In Bruges (18)

On the surface In Bruges (18) looks like that most unwelcome of prospects these days  the British gangster film.

Quite frankly no amount of derision and opprobrium is enough to heap on this subgenre's noxious and unsavoury modern incarnation, with even some of its supposedly better recent examples still not rating nearly as highly as their supporters would claim.

But it quickly becomes apparent that In Bruges is a different beast. It still has many of the familiar hallmarks, revelling in its own crassness and bigotry, but does so with its tongue rammed in its cheek, while simultaneously reaching for something more profound.

This is because it's by controversial Irish playwright Martin McDonagh, the kind of writer whose ability to divide audiences can almost be physically sensed in an auditorium.

Ray and Ken are Irish hitmen who are forced to hide out in the picturesque Belgian medieval city of the title after a job in London goes badly wrong.

Ray (Colin Farrell) is the young, cocky one for whom the phrase ŒEuropean culture¹ carries all the attraction of an STD.

Ken (Brendan Gleeson) is the older and wiser one, still with inevitable flaws (given his profession), but who develops a paternal protectiveness towards his increasingly mixed-up companion as they live a bizarre purgatory which takes in churches, booze and an angry dwarf.

The offbeat humour evolves out of the film's stock comedy set-up  the mismatched pair, the fish-out-of-water scenario, the dead time of endless waiting. Although this could prove tiresomely clichéd, McDonagh brings a playwright¹s more complex approach to character.

Samuel Beckett is an inevitable reference point: two lost souls wandering the city streets, but there is something of the Shakespearean clown about each too, one young and raucous, the other melancholic and reflective.

This might all be reading too much into In Bruges, as it¹s also still frequently vulgar, puerile and offensive. While much of this can be very funny, though, events are shadowed by a long, unerring sense of unease as Ray¹s terrible mistake in London sinks in and effects a crisis of confidence both professional and spiritual.

McDonagh no doubt intends this to be interpreted as pathos, but the film¹s jaunty and blasé tone in its more comic moments can¹t disguise an underlying tang of tastelessness as both Ray¹s initial crime and its portrayal really aren¹t something that can ever translate easily to even the most bittersweet or black comedy.

On a more technical note, the writer-director¹s debut feature film also falls down (as it often does for those of a theatre background) when it comes to making the switch of pace to action, as In Bruges inevitably does later on once dispensed of the snappy, Tarantino-like dialogue.

And so it comes to the performances. Farrell can¹t really act, but his boyish appearance and mannerisms are best suited to this kind of boisterous comedy. But, as with many a recent performance, he still seems somewhat distracted.

Gleeson on the other hand is a really quite superb actor the kind who might one day come from nowhere to bag a well-deserved Oscar. His Ken lends a much-needed weight and thoughtfulness to the film, as expressed through his rubicund, sensitive features.

And finally Ralph Fiennes pops up to deliver a show-stealing cameo as the men¹s flustered, violent boss. It might have been more novel if it weren¹t for Ben Kingsley in Sexy Beast, but it¹s the final piece of this puzzling, uneven and not altogether successful gangster comedy.