Review of The Crying Game

Neil Jordan's award winning The Crying Game is famous for its big twist halfway through. When the film was released in 1992, the twist was largely kept secret by reviewers and became the stuff of legend; it's now quite well-known of course, although its dramatic impact remains unaffected even if it is neither shocking nor surprising anymore. But there's considerably more to The Crying Game than a single twist. Jordan both wrote and directed the film, and his screenplay is interesting in that it features as the main protagonist an IRA volunteer with whom the audience is expected to sympathise, and indeed does. That in itself was a bold move for a British film made in 1992, although the fact that said volunteer's two IRA colleagues are ruthless killers whose on-screen transgressions are ultimately rewarded with their deaths arguably balances this out. Nevertheless, Jordan's script is brave in tackling the subject. The story concerns Stephen Rea's Fergus, the aforementioned volunteer who becomes complicit in the kidnapping of a British soldier - Forest Whitaker's Jody - and ends up bonding with him, to the alarm of IRA members Maguire (Adrian Dunbar) and Jude (Miranda Richardson). Fergus finds that he is unable to execute Jody, who instead dies ironically when he accidentally runs beneath the wheels of a British Army vehicle, prompting Fergus to head to London in search of Jody's girlfriend Dil. Jordan tries to avoid writing his characters as good or evil, with Fergus spending the whole film questioning himself and changing as a result, and Jody frankly telling Fergus that he joined the British Army not to fight the Irish, but because he simply needed a job. It would be inaccurate to say that The Crying Game is a serious study of the Troubles, which are essentially just used as background, but that in itself makes the film stand out. Once Fergus moves to London however, it becomes about something else entirely, as he falls in love with Jaye Davidson's Dil and is horrified to discover that she has an entirely unexpected penis. Despite Fergus initially reacting by striking Dil before vomiting, he ultimately realises that he still loves her, allowing the film to continue its trajectory as a love story; things go awry however when Maguire and Jude track Fergus down and forcibly recruit him for an IRA operation. Some modern reviewers tend to describe Dil as "trans", interpreting the character as a transgender woman, although Jordan intended Dil to be a transvestite, thus forcing Fergus to deal with the fact that he is in love with a man. Either way, the fact that he ultimately accepts Dil was quite progressive for 1992. More importantly in plot terms, it explores the theme of identity; not Dil's, but rather Fergus's, as he turns his back on his both his IRA past and his previous convictions about his sexuality. A large part of the film's success lies in the performances, especially those of Stephen Rea and Jaye Davidson, who establish a convincing on-screen chemistry (made all the more impressive by the fact that Davidson had never acted before but still gives an utterly convincing, electrifying performance). But Jordan gets great performances out of all the cast members, with Richardson and Dunbar giving naturalistic performances in their roles, and Jim Broadbent getting a lovely supporting role as sage bartender Col. Whitaker's English accent is variable, but his heartfelt performance is crucial to the first half of the film, even if he is a bit fat for a squaddie. The characterisation generally works well, and there's an undercurrent of black humour running through the film, with some witty dialogue especially during the scene at the building site when Dil comes to see Fergus after she gets his apology note. Despite the film concluding with Fergus in prison, it ends on an optimistic note, with Dil visiting and waiting for him to be released. The film's polished visuals are typical of Jordan, who favours dynamic camerawork, with frequent use of tracking shots. The film is shot largely on location, which gives it an added air of realism. In a particularly nice touch, after Fergus finds out the truth about Dil and returns to bar, the camera lingers on the other patrons, reflecting his realisation of what he - and probably most of the audience - missed before. There's a great partly diagetic soundtrack too. The Crying Game made a splash in 1992 because of the shock revelation that Dil had a penis; it's reputation has endured because it doesn't just rely on a twist, but because it is a well directed film with a well written screenplay.