Review: Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

Image courtesy of 20th Century Fox.

Martin McDonagh's third outing as a director is not only arguably his best, but also a film that goes out of its way to challenge viewers' assumptions about and attitudes toward its characters as it deftly explores the concepts of grief and anger. This is an often very funny movie that draws humor from subjects that are not funny whatsoever. The ability to do so stems from McDonagh's talents as a writer and director and the abilities of his excellent cast.

Frances McDormand, one of our greatest actresses, is a force of nature in "Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri" as Mildred, a woman living in the titular town whose anger and grief have overwhelmed her. However, she's long past the stage of shock and ready to take action when necessary. Several months prior to the film's beginning, Mildred's teenage daughter was raped and violently murdered and Ebbing's police department has no leads or suspects.

To announce her anger over her loss as well as her frustration regarding the lack of progress in the case, Mildred - much to the dismay of virtually everyone in town - pays for the ad space on three billboards on the outskirts of town that she adorns with three messages: "Raped While Dying," "And Still No Arrests," and "How Come, Chief Willoughby?" The last message refers to the town's sheriff (Woody Harrelson), who in any other film would be the villain, but here is most likely the most sane member of the town.

Willoughby is, similar to Mildred, frustrated about the lack of clues to the murder and he only becomes the target of Mildred's billboards because he's the sheriff and, well, the buck has to stop somewhere, right? In fact, the two appear to have an element of respect for each other and Mildred gets a slight lesson in humility after finding out that Willoughby has his own cross to bear.

If anyone is hostile in "Three Billboards," it is Dixon (Sam Rockwell), the rogue, racist and violent cop for whose humanity Willoughby holds out hope, although no one else appears to do so. Other town members include a dwarf (Peter Dinklage) who harbors feelings for Mildred, the timid man (Caleb Landry Jones) who reluctantly rents the billboard space to Mildred and Mildred's ex-husband (John Hawkes), who clearly beat her and is now living with a 19-year-old girl. Mildred lives with her teenage son (Lucas Hedges), who acts as her semi-voice of reason and appears mortified by her behavior. There's a particularly unsettling scene when Mildred's ex stops by, nearly hits her, is stopped by their son and then everyone goes back to what they were doing as if the scene were routine.

There have been numerous films about people who behave very badly and we've often been forced to identify with them - in other words, the human elements of their atrocious behavior. But it's not often that we are asked to empathize with them. "Three Billboards" does this - and it's a risky move, but ultimately an effective one. Every character in the film is flawed, some more than others. We may be compassionate regarding Mildred's grief, but she's also reckless and occasionally dangerous - take, for instance, her firebombing of the police station, which results in the permanent scarring of a character. And while Dixon, at least for the film's first half, is an unrepentantly disgusting individual, we witness behavior later on that could be seen as some sort of a redemption.

"Three Billboards" is often riotously funny, but also moving in a manner that often sneaks up on you. It also feels true. The film has an ending that will likely be much discussed and debated. Some might call it abrupt, but it ends in a manner that is open ended for a specific purpose. One's take on the final scene might depend on one's view of human nature.

McDonagh's debut, "In Bruges," was a screamingly funny movie about criminals that concerned itself with elements of the soul. Its follow up, "Seven Psychopaths," was amusing, but not on par with the playwright's directorial debut. "Three Billboards" follows in the footsteps of those films in that it deals with crime and punishment and some unsavory characters. But it's also a little deeper, more melancholy and thoughtful in how it examines the grieving process. McDormand should easily earn some awards attention, but Harrelson is also great and Rockwell gives what could be the performance of his career. In other words, I'd highly recommend it.