Martin McDonagh made something of a name for himself in 2008 when he directed the fast-talking In Bruge. It received mostly positive reviews from critics, but among audiences it quickly became something of a cult classic. The same is true of McDonagh’s next film, 2012’s Seven Psychopaths. Both are the kind of films that the over-eager fledgling film enthusiast recommends to those they perceive to be cinematically illiterate. I typically respond well to cult films, but neither of McDonagh’s previous works resonated with me, in part because of the overwhelming feeling that the dialog was lifted directly from a Coen brothers script. They were, in my opinion, slightly above-average, but nothing I would have remembered long-term without the McDonagh fan-boys.
Perhaps the fan-boys were right. Three Billboards is the director’s third film, and it’s vastly superior to In Bruge and Seven Psychopaths. It’s very much a McDonagh movie, but this time around, the Coen Bros similarities are earned. This script is incredible, and even very minor roles feel like fleshed-out characters.
There may be spoilers beyond this point.
The beloved Frances McDormand stars as Mildred, the kind of hard-ass female character that we’ve been conditioned to love. Her teenage daughter was raped and murdered, and the culprit has never been identified. In an effort to goad the police into working a little harder to find her daughter’s killer, she rents out the titular three billboards and posts some rather inflammatory remarks about local law enforcement. In particular, Mildred sets her sights on the police chief, played by Woody Harrelson.
The cast here is absolutely stellar. McDormand has been getting serious attention for her lead performance, but it’s the supporting characters that give us the sense that the town of Ebbing, Missouri is alive on screen. Peter Dinklage plays James, a little person who has a serious infatuation with Mildred in spite of her cruelty and dismissiveness toward him. Sam Rockwell is the racist, almost child-like officer with dreams of becoming a “real cop”. John Hawkes is the vindictive ex-husband of Mildred, who blames her for his daughter’s death. Lucas Hedges plays Mildred’s son, constantly dragged into her theatrics as he endures life as a high school student in a town where everybody knows your business. Sandy Martin is Dixon’s strange mother, essentially playing a more fleshed-out version of her character in It’s Always Sunny. There are more notable supporting actors, but I want to focus on one in particular:
Caleb.
Landry.
Jones.
I’ve been watching this young actor for a number of years now after his fantastic performance in Brandon Cronenberg’s Antiviral, a film I enjoyed immensely, although I completely understand those who find it boring. After hoping beyond hope that Jones would garner the recognition he deserves, 2017 gifted us with four notable CLJ roles: Get Out, Twin Peaks: The Return, The Florida Project, and now Three Billboards. In previous films, he’s proven that he excels at playing grotesque, bat-shit characters, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. This time, Jones is a mildly-fishy young businessman with a good heart, and one of his final scenes is a major highlight of this film for me.
One of the most enjoyable aspects of Three Billboards is the way the plot unfolds. There are many instances throughout the film where the audience is presented with a scenario that is in no way unique. An absolutely atrocious character embarks on what almost seems like a redemption arc. Two little girls are left alone to play by a river in the woods while mommy and daddy go off to have “adult time”. A man who is assaulted ends up in the same hospital room as his assailant. Three Billboards takes great pleasure in turning these conventions around.
The atrocious character, rather than pulling a 180, performs a few good deeds in an effort to do the right thing for once, but remains a racist bastard. The two little girls playing by the river don’t drown, and are completely fine. The assaulted man offers his assailant a glass of orange juice before realizing his identity, and upon becoming fully aware of the situation, pours the glass of orange juice anyway and sits back down. These situations prevent the film from being obnoxiously predictable, while building suspense based on our own subconscious knowledge of cinematic tropes. It’s a brilliantly subversive tactic that’s often used in slasher film fake-out scares, but it’s used here to far greater effect.
In a similar vein, Three Billboards refuses to forgive its characters’ bad behavior. Quite often, a character like Mildred will always be in the moral right. She’s lost a child, and her actions are easily reconciled by our sympathy for a grieving mother. Instead, Mildred is an asshole. When we flash back to “pre-incident” Mildred, she’s not a happy-go-lucky housewife, living out her idyllic life in a suburban Stepford facsimile. She’s a bitter, grouchy mother, constantly at odds with her children about petty things. She’s the kind of mother who would say, “I hope you get raped and murdered on your way to school.”
Really, the more praise I shower upon this movie, the more I feel like I’m beating a dead horse, especially since it’s a front-runner for best picture at this year’s Academy Awards. Just know that it’s not in that position for arbitrary reasons.
10/10