The best thing about seeing movies this time of year is the prevalence of high caliber films. Three Billboards is one such film. It isn’t flawless. But it is a fine film falling easily at the top of the list for the year.
If you’ve seen the preview, you aren’t surprised when I say revenge appears as a theme in this movie. What surprised me was the overwhelming tone too of redemption. Having these competing forces only highlights my favorite quality of this movie: its complexity.
Of course, Frances McDormand delivers a solid and wrenching performance. Elements of the story tug at your heart. But it’s the layers of development of everyone else in the cast that raise this film to belong on its pedestal.
I’ve learned from a friend an element I see in films (that I hadn’t known before those conversations were things I was seeing): do you care about the characters? Do you like them? The beauty in Three Billboards is the difficulty in answering these questions. Sure, you initially empathize with McDormand’s Mildred. At first. She has suffered immense pain. You care about her. But then she shows raw anger and confusion and over-the-top reactionary behavior, results be damned. Then this kindness sneaks out of her at the oddest time. And you look again. She makes you waffle on how you feel, even if underneath all of it, you want to care about her.
The supporting cast does this even better. With these others, you want to dislike them. Then you see other sides of these complex beings. You learn more about who they are. You witness compassion. And you care. And, in spite of initial impressions, you find parts of them to like. Among this, you watch these complex beings interact with and respond to each other. As they do, the film settles into you, and you appreciate, even if you’re more and more frustrated by, the baffling degrees of absurdity human beings can display.
This mirrors a lot of real life, yes? How many people do we know who have sides to their beings that are less than ideal? How many of us know someone who bothers us deeply before we see a gentle, caring side of that person that crumbles our stone wall we’ve built between us and them?
My movie companion commented after the film, “That was dark.” Yes, it was. But it was rich and layered and complicated and, come on, how often do you see a turtle, well, I’ll let you see that part on your own.