Monday, November 20, 2017

For a Tough, Midwestern Mother, Words and Actions are Equally Powerful

Frances McDormand in "Three Billboards Outside
Ebbing, Missouri"
Photo Credit: Imdb.com
Balancing drama and humor in a film can be tricky territory in which to traverse.  If one overshadows the other, you risk losing the viewer because they won’t be sure what you’re trying to accomplish.  It takes a talented filmmaker to be able to make audiences laugh at one moment, and then gasp at the flip of a dime, all without making it feel like the director is trying too hard.  Martin McDonagh is one such individual who has accomplished this before in his films “Seven Psychopaths” and “In Bruges.”

He now brings his signature dark humor to the screen once again in his comedy-drama, “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri.”  Although this film deals with rough subject matter, he manages to show some black wit throughout the story, all with his usual mix of distinctive characters and memorable dialogue.

It’s been seven months since Mildred Hayes’ (Frances McDormand) daughter, Angela (Kathryn Newton), was murdered.  Since then, the police have given up the case, due to the lack of leads.  Mildred soon takes matters into her own hands and rents out three billboards outside of town that speak a message to Sheriff Bill Willoughby (Woody Harrelson).  He soon develops a newfound dedication to finding Angela’s killer, all while Mildred continues her own approach to solving the case.

Frances McDormand’s character is like the antithesis of her role as police chief Marge Gunderson in 1996’s “Fargo,” who was someone who made sure that justice was served; but in this case, McDormand inhabits someone who does so by using methods that are much more radical (the fact that the names of the two characters are similar should elicit a chuckle).  She brings a fiercely funny performance that revels in her character’s abrasive personality and coarse dialogue, but it’s one that never forgets about the grit and determination that Margaret exemplifies when trying to catch her daughter’s murderer.  Actually, some of McDormand’s best scenes are the ones that are more contemplative, particularly in a touching sequence where her character plants flowers underneath the billboards.

Although Woody Harrelson’s character can have a tough persona, he manages to make his character more than just a gruff sheriff.  Harrelson’s not only witty, but he also brings emotional depth to his work when it’s time for his character to face challenging decisions.  Willoughby has a much more dramatic arc than is expected, portraying a law enforcer who must help a mother seek justice, as well as a father and husband who must focus on his own issues that hit much closer to home.

Sam Rockwell provides one of his best performances as a prejudicial police officer, but just like Harrelson’s work in the film, you get a couple of more layers than you anticipate.  He may seem like a dimwitted individual, but Rockwell portrays his character in such a way where you see that’s he’s trying to be more of big shot in order to impress his fellow officers and higher-ups, pretty much to the point where you feel sorry for him.  All of this helps to make his journey in the second half of the film all the more compelling.  I would reveal more about his character, but it would spoil the places in which Rockwell’s role brings him.

McDonagh’s screenplay does well in exploring the theme of the supposed quiet nature of small-town America and the dangers that may lurk underneath.  Having the story take place in Ebbing is a clever move because the name itself explains exactly what the town is doing, experiencing a fading of the notion that this is a typical rural town where one can’t imagine anything bad happening.   To help expand upon the sense of something withering away, McDonagh uses a recurring motif of fire, utilizing it to show the waning facade of the small-town quaintness and exposing the town for what it may truly be.  On the wittier side of this rural illusion, McDonagh has Margaret working in a store called “Southern Charms,” a trait that’s hilariously missing from her character.

What McDonagh also does with his narrative is subvert expectations as to how the film will play out.  He doesn’t make this a typical police procedural or whodunit, but instead uses the story as a way to examine Margaret’s more-extreme actions.  You sympathize with her because of her loss, but you may also question the steps she takes to find the justice for which she’s looking.

While mixing sometimes-startling violence with dark humor, McDonagh continues to exhibit his ability to find comedy in the unlikeliest of places.  Despite making us laugh from time to time during the film, he remains in-tune with Margaret’s plight and the pain she’s feeling.  And in regard to the crumbing of the town’s false appearances to show what’s beneath, McDonagh strengthens that notion with the use of McDormand’s comical and dramatic sensibilities, with the former appearing the most, only to vanish at times to show the depths of what’s going through Margaret’s mind.  In the end, McDonagh gives us more than the narrative’s initial mystery, and the movie is so much better because of it.

Final grade: A

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