If the very first scene of Calvary doesn’t immediately draw you in there’s every chance there is something seriously wrong with you and I would urge you to book an appointment with your GP. It is a terrific opening and it takes place in Ireland, in a Catholic church, within the dark, intimacy of a confessional box, as Father James (Brendan Gleeson) listens to a voice from the other side of the partition recounting how he was repeatedly sexually abused by a priest when he was a child. This parishioner wants revenge, but as his abuser is now dead, he will kill Father James instead, in a week, on the beach. What better way, in fact, to get back at the Church than to murder a good priest, an innocent, and on a Sunday too? Father James knows who this person is, while we do not, so it isn’t a whodunnit. It’s a who-is-going-do-it, if-it-is-done. Hooked? Thought so but, if not, there are pills for this, I think. Best ask your GP.
This is the second film from writer-director John Michael McDonagh whose first, The Guard, also starring Gleeson, rightly made quite a splash. That was a black comedy, as is this, although this is a blacker comedy — around 72 per cent blacker, I would estimate — and given to existential riffs. It initially positions itself as that thriller but, before you know it, as it shifts so subtly and organically, you are in a different territory altogether, and considering life, death, forgiveness, redemption, the legacy of the Church’s sex scandals, and even whether existence has any meaning at all. It’s a sort of Waiting for Godot, but with plot, and if Waiting for Godot, but with plot, doesn’t do it for you, then this is something else you might wish to mention to your doctor. (It may even require one of those emergency appointments you can never make because the surgery’s phone line is constantly engaged.)
Shot against the rocky beauty of County Sligo, with waves crashing on to the cliffs, Father James meditates on his dilemma — should he tell the police, and name his potential killer? — while also visiting members of his community. Although Father James isn’t saintly, as he’s given to sarcasm and has a weakness for booze, he is a decent, compassionate and benevolent man, not that anyone appreciates this. The local villagers are twisted, often comically so, but still twisted, and such a torment. The local butcher (Chris O’Dowd) may be beating up his wife. The wife (Orla O’Rourke) is kinky and promiscuous and sleeping with the car mechanic (Isaach De Bankolé). The doctor (Aidan Gillen) is misanthropic and cold-hearted. The police inspector (Gary Lydon) pays for sex with a rent boy (Owen Sharpe). The rich man (Dylan Moran) up at the big house is a lonely drunk. And as they’ve have all given up on faith, in one way or another, each could be the one who-is-going-to-do-it, if-it-is-done.
Not much solace for Father James, aside from his dog (Bruno; golden retriever) and a visit from his daughter (Kelly Reilly), conceived before he took the cloth, but she is fresh from a suicide attempt, so has her own troubles. Doesn’t sound too jolly, I know, but it crackles along, with tremendous dialogue, and Gleeson is on fantastic form. A big man, who looks as if he routinely polishes off a big Irish breakfast every morning, black pudding and everything, he acts with great delicacy, exceptional layering, and with the ability to seem as if he’s acquiring different kind of heaviness, one that is spiritual. It’s as if he is carrying the weight of everyone else’s sins, and the worry is: might he have to die for them? (This is a particular worry as ‘Calvary’ refers to the place where Christ was crucified.) But, like I said, it crackles along, so brilliantly you won’t realise the questions — can the Church offer succour when it is morally broken itself? When it hasn’t cared for its own innocent victims? — are actually being asked. You just absorb them along the way, as the narrative carries you forward, and the clock counts down, in its High Noon-ish way.
So this is a film that starts as one thing then becomes about everything, and if you can’t get to grips with that then, frankly, you need to start dialling the surgery now. (You still won’t get an appointment, but at least you’re trying.)
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