Around this time last year when we were deep in the throes of The La La Land Discourse, it seemed like we would never get anything more exhausting. And yet, here we are in the midst of another bit of awards season backlash, this time with Martin McDonagh's Three Billboards Outside of Ebbing, Missouri. It's a film that I loved when it came out (enough to put it at number six on my Best of 2017 list a few weeks ago), and I've listened to the complaints about it with open ears and still find myself disagreeing with most of them.
Despite all of that, it's a movie for which I'm hesitant to come to a vocal defense, for a number of reasons. 1. The attacks against it feel so passionate and personal -- I've seen many reviews saying variations of "I don't trust you if you loved this movie" and "You're a bad person if you put this on your top 10 list" -- that I didn't want to wade into that sea of vitriol. 2. I don't want to invalidate the genuine hurt and pain people feel about this movie, because I understand and sympathize with that feeling. 3. This isn't exactly a movie that needs a defense. After all, it's winning awards and many critics still love it. But enough people I follow on Twitter and Letterboxd (and by enough, I mean 90%) hate it that I feel the need to at least put my thoughts out there, so people can get a measured response from the perspective of someone who has heard the complaints and has some things to say about them.
A few weeks ago on the podcast Get Up On This, there was a heated debate about Three Billboards, and I really liked what co-host Matt Robinson had to say about it, because I felt like somebody else finally came away with the same perspective that I did and was able to articulate it very well. Essentially, he explained that the movie was such an exquisite representation of what it feels like to be in America in 2017. The anger, the confusion, the cruel treatment of marginalized groups -- all of it. McDonagh is a British man, but he uses his outsider status to take a look at the state of our nation from his distance and say "Look at this terrifying, grotesque comedy," and then proceed to give us a movie that matches that thesis.
To do so, McDonagh works in a mode where he uses heightened dialogue and broad characters in order to force the audience to think more about how they stand in stark contrast with the actual issues he's trying to examine. Part of the criticism of Three Billboards seems to be rooted in the fact that many people are taking the film at face value. The movie is racist because the racist characters don't get a comeuppance, the movie is sexist because its female characters are portrayed in a sexist light, the movie has bad dialogue because nobody talks like that. But that's not the way a stylized work is supposed to function and be assessed. If you take a Douglas Sirk film at face value, you'll likely come away from it thinking that it's bad too. McDonagh may be working with something that has a more realistic veneer, but in the end he's still attempting to do the same thing. If you acknowledge that and still think it sucks, then fine, that's just a matter of taste. But I've seen so many bad faith takes on the movie that it feels like people watched an entirely different film. This is the guy who gave us In Bruges! Hasn't he earned the right to be given the benefit of the doubt that he didn't make something as dumb and racist as people are saying it is?
I've tried to read as many negative reviews as possible and compile the gripes that popped up most frequently, so I could offer my thoughts on them. I won't be addressing any complaints that are primarily taste-based, because it's hard to offer a rebuttal to "the plot is bad" with anything other than "I didn't think so." This post isn't meant to change anybody's mind, as I don't imagine it will. But there are so many people out there who are asking themselves "How could anybody like this film"? This post is meant to offer an explanation, from one person who happened to like Three Billboards.
Criticism #1: The movie expects us to root for a racist cop's redemption arc
This is the big one that I just do not get at all, simply because I don't think that arc is something we're supposed to root for. If you've read my Letterboxd review on this, you've heard my thoughts already, but I'll repeat them. Here we have this movie about people lashing out at wrongs, feeling like the "proper" form of retribution hasn't happened, that certain people have been let off the hook too easily. And then the film itself attempts to let Dixon off the hook in a way that feels too "easy." I think McDonagh deliberately wants to make us uncomfortable with that, not be on the side of the narrative. He's placing us right in the headspace of the characters in this story, questioning whether there can ever be forgiveness for certain acts.
We live in a culture of cancellation: when somebody does something wrong, we want them to disappear forever. But the uncomfortable fact of the matter that Three Billboards explores is that these people don't just go away. Others may not see value in watching a dumb, evil person fumble around trying to get on the path of good, but I think it's compelling to watch. And the (again, deliberate) irony is that Dixon probably fails! The film ends on an ambiguous note, where he and Mildred possibly go to kill a man who has nothing to do with the crime at the center of the story. He is not being endorsed. This is not a redemption arc.
(Also, full disclosure: I am a black man. So it feels a little weird to have white people on Twitter tell me what I should find racist.)
Criticism #2: The women and minority characters are poorly written and portrayed
This one I can actually understand. I think the women especially aren't given much life or complexity, and it feels like laziness on the film's part to make all of the supporting women paper-thin just because it has a magnetic Frances McDormand at the center. But I'm also open to the possibility that this is another deliberate instance of commentary on the movie's part. Who are the only sensible, kind people in this film? A little person and three black people. Even though Mildred's ex husband has a new 19 year old girlfriend who is portrayed as a naive airhead, she also gets a moment of tiny kindness and wisdom in the restaurant scene near the end of the film. And yet these are all the people who get shunted off to the side in the narrative. Don't those feel like reflections of how America itself treats these people? I don't think the movie has contempt for these characters, even though the main characters do.
Criticism #3: The plot has multiple elements that don't add up or make sense
To me, this is something else makes it feel like the nasty, confusing mess that is our country right now. Nothing makes sense anymore! Plus, I tend to like when narratives allow for weird diversions and vestigial limbs. Movies are not math problems. Not everything has to "add up."
Criticism #4: There's a flashback where Mildred wishes her daughter gets raped, right before her daughter actually gets raped and murdered
Again, this is a heightened and stylized work. If you take it at face value, it's bad dialogue. But the purpose is not to be poetic or an elegant bit of dramatic irony. It's meant to be an extreme moment from the gallows in order to reinforce the feeling of guilt that Mildred has, not the actual realism of the matter.
Criticism #5: The film has multiple little person jokes
To use modern internet parlance, I think the phrase "retweets are not endorsements" applies here. I really don't think we're supposed to laugh at those jokes. Nothing about the tone or the rhythm of the scene indicates that this is the moment where we laugh. In fact, it seems to take sympathy with Dinklage's character at all times.
Those are the five big ones I found when perusing reviews. I apologize if I missed anything or if you feel like your criticisms weren't represented. I could be wrong with my take and become known 10 years from now as the fool who liked the new Crash. Despite my feelings about this film, I really hope it doesn't win Best Picture at the Oscars, because that will just stoke the flames even more and the discourse will never end. Also because Lady Bird is a better film.
Despite all of that, it's a movie for which I'm hesitant to come to a vocal defense, for a number of reasons. 1. The attacks against it feel so passionate and personal -- I've seen many reviews saying variations of "I don't trust you if you loved this movie" and "You're a bad person if you put this on your top 10 list" -- that I didn't want to wade into that sea of vitriol. 2. I don't want to invalidate the genuine hurt and pain people feel about this movie, because I understand and sympathize with that feeling. 3. This isn't exactly a movie that needs a defense. After all, it's winning awards and many critics still love it. But enough people I follow on Twitter and Letterboxd (and by enough, I mean 90%) hate it that I feel the need to at least put my thoughts out there, so people can get a measured response from the perspective of someone who has heard the complaints and has some things to say about them.
A few weeks ago on the podcast Get Up On This, there was a heated debate about Three Billboards, and I really liked what co-host Matt Robinson had to say about it, because I felt like somebody else finally came away with the same perspective that I did and was able to articulate it very well. Essentially, he explained that the movie was such an exquisite representation of what it feels like to be in America in 2017. The anger, the confusion, the cruel treatment of marginalized groups -- all of it. McDonagh is a British man, but he uses his outsider status to take a look at the state of our nation from his distance and say "Look at this terrifying, grotesque comedy," and then proceed to give us a movie that matches that thesis.
To do so, McDonagh works in a mode where he uses heightened dialogue and broad characters in order to force the audience to think more about how they stand in stark contrast with the actual issues he's trying to examine. Part of the criticism of Three Billboards seems to be rooted in the fact that many people are taking the film at face value. The movie is racist because the racist characters don't get a comeuppance, the movie is sexist because its female characters are portrayed in a sexist light, the movie has bad dialogue because nobody talks like that. But that's not the way a stylized work is supposed to function and be assessed. If you take a Douglas Sirk film at face value, you'll likely come away from it thinking that it's bad too. McDonagh may be working with something that has a more realistic veneer, but in the end he's still attempting to do the same thing. If you acknowledge that and still think it sucks, then fine, that's just a matter of taste. But I've seen so many bad faith takes on the movie that it feels like people watched an entirely different film. This is the guy who gave us In Bruges! Hasn't he earned the right to be given the benefit of the doubt that he didn't make something as dumb and racist as people are saying it is?
I've tried to read as many negative reviews as possible and compile the gripes that popped up most frequently, so I could offer my thoughts on them. I won't be addressing any complaints that are primarily taste-based, because it's hard to offer a rebuttal to "the plot is bad" with anything other than "I didn't think so." This post isn't meant to change anybody's mind, as I don't imagine it will. But there are so many people out there who are asking themselves "How could anybody like this film"? This post is meant to offer an explanation, from one person who happened to like Three Billboards.
Criticism #1: The movie expects us to root for a racist cop's redemption arc
This is the big one that I just do not get at all, simply because I don't think that arc is something we're supposed to root for. If you've read my Letterboxd review on this, you've heard my thoughts already, but I'll repeat them. Here we have this movie about people lashing out at wrongs, feeling like the "proper" form of retribution hasn't happened, that certain people have been let off the hook too easily. And then the film itself attempts to let Dixon off the hook in a way that feels too "easy." I think McDonagh deliberately wants to make us uncomfortable with that, not be on the side of the narrative. He's placing us right in the headspace of the characters in this story, questioning whether there can ever be forgiveness for certain acts.
We live in a culture of cancellation: when somebody does something wrong, we want them to disappear forever. But the uncomfortable fact of the matter that Three Billboards explores is that these people don't just go away. Others may not see value in watching a dumb, evil person fumble around trying to get on the path of good, but I think it's compelling to watch. And the (again, deliberate) irony is that Dixon probably fails! The film ends on an ambiguous note, where he and Mildred possibly go to kill a man who has nothing to do with the crime at the center of the story. He is not being endorsed. This is not a redemption arc.
(Also, full disclosure: I am a black man. So it feels a little weird to have white people on Twitter tell me what I should find racist.)
Criticism #2: The women and minority characters are poorly written and portrayed
This one I can actually understand. I think the women especially aren't given much life or complexity, and it feels like laziness on the film's part to make all of the supporting women paper-thin just because it has a magnetic Frances McDormand at the center. But I'm also open to the possibility that this is another deliberate instance of commentary on the movie's part. Who are the only sensible, kind people in this film? A little person and three black people. Even though Mildred's ex husband has a new 19 year old girlfriend who is portrayed as a naive airhead, she also gets a moment of tiny kindness and wisdom in the restaurant scene near the end of the film. And yet these are all the people who get shunted off to the side in the narrative. Don't those feel like reflections of how America itself treats these people? I don't think the movie has contempt for these characters, even though the main characters do.
Criticism #3: The plot has multiple elements that don't add up or make sense
To me, this is something else makes it feel like the nasty, confusing mess that is our country right now. Nothing makes sense anymore! Plus, I tend to like when narratives allow for weird diversions and vestigial limbs. Movies are not math problems. Not everything has to "add up."
Criticism #4: There's a flashback where Mildred wishes her daughter gets raped, right before her daughter actually gets raped and murdered
Again, this is a heightened and stylized work. If you take it at face value, it's bad dialogue. But the purpose is not to be poetic or an elegant bit of dramatic irony. It's meant to be an extreme moment from the gallows in order to reinforce the feeling of guilt that Mildred has, not the actual realism of the matter.
Criticism #5: The film has multiple little person jokes
To use modern internet parlance, I think the phrase "retweets are not endorsements" applies here. I really don't think we're supposed to laugh at those jokes. Nothing about the tone or the rhythm of the scene indicates that this is the moment where we laugh. In fact, it seems to take sympathy with Dinklage's character at all times.
Those are the five big ones I found when perusing reviews. I apologize if I missed anything or if you feel like your criticisms weren't represented. I could be wrong with my take and become known 10 years from now as the fool who liked the new Crash. Despite my feelings about this film, I really hope it doesn't win Best Picture at the Oscars, because that will just stoke the flames even more and the discourse will never end. Also because Lady Bird is a better film.
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