Its satisfying when you open a Royal Dansk tin box expecting an oddly assembled sewing kit but find it filled with buttery cookies. Pick a film these days, any one of those critically acclaimed features which aspire to obtain a little golden knight holding a crusader’s sword and you can expect either one of the two – sewing kit or cookies.
Three Billboards is a fine chocolate chip.
Immerse yourself in Three Billboards and discover that some Oscar-contenders are fun. The narrative takes you through every character’s ups and downs, their highs and lows. Frances McDormand plays a grief-stricken but hostile mother to perfection. Woody’s character – an aging police chief suffering from cancer has moments of levity seamlessly mutating into shock. Rockwell gives a committed performance playing a rash and, supposedly, racist officer with flecks of humanity in him. Even the smaller players such as John Hawkes, Peter Dinklage and Caleb Landry Jones leave a lasting impression. Except for Weaving’s self-deprecating dialog sticking out like a sore thumb, everything’s just fine and dandy.
What writer-director Martin McDonagh has accomplished is undercut the serious atmosphere of this motion picture with varying levels of comedic insanity. It blends in and complements the screenplay perfectly, buoyed by the diverse cast’s performances. The results are outrageous at parts, but this briskly paced film reaches its conclusion magnificently, although viewers might be miffed at it being anti-climatic.
Three Billboard remains a rare gem of the black comedy genre which, while tackling mature themes about love, loss and anger, rises above the conventional drama with the help of a deftly written script, assured direction and devoted performances.
Rating : 4/5