An epic in the guise of a dark comedy

Rating: 10/10 (14 January 2018)

Epic films come in two flavours: one, the obvious, where the narrative tries to capture a breadth of events, where Greek heroes and hamartia abound, where the rise and fall of some epic entity is captured; the second, where the narrative itself is focused on a microcosm, but the content pushes conceptual abstractness, dealing with questions and issues of epic proportions. Three Billboards belongs firmly in the second category; epic in scope, this film presses every major aesthetic button, leading you on to catharses - yes, in the plural - of different kinds.
While the film captures the admittedly unusual events in the small town of Ebbing, Missouri, after a citizen decides to put up billboards criticizing the lack of action from their chief of police, the questions explored by the film are deeply philosophical. One can watch it just for the small-town narrative, and be amusingly piqued (or, like many other reviewers here, annoyed and offended), or one can hang on as the film takes you on a roller-coaster exploring notions of morality, duty, love, and justice that you had taken for granted. If you let the film penetrate you, you can expect to laugh, cry, think, and be deeply moved; and you might leave the hall as I did, disturbed, sad, angry, and yet, relieved, puzzled perhaps, and truly purged of emotions for a while.
If not for anything else, watch it for one heck of a female lead, one of the best I've seen on English screens, in a stellar performance by Frances McDormand.