Outside: Looking In

Although the Oscar nominations haven't yet been announced (and won't be for some time yet), the race is essentially already on. A number of critics organizations have begun handing out their prizes, the Golden Globes nominations are coming next week, and movie fans are eagerly reading the tea leaves. A few movies are already rising to the top, and some of those are making their way to theaters.

One of those is Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. It's a new effort from writer-director Martin McDonagh, the maker of Seven Psychopaths (which I haven't seen) and In Bruges (which I have; meh). Like Seven Psychopaths, this new film is a large ensemble piece; like In Bruges, it's dramatically taking on some very dark subject matter while leavening the proceedings with a streak of wry comedy.

It's been many months since Mildred Hayes' daughter Angela was brutally raped and murdered, and she thinks the local police haven't been doing enough to find justice. To bring attention to the case, she buys ads on three local billboards, highlighting the brutality of the crime and calling out the police chief by name. She gets more than she bargained for, with not everyone in the town supporting her provocative stance -- particularly since the police chief is dealing with a rapidly advancing form of cancer.

Last year, there was another movie in the Oscar hunt (though in a distant third place) that told the story of a mourning parent unable to cope with the loss of a child. Manchester by the Sea was relentlessly bleak and doggedly one note. In some ways, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri tells the same story without being so rigid. Mildred is trapped in grief and can't find a way out, and you get to really learn why when added context around the loss of her daughter is revealed in the middle of the movie. But this film isn't afraid of having fun along the way.

Neither is the cast. Mildred's grief has only served to sharpen her irreverent, biting wit, and the performance by Frances McDormand never gets locked into one emotional place. She's not dark all the time, though you never lose sight of the fact that her character's humor is usually gallows humor. She's not constantly at loggerheads with the police chief. He really is a sympathetic man, and he really does respect her plight. Woody Harrelson plays the role with humor and dignity of his own, and provides a great look at someone who holds their head high as they face down cancer.

There are plenty of other characters in the mix to bring variety to the story. A rage-driven man-child working in the police force is a vehicle for examining police brutality and racism -- and often in funny ways, believe it or not. The character has enough of a story that you might consider him a co-protagonist in how it unfolds, and he's played wonderfully by Sam Rockwell. Lucas Hedges plays Mildred's surviving son (and he also appeared in Manchester by the Sea, which is perhaps how I made that thematic connection). He's processing grief in his own way, with a jagged brand of teenage angst. John Hawkes plays Mildred's abusive ex-husband, Peter Dinklage plays a sad sack local, and many other recognizable faces pop up in tiny one-scene roles.

One other thing that really elevates this film in my mind above the relentless sorrow of Manchester by the Sea is that there is another message here besides "grief consumes." Layered in the background throughout, and then made explicit in the final act, is the notion that hate only engenders more of the same. It all resolves in a wonderfully ambiguous ending where you have to decide for yourself -- have characters really turned the corner on their lives and changed, or will they fall back into the same patterns they had a chance to snap out of?

I have many Oscar contenders left to see. (And we can't even really say for sure what those even are yet.) But if this season overall stands anywhere near the quality of this movie, I have a good run of movies ahead. I give Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri an A-.