So often, we see movies flirt with greatness only to falter at key moments, retreating into the safety of familiarity. So often, you can almost imagine directors – or more likely, studios – frantic at the thought of losing the audience for even a minute because of a, let’s say, difficult scene. The gigantic leap of faith that Three Billboards demands of its audience – bigger, I’d say, than what is required of you to accept the central romance in The Shape of Water – is almost unheard of these days.
And you’d be hard pressed to find another movie this year – or any other year – that challenges the norm more aggressively. We have a selection of fine smaller films exchanging hesitant looks, and wondering, “Is this it?” And each of them – be it Three Billboards, or Call Me By Your Name, or The Shape of Water, or Lady Bird, or Phantom Thread – is defined by one virtue: Empathy, something the world desperately needs more of, now more than ever.įilms these days don’t seem to spend enough time developing characters it’s all about arriving at the next big moment and hitting mandated beats. Unlike most years, when the Oscars race usually boils down to one mainstream film against an indie, 2018 is different. Three Billboards – we’re going to have to abbreviate henceforth, for obvious reasons – is a real movie, filled with real, complex characters that go on personal and collective journeys. Woody Harrelson and Frances McDormand in a still from Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri.
Sure, on the surface, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri might remind you of something by Coen Brothers – star Frances McDormand, who, with Mildred Hayes, has given Marge Gunderson a companion for life, isn’t the only connective tissue – but despite these strictly superficial similarities it is as much a product of a singular voice – that of writer-director Martin McDonagh – than, say, No Country for Old Men is a Coen Brothers movie.