Calvary
Black comedies have a habit of descending into snark, but here the balance feels just right.
Overview
The sophomore film from John Michael McDonagh, Calvary begins with a simple conversation that sets the scene for everything that's to come. As the camera holds on the face of the quiet Father James (Brendan Gleeson), we listen to a man give confession. A victim of childhood sexual assault, the unseen man outlines the horrors that were inflicted on him by one of James's fellow members of the clergy. Now an adult, the man wants justice, but his assailant has long since died. So he has decided to murder James instead, giving the priest until the following Sunday to get his affairs in order.
There are certainly similarities between Calvary and McDonough's previous film, the potty-mouthed buddy-cop comedy The Guard. Both feature standout performances from Brendon Gleeson, both have a distinctively un-PC sense of humour, and both populate their rural Irish setting with a collection of colourful characters. Dylan Moran, Chris O'Dowd and Game of Thrones' Aidan Gillen play a few of the more memorable townsfolk, any one of whom could be the murderer in waiting.
McDonagh's comic pen is incredibly sharp, mixing caustic wisecracks with bemused non sequiturs and moments of perfectly timed profanity. But much more so than in The Guard, the humour here is heavily shaded with melancholy. McDonagh downplays the mystery; there's a feeling that it doesn't really matter who is planning to kill Father James, who does little to avoid his preordained fate. He himself is innocent, but knows that others in his station were not. Perhaps he feels obligated to do penance on their behalf.
Certainly, the Irish felt the shock of the Catholic sex abuse scandals more than most. As Father James visits his parishioners for what may be the very last time, he's witness to a community scarred by cynicism and mistrust. His sense of personal isolation is enhanced by the rocky coastal setting, as bleak and unforgiving as it is beautiful.
Gleeson's performance is one of the best of his career, full of wit, weariness and dignity. Father James is a good man, and no fool. Yet he's increasingly out of place in a world that is rapidly losing its faith. McDonagh tackles big ideas, from the need (or lack thereof) for organised religion to questions of death, responsibility and forgiveness. Blessedly, whenever things threaten to become too heady, McDonagh grounds them with a moment of deadpan comic relief.
It's an incredible tightrope act. Black comedies have a habit of descending into snark, but here the balance feels just right. Tonally, emotionally and spiritually complex, Calvary comes highly recommended.