Review | Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri (2017 / 115 minutes / US)
Losing a loved one is traumatic and scarcely any outrages equal to that over an unresolved murder as the cause. Personifying this fury in director Martin McDonagh’s Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri is pink-collar matriarch, Mildred Hayes, played by award-winning actress Frances McDormand.
Following the rape-murder of her daughter and frustrated over the lack of progress in investigations, Mildred decides to call out a small town sheriff for his supposed incompetency. This she does so by having emblazoned an 11-word message across three roadside billboards mocking at Chief Willoughby’s (Woody Harrelson) inability to apprehend the killer.
Ebbing is no big city and sullying Willoughby’s good name wins Mildred no sympathy from its closely-knitted community. Giving no damns in response, she is a walking wrecking ball of political incorrectness as McDormand pulls out all the stops in showing just how unlikeable Mildred can get.
The Coen Brothers alumnus (McDormand is married to the other half of the filmmaking duo) effortlessly conveys her protagonist’s near nihilistic tendencies: Mildred could guillotine a person’s dignity with ease, as with the scene where she humiliates a priest for his Roman Catholic background. Not one to shy away from violence, she unremorsefully injures the town’s dentist in one tense session.
McDonagh’s neatly carved screenplay offers its leading character relative freedom for her no-holds-barred indignation. But the untamed temperament of Mildred is delicately offset by nuances of compassion; with every reason to hate Willoughby, she expresses horrified concern as the latter seriously falls ill during an interrogation.
That moment hints to the undercurrents which rouse Three Billboards: complex moral politics which more often than not wade in their grey areas.
For all her rage over a perceived injustice, not much of Mildred’s extremities can be warranted; then again, she is not all unburdened by the collateral damages she triggers. Willoughby, an authoritarian with his unapologetic patriarchy, has to grapple with death as a terminal cancer sufferer.
And there is Willoughby’s pugnacious and immature subordinate, Jason Dixon (Sam Rockwell), a pitiful moron who confuses being a good cop with one that swaggers. His clumsiness to assert himself further dismantles his official capacity.
The performances of those three personalities are a collective tour de force: McDormand, Harrelson and Rockwell exude their characters’ flaws and vulnerabilities with unfeigned certitude. On the basis of their remarkable efforts, Three Billboards preoccupies itself with hopeless individuals (especially Mildred and Jason) doing what they assume is right, even if their questionable deeds and stunted judgements make them their own worst enemy.
The other supporting characters of Three Billboards’ impressive cast possess quirks which suggest they could have stepped out of a Coen-inspired line-up. Red Welby (Caleb Landry Jones), who rents to Mildred the billboards for her message, is an awkward oddball and seems to be the very few people remotely interested in what she’s doing. Momma Dixon (Sandy Martin) is the overly accommodating parent who could care less about her son, Jason, to actually grow up as she appears easily contented with his lack of life success. Peter Dinklage plays James, a car salesman, who looks to be the only nice guy in Ebbing and somehow feels affection for Mildred.
None will, in any way, resolve the woes of Mildred though Three Billboards wonders if her vindication or even redemption is really the point. We are supposed to assume that she has every right to be angry, yet disapprove the harshness of her demeanour. That she may never find the answer to her daughter’s death (whom she rashly wishes would get raped when the latter was alive), apparently, would leave Mildred in her perpetual turmoil; no light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, so to speak.
This is why the unvarnished view of Three Billboards’ humanity stands out: against the bleakness of her situation, Mildred’s unrepentant and misguided persistence is perhaps her only reason for living. McDormand facilely emanates the unfiltered persona of her character through her confrontational relations with just nearly anyone, including her abusive ex-husband (John Hawkes) who digs at her failure as a mum.
Rockwell’s portrayal of Jason, a casual racist, should be noted too for accentuating the unpretentious disposition of Ebbing’s town folks. All these coupled with an honest screenplay that has no qualms about rude surprises and the unlikely pairing of some of its personalities.
While Three Billboards is not really a crime story, it harbours no illusion about its characters having their better tomorrows. This may come off as depressing but Mildred’s dogged eagerness does earn her a peculiar and uneasy admiration.
It is, after all, her raw will to survive that is at the heart of Three Billboards — the film wisely commits to this sentiment unflinchingly without making do with conclusive closures.
Mildred and her acquaintances probably deserve more; within Three Billboards’ frank social perspective, this is not how life works out.
