For a while, they float in this purgatory state, and Ray’s boredom (or perhaps just innate rebelliousness) leads to him causing a lot of mischief – he beats up an “American” tourist (who turns out to be Canadian) in the name of revenge for John Lennon. , his provocation of an American family (this time for real) into chasing him around the square after he tells them they are too overweight to climb the clock tower. And a lot of it is more fun than the kind of mischief the killer usually commits.
Then things get darker. When Harry tells Kane the true purpose of their trip – a final vacation followed by a quick execution of Ray, to be carried out by Kane – the laughter fades to black, as Kane wonders whether or not he’ll be able to kill someone. A man who clearly hates tolerating his extreme whining, but we suspect he might still consider him a friend, albeit reluctantly.
Brendan Gleeson’s gruff stoicism is perfect in this moment. When he chooses the personal and professional sacrifice that he knows letting Ray escape would entail, there is no turmoil and no struggle with any inner demon that shows on his face. There is only a firm acceptance of the consequences of what he has decided is absolutely the right decision.
Ralph Fiennes is also smart, fanatically and imaginatively losing his rag as Harry while Ken Gleason calmly informs him of his decision to let Ray go. (Harry’s implicit acceptance of Ken’s assertion that he is a slut, by insisting that Ken “back off that part of my kids fucking my pussy” but saying nothing about Ken’s description of Harry himself, is a Hall of Fame unit for comedy writing and performance.)
The frenetic ending set up — where Harry wants to kill Ray, Kane wants to intercept Harry and warn Ray, and Ray, as always, just wants to get out of Bruges — is perfect. We get all the shooting, screaming, and chasing action, and within it is an extremely violent scene that will shock you with its emotions, while still managing to serve the plot truthfully.
In his final moments, as snow falls around him, Ray Farrell delivers the heaviest bit of dialogue in the entire film. And thus his masterful descent is complete—from the lightness and joy of its beginning to a rumination on the nature of death itself, at the end. Merry Christmas everyone! I’ll take care of this Frosty hot Any day.
This story originally appeared on British Feverqueen.
