Bursting with wanton wit and sheepish severity, In Bruges passes the re-watch test with flying colours, still able to surprise as it merges sad tones with doltish behaviour; a hard and hilarious combo.

Dark humour is a label that tends to be thrown around haphazardly, placing action/drama comedies into the same big bucket without distinguishing between the two; a colleague once argued that both Get Out and Knives Out are black comedies which, even if you agree (and I don’t with either), are two extremely different cinematic experiences. A black comedy toes the line between serious and silly, setting up unexpected punchlines through the virtue of straight-faced empathy. Some sway further into farce, such as Death at a Funeral (the original British version rather than the crass American remake), while others dive into the deep abyss armed only with an obscene quip and a cheerful thumbs-up.

Writer and director Martin McDonagh’s feature-length debut is part of the latter, dealing with several severe themes such as suicide, murder, bigotry on all spectrums, and even the fatal condition of being born a Yank, all held together by a human plot that never ceases to surprise. As the title suggests, the film takes place on the cobbled streets of ‘fairy tale’ Bruges while odd-coupled Irish hitmen hide out after a job gone wrong. Wise with a friendly demeanour and Brendan Gleeson’s characteristic pit bull glare, Ken relishes the vacation in exile while Ray (Colin Farrell) is stuck in his personal Gothic hell after completing his first job, accidently killing a kid in the process – a scene that simultaneously pulls on heart strings and lip corners.

The same is true for every miserable moment Ray endures, Farrell silently switching back and forth between broken and fragile murderer to puffed-chested Irish hooligan; obsessing over his destined place in purgatory – or hell – while spouting every derogatory remark he can muster (set in 2008, there are a lot to choose from). He is unlikable, cocky, and a lout, acting like a spoiled brat with every complaint he passes at every ‘boring’ church, yet I never hated him. Akin to Aaron Paul’s Jesse, Farrell imbues Ray with a charmed complexity, carrying an uncultured cool-factor that is both irritating and empathising.

Ken, on the other hand, is calm and collected, balancing out the double act as they pass the mundane days. At first, while the film still mostly feels like a comedy, the pair are distant from each other, but their bond doesn’t grow, rather it becomes more apparent as their situation becomes clearer. Ken isn’t just a disgruntled pro babysitting his partner, he is Ray’s mentor and friend. They may speak different forms of English and only have their nationality in common, but Ken’s flaws are masked behind Gleeson’s cheer, slowly bubbling to the surface as their friendship becomes coherent. It is done subtly, rarely ever dredging up the past but shown when they both exclaim the same reaction in unison, or in their brief but familiar bickers.

Ken distracts himself with Bruges’ beauty, which it isn’t. Bruges, while picturesque with quiet canals and European parapets, is grey, cold, and dreary. The sights are historical and overloaded with the boredom I felt as a child on school trips, their serenity always complimented with pedestrian life in a homely, calming, and familiar way. Somehow, both Ken’s awe and Ray’s distaste are present in every shot, painting the foggy Winter landscapes with appreciated melancholia. It’s a tourist trap filled with quaint character, a backdrop that is more than a setting but less than a personification.

In Bruges is certainly one of the best black comedies out there, not just because of its small but talented cast, nor its engrossing and captivating plot, but because of its never-ending series of poignant remarks that harmonise with every guttural laugh. It is a story of humanity, confused with hypocrisies and oxymoronic follies, with obsessive desires and foolish prides, with thieving codes and unlikely friendships. And, as it bustles through depressing thoughts on life’s fragility through the eyes of these sinning assassins, it still remains incredibly funny.