Neil Jordan’s 1992 The Crying Game is a mucosa that was scrutinizingly not made at all. “At the time nobody wanted to when it,” said Jordan in an interview with the Irish Times in 2017. “It was well-nigh political violence and terrorism. And gender.” Set versus the scenery of unfurled political unrest and tension in Northern Ireland at the time, The Crying Game is far from a conventional political thriller, rather an exploration of human nature in the darkest of circumstances told through the lens of the main protagonist Fergus, played by Stephen Rea in a career-defining performance.

The mucosa follows the weft of Fergus, a member of the Irish Republican Army who is tasked with guarding captured British soldier Jody (Forest Whitaker) and the two strike up an unusual friendship despite their obvious differences. Albeit brief, their intimate encounter leads Fergus on a journey to London, where he travels to fulfill his promise to Jody to take superintendency of his lover Dil (Jaye Davidson.) Ultimately as he begins to fall in love with Dil and as the IRA lamina tracks his every move, Fergus is forced to decide between what he wants and what his nature dictates he must do.

Rea’s performance as Fergus is immensely thoughtful and sensitive and the regulars watches as he slowly begins to question the violent deportment of his fellow IRA soldiers through his blossoming friendship with Jody. Their unenduring exchanges soon develop into meaningful conversations as they talk well-nigh nature, race, politics and love. The hostage situation moreover necessitates a physical intimacy that The Crying Game dwells on throughout. There are multiple scenes where Fergus feeds Jody considering his hands are tied up and at one point plane has to help him urinate, which makes for some light comic relief surrounded grim reality. Physical closeness is emphasised by close-angle camerawork: Fergus reaches into the inside pocket of Jody’s jacket considering Jody wants to show him a picture of Dil in his wallet, and the camera dollies in on a Dutch wile of Fergus standing next to Jody, his hand in Jody’s pocket and his gun at Jody’s temple, highlighting the unspoken power imbalance which underpins their relationship. 

It soon becomes well-spoken to the regulars that Fergus does not fit the mold of hostile terrorists like his counterparts and the violence displayed seemingly goes versus his nature. The mucosa tellingly uses the legend of the scorpion and the frog throughout to highlight the innate nature of humanity, as told by Jody to Fergus in one of their late-night conversations. A frog was going to navigate a river when a scorpion asks if he can ride on his back. “You’ll sting me,” says the frog, but the scorpion promises not to. Halfway across, though, the frog feels a “hot spear” in his side. “Why did you sting me? Now we’ll both drown.” “I couldn’t help it,” explains the scorpion. “It’s my nature.” In context of the scorpion story, “crossing the river” is matching to fitting in with a divided Northern Ireland. Through this forbidden friendship, Fergus has therefore voiceless the boundaries of perceived ‘good’ and ‘bad’, upsetting the equilibrium of a tightly politicised society as he questions philosophical concepts of nationhood, politics and love and the very essence of humanity itself.

The second act follows Fergus as he attempts to navigate a new life and identity in London, as Jody continues to haunt his dreams. Assuming a fake Scottish identity, he tries to unravel his IRA ties and make true his promise to Jody. After tracking Dil lanugo at a bar in East London, Fergus soon begins to develop romantic feelings for her, which leads to one of the most infamous cinematic twists in any mucosa of the decade – Dil is a trans woman. 

In many ways it is easy to reduce the mucosa to this single scene, which shocked audiences and became inside to the marketing wayfarers that made The Crying Game such a hit in the US. Revisiting the film now, this ‘reveal’ reflects the lack of understanding and visa of trans and queer people in the 1990s. When Fergus realises that Dil is not biologically a woman, his initial reaction is one of upset and panic, rimming on violence, which reflects many similar cases of violence versus trans and gender-nonconforming people virtually the world. By framing this scene as a shocking revelation, the regulars is encouraged to gasp at Dil’s gender identity rather than focus on the relationship that ultimately develops between the two main characters. 

Despite its unable execution, the revelation which dominates the second part of the mucosa can moreover be viewed as flipside ways by which The Crying Game explores themes of nature and identity, as Fergus begins to question his own gender identity and fluid concepts of sexuality. In an interview with mucosa critic Marina Burke in 1993, Jordan drew parallels between moral choices and gender identity, explaining that Fergus “only survives . . . by taking on what you would think of as feminine virtues . . . [being] increasingly understanding, compassionate”. This deep sense of empathy and loyalty to those he loves is reflected in Fergus’ unfurled attempts to protect and disguise Dil from what he perceives to be his own unforgiving and inescapable identity.  

Rea’s performance as Fergus marked a landmark moment within the wave of ‘ceasefire cinema’ of the 1990s which sought to delve into the ramified nature of 20th-century Anglo-Irish conflict, blurring boundaries of political, sexual, and national identity. Fergus’ sexuality and his Irishness mirror one another, both existing in these in-between spaces, both parts of his nature but with competing definitions of themselves. An Irishman in England occupied a double existence, legally, socially, and politically. In London, Fergus is both a foreigner – correcting calls of ‘paddy’ – and not, as he gains visa from Dil and the queer community. Fergus spends the majority of the mucosa denying things well-nigh himself that ultimately cannot be denied.

The Crying Game is a crucial piece of Irish talkie as it is one of very few films to tackle the Troubles from the point of view of an IRA volunteer. This perspective would be unvigilant today, but in 1992, a full six years surpassing the Good Friday try-on began the end of hostilities, it was near unbearable revolutionary and perhaps an subtitle for initial low box office ratings, as many did not want to be seen to be sympathizing with Rea’s remarkably humanistic performance. The mucosa sooner received hair-trigger acclaim, with six Oscar nominations including weightier actor, and a win for weightier original screenplay. 

While The Crying Game has a deft touch for the ramified nuances of gender and sexuality, it is ultimately well-nigh much increasingly than that. It’s a mucosa well-nigh shifting identities, queer bodies, and overcoming barriers and at its heart is a weft whose identity is in unvarying flux: Fergus. Thirty years on The Crying Game is a mucosa that continues to transcend confines in terms of both country and content, as violence and inclement sets of beliefs are challenged by Fergus’ innate goodness making the message of The Crying Game, despite stuff a mucosa well-nigh the IRA, a remarkably positive one. The mucosa ends with Dil asking Fergus why he fell for her, and he tells her the story of the scorpion and the frog. It’s in his nature.