Stephen Rea is Fergus, an IRA terrorist who has participated in the abduction of British soldier Jody (Forrest Whitaker) in order to release a captive of their own. During his captivity, Fergus and Jody become relatively close friends, sharing preferences about where they would rather be and what they would rather be doing. Jody defends cricket as the ultimate man's sport, relates the story of the scorpion and the frog (1), and seems to scoff at Fergus's notion that Britain getting out of Ireland is a "simple" solution. Jody also invites Fergus to take a look at a picture of his girl, the dark-haired, exotic-looking Dil (Jaye Davidson). "You wouldn't like her," Jody warns him. "She's not your type."

Eventually, word comes down that Jody must be executed, and Fergus volunteers for the job. When told his fate, a sobbing Jody asks Fergus to go find Dill in London and tell her his last thoughts before death were about him. Jody tries to run away and Fergus makes a halfhearted attempt to stop him, but when Jody reaches the road he is run down by the military convoy sent to rescue him. All the IRA terrorists are struck down in a hail of bullets, except for Fergus, who makes his way off and into London to "lose himself for a while."

Fergus eventually finds Dil and becomes enamored with her. The two strike up a relationship, growing closer and closer, after a fashion, until they go to bed together, which is when Dil reveals a large, hairy prick, and Fergus realizes that he's been making out with a man all along. Understandably, he retches and bolts. We feel the same desire sitting in the theater.

For the casual theatergoer, the party stops here, but actually this is where the film really starts digging deeply into human nature. Fergus can't quite quit Dil, and we can't tell whether it's because he still feels love for her (him, really) divorced from sexuality or whether it's over obligation to the dead Jody, whom he has not yet brought up. He questions Dil constantly about Jody's things (there is a cricket outfit hung up on the wall, which Fergus constantly dreams of Jody wearing) and about Jody himself. Dil also can't quit Fergus, and seems to understand she would be better off if she could. When the IRA hunts Fergus down and forces him to work with them on another terrorist act, threatening Dil if he doesn't comply, Fergus has to keep Dil safe without letting her know what's going on, while indulging her in her illusion of womanhood. In short, everyone is being duplicitous in a sense, and it all comes down to which people act according to their nature (the scorpion) and which do not (the frog).

Jordan's dialogue is witty and moving, and Rea and Davidson have a chemistry that is not to be understated. In almost every scene they have together, their actions, motions and vocal inflections cry out for empathy and connection, and their whole interchange seems to spell out a love story without being precisely a love story. Perhaps I'm generalizing by characterizing the public's reaction to the movie as revolted, but ask the typical person on the street about The Crying Game and you're likely to get a disgusted look and warding off gesture. "That's the one with the dick scene," I keep hearing. "I don't watch dick scenes." Such principles.

--Long

Note: For those who don't know, the story goes like this. A scorpion tries to hitch a ride across a river on a frog's back. The frog balks, saying the scorpion will sting him if he takes him across, but the scorpion reminds him that if he did, they would both drown. The frog thinks about it and agrees. Halfway across the river, the scorpion stings him. As they go down, the frog cries out, "Why did you sting me, Mr. Scorpion? Now we both drown!" And the scorpion basically says, "Look asshole, you knew I was a scorpion. I can't help it. It's in my nature."
Back

Copyright 2002 Tso Long Productions ©