Released in 1992 and directed by Neil Jordan, *The Crying Game* is more than a political thriller. It is a profound meditation on the fluidity of human nature and the unexpected paths to redemption.
"Some movies keep you guessing. Some movies make you care. Once in a long while a movie comes along that does both things at the same time. It's not easy."
Film opens at a Belfast carnival, where British soldier Jody (Forest Whitaker) is lured away by an Irish woman, Jude (Miranda Richardson), and kidnapped by the IRA. Held hostage as the IRA negotiates for an exchange of prisoners with the RUC, Jody makes friends with his captor. When their deadline comes to pass, Fergus’ superior, Maguire (Adrian Dunbar), orders him to lead Jody into the woods; as he does, the prisoner begins to run and Fergus cannot shoot him in the back. Fergus finds himself running with Jody to escape.
Fergus escapes to London, where he's wanted by the law for Jody's kidnapping and also by his former girlfriend, IRA operative Jude (Miranda Richardson), who thinks he knows too much to fall into the hands of the British authorities.
Warning: This is the kind of movie that inspires enthusiastic discussions afterward. People want to talk about it. Don't let them talk to you. "The Crying Game" needs to be seen with as close to an open mind as possible, and anyone who tells you too much about the film is not doing you a favor. I would prefer, in fact, that you put this review aside until you see the film. If you read on, I will do my best not to spoil your own discoveries.
The peculiar thing about "The Crying Game" is that this story outline, while true, hardly suggests the actual content of this film.
https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/the-crying-game-1992Neil Jordan's daring film, The Crying Game, is hard to label or describe, because it doesn't readily conform to any recognizable genre. The movie successfully blends conventions of a Hitchcockian suspense film, sexual thriller, and political drama. But the miracle about Jordan's work is that despite numerous twists and turns, it still registers as a highly coherent and elegant movie, one that probes human relationships much deeper than any American film in recent years.
From the very first image, a traveling shot of what seems to be two lovers, a white woman named Jude (Miranda Richardson), and a black British soldier named Jody, (Forest Whitaker) in an amusement park, writer-director Jordan builds psychological tension that continues up to the very end of his taut narrative. Indeed, it turns out they are false lovers: Richardson is actually an I.R.A. agent who sets up a trap for Jody as a hostage.
The Crying Game is a complex tale of the intricate effects of sex, gender, race, and politics on our identities and interactions. The beauty of the film is that it shows how these powerful factors serve as masks that once removed, strip us to a level of humanity that is at once frightening (because of its vulnerability) and exhilarating.
With all its bleak, pessimistic beginning, the movie's last shot of two unlikely lovers communicating through the glass partition of a London prison, makes The Crying Game one of the most riveting and hopeful films I have seen in years.
Neil Jordan is one of the most intriguing chameleons in modern cinema. He exists in a rare space: a highly accomplished, lyrical Irish novelist who happens to direct visually lush, genre-subverting films.
Whether he is working on a micro-budget indie in Dublin or a sprawling Hollywood studio blockbuster, Jordan’s work consistently circles back to a single preoccupation: the fluid, often deceptive nature of identity.
Jordan's filmography resists easy categorization, but a few distinct threads tie his diverse work together:
Subverting the Gothic & Fairy Tales: Long before gritty fairy tale reboots were a Hollywood trend, Jordan collaborated with Angela Carter to create The Company of Wolves (1984). He treats folklore and horror not just for scares, but as a psychoanalytic canvas to explore sexual awakening, taboo, and the monstrous nature of desire—a thread that ran straight through to Interview with the Vampire (1994).
The Complicated Politics of Empathy: Coming from Ireland, Jordan frequently tackles political violence, particularly "The Troubles," but he strips away ideological purity. In films like Angel (1982) and The Crying Game (1992), he forces characters—and the audience—to cross deep political, national, and gender boundaries to find a messy, human connection.
The Marginalized Outsider: His protagonists are almost always people living on the fringes or trapped in dual lives. Whether it is Bob Hoskins’ ex-con navigating a surreal London underworld in Mona Lisa, a reluctant IRA volunteer in London, or a gender-fluid youth looking for their mother in Breakfast on Pluto, Jordan handles his outcasts with profound tenderness.
Essential Viewings
| Film | Genre | Why It Matters |
| Mona Lisa (1986) | Neo-Noir | A brilliant, tragic character study that earned Bob Hoskins an Oscar nomination. It subverts the typical hardboiled crime detective trope into a story about naive romanticism. |
| The Crying Game (1992) | Psychological Drama / Thriller | A masterpiece of structural misdirection. Jordan won an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay for a film that completely reframed political and gender identities on screen. |
| Interview with the Vampire (1994) | Gothic Horror | Jordan brought an upscale, melancholic European art-house sensibility to a mainstream studio production, leaning heavily into the lush, homoerotic subtext of Anne Rice's source material. |
| Michael Collins (1996) | Historical Biopic | A gorgeous, epic, and highly controversial look at the Irish war of independence, anchored by a towering performance by Liam Neeson and painterly cinematography by Chris Menges. |
The Visual Signature: Jordan relies heavily on atmospheric, highly saturated lighting and dreamlike framing. He frequently collaborates with legendary cinematographers like Chris Menges and Philippe Rousselot to give his films a rich, almost tactile visual texture where shadows feel alive.
Cultural Impact and The "Secret"
The Crying Game is famous for its marketing campaign, which urged audiences: "Don't give away the secret." In 1992, the revelation of Dil's identity was a massive shock to mainstream audiences.
Significance of the Twist
Unlike many "gimmick" films, the twist in The Crying Game serves a thematic purpose. It forces both the protagonist (Fergus) and the audience to confront their own prejudices and definitions of love. Dil was one of the first trans characters in mainstream cinema to be portrayed as a complex, sympathetic, and fully realized human being rather than a villain or a punchline.
The Fable of the Scorpion and the Frog
The film frequently references this fable to suggest that people act according to their nature. Jody realizes Fergus is "kind" by nature, even though his "role" as an IRA member requires him to be a killer. This theme of innate nature versus chosen identity permeates the entire narrative.
The Title Track: The song "The Crying Game," originally a 1964 hit for Dave Berry, was re-recorded by Boy George and produced by the Pet Shop Boys. It became a major hit and served as the film's anthem.
Critical Reception and Awards
The film was a massive "sleeper hit." Despite having a small budget and initially struggling for distribution in the UK, it became a box-office success in the United States thanks to Miramax's marketing.
Academy Awards: Nominated for 6 Oscars, including Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Actor (Stephen Rea). It won Best Original Screenplay for Neil Jordan.
Jaye Davidson: Received a Best Supporting Actor nomination for his debut performance. He famously showed up to the Oscars in a dress, further blurring the lines between his character and his public persona.
BFI Top 100: In 1999, the British Film Institute ranked it as the 26th greatest British film of all time.
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