In the opening scenes of John Michael McDonagh’s rather violent drama (that I perversely still insist of calling a black comedy despite its tragic ending), we see a Priest taking confession from an unseen man. “I first tasted semen when I was 7 years old’ are the first words out of his mouth and then he insists on giving very graphic details about how he was repeatedly sexually abused for the next five years. Why the man has decided to finally come to deal with this matter now is unclear, but what is without doubt is the reason he has decided to speak up. He wants revenge and as he cannot exact this on the old Priest who perpetrated this as he is long gone, he has decided to kill the local priest instead. He after all represents the Church who the man feels is completely responsible, so he tells the Priest to meet him on the Beach on Sunday afternoon one week from now so that he can kill him.
Somewhat unnerved by what he has heard the Priest goes about his usual business during the next week in this small Irish costal town whilst he tries to fathom out if he really is about to meet his Maker. The village is full of a cast of colorful and unbalanced characters that doesn’t help the Cleric’s search as too who has levied the threat at him. Could it be the manic local butcher who beats his wife up so bad that she attends Mass in oversized Chanel sunglasses to hide the evidence? She makes no secret that her lover is the local mechanic and as an African Immigrant who he is definitely the only black man in the village. Then there is the local Doctor who makes no bones of the fact that he is a fervent atheist, or a local miserable millionaire whose wealth has been the ruin of him. There’s the seriously sex-starved young man who is looking for an outlet for his violent impulses, and an old American writer about to prepare for his own impending death.
The local Police Inspector is no help at all as he is busy being serviced by outrageous male prostitute that he must have had shipped in from the nearest big town, and the Bishop, like most high ranking men of the Cloth can only offer platitudes that are so useless in real life.
McDonagh uses this all as background for a lot of soul-searching about the faith of the Catholic Church in general, and their entrenched stance of not confronting their legacy of obscene and heartless child abuse in particular. Everyone true to their Irish genetics has an opinion and needs to share it, and by the end although we cannot condone the extreme action that is possibly about to take place, we do at least get to understand it.
The movie works so brilliantly thanks to the powerful performance of Brendon Gleason, re-united again with McDonagh after their blissfully funny ‘The Guard’ (which is still the most successful Irish Independent movie of all time). Gleason is so perfect in this role written for him as the gruff overweight priest with his own unsettling past (his adult daughter pays him a visit after her latest failed suicide attempt). He tries not just to reason with every one of his rather unbalanced parishioners but insists on seeing the best in everyone. Gleason’s Priest is convinced that his faith will see him through, and we believe him too. We are both wrong.
Great supporting cast that included Chris O’Dowd as the mad butcher, Aiden Gillen as the atheist Doctor, Isaach De Bankole as the lover, M Emmet Walsh as the Writer, Gary Lydon as the gay Police Inspector and Kelly Reilly as the Priest’s daughter.
And the reason that I insist on labeling this a comedy of sorts is because that as McDonagh showed us in ‘The Guard’ he has an inspired talent for getting such wickedly funny edgy humor out of the most bizarre of situations.