Neil Jordan | The Crying Game / 1992

the frog and the scorpion

by Douglas Messerli

 

Neil Jordan (screenplay and director) The Crying Game / 1992

 

This is a warning: I not only will reveal the secret of The Crying Game, which—evidently millions of viewers have not—but I will insist this is not really an LGBTQ movie. Although its hero, Fergus (Stephen Rea) holds the penis of his Black soldier prisoner, later visits gay bars several times, and has sex with a transgendered man two times, he is a heterosexual, who has no knowledge of the events, and, once discovering her sexuality—even after vomiting—viciously protects her by admitting to killing her attacker, Jude (Miranda Richardson). Fergus' only failure is that he cannot kill anyone, even though he is a former IRA terrorist.

     Although, with Jude and Maguire (Adrian Dunbar) Fergus has kidnapped the black British soldier, he clearly does not have the stomach for the events which follow, including keeping the prisoner with a sack over his head and, ultimately, murdering him in retribution for British occupation in Northern Ireland. In his attempt to remain alive, the soldier, Jody (Forest Whitaker) analyzes his captors, recognizing Fergus as "the kind one," and using Fergus' reticence as a tool to control him. The cold-hearted Jude and Maguire are adamant that the prisoner be kept quite literarily "in the dark," but Fergus removes the sack and even holds the cuffed man's penis so that he might urinate. The two quickly and quietly bond, Jody even revealing a picture of his special love back in London, Dil, and asking, if he is killed, for Fergus to take care of her.

     This long, somewhat rambling first part of the film is a rough but necessary introduction to the characters, who will play out their psychological beings later in the work. Indeed, Fergus is told a story by the perceptive Jody early on about a frog who agrees to carry a scorpion upon its back across a river, during which the scorpion bites him, dooming, quite obviously, both animals. When asked by the frog why the scorpion has bitten him, the scorpion replies: "It's in my nature."

     Accordingly, when ordered to kill Jody, Fergus balks, allowing Jody to run from him through the woods, but, as Jody crosses the road to safety, one of his own unit's tanks accidently runs him down, and he is killed. The IRA quarters is blown up, with Jude and Maguire miraculously escaping.

     The second half of the film also begins slowly, with Fergus, now in London, tracking down Dil (Jaye Davidson) working in a hair salon, gradually beginning to study her, "giving her the look," as she describes it to the bartender, Col (Jim Broadbent). The two begin a romance, with Dil enacting fellatio.

     Each time he visits the nearby club, he and the audience observe slight changes. The bar seems less glittery, the clientele stranger. A regular, Dil sings "The Crying Game," which is itself an oddly sad song about the impossibility and transitoriness of love:

 

                      I know all there is to know about the crying game

                      I've had my share of the crying game

                      First there are kisses, then there are sighs

                      And then before you know where you are, you're saying goodby

 

Before long, the perceptive viewer begins to suspect what is revealed in the couple's second sexual encounter: Dil is a transgendered male. Fergus is disgusted and accidently hits her in his rush to the bathroom. A few days go by.

     Yet the relationship between the two is still viable, and, although he no longer is sexually attracted, he does send her a note, she remaining loyal to him despite his actions. She even visits him at his work site, where he is helping to build an apartment building.

                                  Fergus: What are you doing here?

                                  Dil: Got your note. So let's kiss and make up, honey.

                                  Fergus: Don't call me that.

                                  Dil: Sorry, darling.

                                  Fergus: Stop it, Dil.

                                  Dil: Apologies, my sweet.

     At this point Jude and Maguire reenter the scene, insisting—since Fergus has failed in the other incident—that he join them in a planned assignation of a British political figure. Although at first he attempts to reject involvement, Jude's hint that she knows about his relationship with Dil, forces him to realize that if he does not join them, Dil is in danger.

     To protect Dil, Fergus attempts to transform her back into her male being, forcing her to cut her hair and dress in shirt and pants. The transition is a failure, as Dil now looks more like a young ungainly boy than the beautiful woman he previously was, and Dil gets drunk, demanding that he stay with her for the night. Fergus agrees, also admitting his involvement in Jody's death. Before he can leave the next morning Dil has tied him to the bed, unwittingly preventing him from participating in the murder which might save her life. Holding Fergus at gunpoint she demands that he tell her he loves her: even if he's lying, she admits, it's nice to hear his words.

       When the furious Jude shows up, Dil turns the gun on her, shooting and killing her before attempting to turn the gun on herself. But Fergus prevents her, telling her to hide out at the club, while he wipes her fingerprints off the gun, allowing himself to be arrested for Jude's death.

       Fergus, now in prison, is visited by Dil. Still amazed by his actions, she promises to wait for him, recognizing him as "the love of her life":

 

                      No greater love as the man says. I wish you'd tell me why.

 

Whereupon Fergus retells the story of the frog and scorpion.

     At film's end, we believe that they will stay together. As he admits, his acts are simply part of his nature. And love is part of that makeup. As Col has said earlier on: "Who knows the secrets of the human heart?" No matter how the audience views transvestism or trans-gendered people, by seeing the relationship develop through Fergus' view, it cannot help but hope for the fulfillment of a standard love story. Love simply must win out. And, in this sense, it is not a "gay" love story, but a heterosexual one with an odd twist, a "straight" story about two heterosexual men who have fallen in love—unless Fergus can come to terms with Dil as a transgender woman and establish a relationship.

     If he is able, unlike the outsiders who buy into the system in work such as Stephen Frear’s My Beautiful Lauderette (1985, with which I originally paired this reading), Jordon's insiders—both of them representing, at least on the surface, versions of normality—may be able to break outside of society, offering themselves a new way of living life.

                      

Los Angeles, March 10-11, 2012

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (March 2012).