Thank fuck for In fucking Bruges. So its saturday fucking night and I've just had enough of all the fucking shit films we're showing (I've said it before and I'll say it again, fuck April, its a shit month for the multiplexes). I'd had enough of sitting through fucking dirge like First Sunday and was not only ready to stop this fucking challenge, but quit my fucking job and and forget that the brothers fucking Lumiere ever invented such a miserable contraption as the fucking cinematographe. Before sitting down to watch this I was fucking pissed off. Two hours of sweary Irishmen later and I'm as happy as fucking Larry. Thank fuck for In Bruges.
Colin 'Fucking' Farrell is Ray a low level gangster/hitman who has been sent to the Belgian town of the title to lay low with collegue Ken (Brendan Gleeson) at the behest of fucking 'orrible Harry, (Ralph Fiennes) an Eastend villain that would give Ben 'Sexy Beast' Kingsley a run for his fucking fuckmoney. The problem is Ray doesn't like Bruges. so while he should be staying put in his hotel he's instead chasing fucking midgets, doing lines of fucking coke and generally making a fucking nuisance of himself. Harry is not best fucking pleased so asks Ken to deal with it.
I fucking love hitmen movies. I don't know why, I'm a girly fucking pacifist at the best of times but Leon, Grosse Pointe Blank, Nikita (techinally a hitwoman but stop being so fucking pedantic) are some of my favourite fucking films. It'll need one more watch but fuck if In Bruges doesn't make it up there with them. It ticks every fucking box, funny, intelligent, emotional, fuck its even quite romantic at some points. Its shot so that Bruges looks like a fucking fairytale and from Colin to Ralph its impeccably fucking played.
Big weighty themes such as the fucking point of life, Catholic fucking guilt and death, death and more fucking death never appear to be big weighty themes such is the handling of the script. The big one of death, death and more fucking death hangs over every single frame of the film like a grim reaper on double pay, yet manages in the resolution to become less a morbid thing and instead something incredibly uplifting. The coup de fucking gras though is that for the first time in a long time the credits roll when they fucking should.
Oh and if you don't like ridiculously over the top, completely unneccesary swearing then you may which to avoid the film. And this review. You fucking shitcunt.