Irish wit coupled with fine accents, and you’ve got a hell of a pointed film. The premise is brilliantly simple; two hit men hide out in Bruges, Belgium, after an assignment gone wrong. Brendan Gleeson is the old wise professional who knows the higher ground, Colin Farrell the wiseass giddy ‘boy’ who’s fucked up. The dialogue is wonderfully rendered; Martin McDonagh is nothing less than a master writer. Gleeson is perfect, the history lover, the calming factor, while Farrell plays the lovable restless novice obsessed with the heroin dealing girl, the ketamine consuming movie star midget, and the weight of the tragedy he has committed. Off color and wildly funny, Farrell karate chops the shit out of this role. There isn’t a moment he’s on screen that you’re not wondering ‘what the hell is this guy gonna do next? And shit, I hope he does it soon!’

The beauty of a great story is the subplots. This is also a tale of true friendship, that all too precious thing. Loyalty between friends. Friends over rules, friends over law, friends over your own personal well-being. True friends are few and far between, but you know the good ones when you’ve got them. Go see IN BRUGES. You’ll enjoy the Karate Chop, and probably everything else in it too.

Aye.

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Posted by: mike tyson:

I'm going to eat your children.