Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri looks deep inside anger and grief
Anger is a difficult emotion. It can be cathartic, to be sure. There’s nothing quite as satisfying as explosive reaction—afterwards, there’s usually a rush of endorphins that lights up pleasure centers in the brain. Pent up frustration and stress are certainly damaging to health in the long term, so constructively discharging that type of negativity is necessary.
But like all things, indulging too much can cause lasting damage. Despite our insistence that we live in a Christian nation, very few families teach their children to turn the other cheek. Instead, they point to Christ’s righteous anger, equating a simple disagreement with changing money in the temple. They resort to flipping tables and driving out the opposition.
We revere the violent and cheer alongside those who seek vengeance. U.S. foreign policy has been in punishment mode for over a decade. It makes sense that this is reflected in our art.
Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri is a snapshot of that of one woman existing in a perpetual state of anger and grief, anger that is justifiably earned but largely misplaced. It’s affecting and poignant at times, bitterly funny and depressing at others. The film answers no questions and offers no solutions. It simply shows a moment in time and allows the audience to come to their own conclusions.
Mildred Hayes (Frances McDormand) has every reason to be angry. Her teenage daughter was brutally raped, murdered, and burned and the local police have no leads. She’s not sure that anyone cares. In fact, seven months have gone by with very little word from the Ebbing Police Department. She places the blame for the lack of suspects solely at the feet of Sheriff Bill Willoughby (Woody Harrelson). The buck stops somewhere, she figures.
Willoughby is well liked in Ebbing and generally seen as a decent man. He’s also dying of pancreatic cancer. Mildred pays this no mind—anger and desperation often clouds judgment and Mildred feels she has been more than patient. As she passes three decayed billboards on her way home, she comes up with a plan. She purchases the space with the following message: “Raped While Dying”, “And Still No Arrests”, “How Come Chief Willoughby?”
As expected, the message gains significant attention, particularly from officer Jason Dixon (Sam Rockwell), a racist, dumb hillbilly cop with his own anger problems. The police department wants the billboards to come down. Mildred refuses. This impasse represents the central conflict of the story.
Like most good movies, the story serves as a vehicle for character development. This isn’t so much a story about what happens. It’s more about what it reveals. The goal of a film of this nature is to reflect to the audience their own understanding of the world.
Our reactions to Mildred allows us to step into her shoes and think about what choices we might make in her situation. Her anger, her meanness, her refusal to compromise can all be found somewhere inside ourselves, as can the patience of Chief Willoughby.
Some of us even have the stupidity of Officer Dixon under the surface, probably not as far as we’d like.
What the film shows is a picture of a town trying their best to handle a difficult situation and failing in a variety of ways. The characters, like most people we know, never to consider others in their decisions, casting a wide net of misery that entangles even those they care about the most.
The film is violent and profane, moving and affecting, ribald and sad. It is certainly performance driven—McDormand and Rockwell shine throughout the film. The direction, by Martin McDonaugh, appears to be somewhat in the style of the Coen Brothers, although that could simply be due to the location and subject matter. Overall, the film is tightly controlled and expertly filmed.
Like most angry outbursts, the film rages against the unfortunate. There can be no satisfying resolution because bells cannot be unrung. Mildred’s daughter remains dead at the end of the film and the lives affected by the events of the film continue. There is no outcome that can satisfy a family torn asunder by senseless violence.
Some can pick up the pieces and continue. Some dwell forever on the worst day of their lives. Some purchase billboards and lash out at the world hoping to find closure. Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri doesn’t make judgements on these approaches. It simply shows us what they look like.