Few films manage to find a balance between extremely difficult subject manner and dark, twisted humor on the side. Director Martin McDonagh has, somehow, largely been able to have that lightning strike twice. In Bruges also found a way to be both darkly entertaining while being challenging to watch.
Starting months after a horrific rape and murder, the film follows Mildred, the victim's mother, as she is still devastated and dealing with the loss. Seeing several broken down billboards outside the town, she opts to rent them out to make a statement. Essentially, she asks the police chief why there have been no arrests, or really, why there has been no progress in the case at all. The billboards set off a conflict within the town, pitting the good ol' boys of Ebbing against a heartbroken mother and, subsequently, a number of other people who have too often themselves found reason to hate the police department.
In some ways, the bulk of the film is a bit like Jaws, where there's a bigger story at play but the focus is on town politics. Half of the film is zeroed in on the town folks' disdain for her efforts. Police Chief Willoughby is beloved in the town and considered an upright citizen, worthy of the mantle as head of police. He oversees an otherwise incompetent force, however, full of racist, homophobic, sexist, and often violent officers that are constantly enabled by virtue of being part of "the club." More, he seems unreasonably fine with these colleagues, even though he appears to recognize the trouble they bring. Sure, he is hesitant to defend Officer Dixon - a man with a reputation for torturing and harassing people of color - but he still defends him anyway.
This highlights the best aspect of the film: a believable complexity of its characters. Though Willoughby is the target of Mildred's billboards, one doesn't get the impression that he himself never cared about the case or trying to find the killer. However, as he mentions, some cases just don't leave enough evidence to really solve. Many murders don't get solved for that very reason. This happened to be one of them. Even more, though Mildred doesn't care to hear his excuses, she still has empathy for him. While Mildred is being held at the station, Willoughby coughs up blood while interrogating her. He goes from tough guy to frightened while she goes from annoyed and cold to concerned and compassionate in a moment. The story is personal, and not personal all at once.
Perhaps the biggest talking point to emerge from Three Billboards is the arc for Dixon, one of the most disgusting characters in ages. This is an officer who frequently abuses his power and represents only the worst of the department. He harasses Hispanic workers, calling them "fucking beaners." He apparently is known for beating a black man pretty badly. We even see him beat a local advertiser responsible for the billboards brutally, including tossing him out of the window. Eventually, he decides to try and straight his act and finds a way to potentially track a suspect in the rape/murder case center to the story. By no means is this a character worthy of redemption, and the take that the film tries to give him one, to make him suddenly likeable or acceptable is problematic is perfectly valid.
However, I would argue that - while it has all appearances of a redemption arc - it isn't really one. The film structures his character thread to look like he is getting one, and certainly his motivation shifts and becomes more acceptable in some ways; I'm not so sure his is really a true redemption story. (And here is where it's impossible to talk about it without mentioning specifics, so spoiler warning going forward.)
See, after being fired from the police force (because Lester Freamon took over as chief of police and is very much focused on tightening the ship), Dixon receives a letter of support from Willoughby. In it, the former chief offers the advice of calming down in order to become a true detective. One night, Dixon is at the bar and hears someone bragging about what sounds awfully much like the crime committed on Mildred's daughter. He picks a fight specifically to try and get the guy's DNA, hoping that if he submits it, they will find a match and solve the crime. Thus, redemption!
Except that the DNA doesn't match any on file, for any crime across the country either. This guy is clearly made to seem like a horrible person, and we are meant to suspect he did something horrible, but there's the undeniable reality that none of us really know. Dixon is convinced that this person must have done something horrible to someone. He goes on to tell Mildred about that, and the film ends with the two of them driving off to Idaho to track this guy down so they can murder him in the name of vengeance.
This is where I think Dixon's arc isn't truly one of redemption. Mildred's mindset is completely understandable. She is clearly dealing with grief, regret, and loss, and we can totally sympathize with her. Additionally, she gets treated pretty awfully by the town. Many are not happy that her billboards call Chief Willoughby's integrity into question, and those even go on to blame her for his suicide. Despite all that, she engages in some pretty unacceptable ways. She commits assault on her dentist, a bunch of teenagers, and even commits a literal act of terrorism against the police department, lighting it up with molotov cocktails. Her pain is understandable, but she is lashing out in some problematic ways.
And yet, it is because of Dixon's efforts to do Willoughby proud that she speeds off to commit murder on someone that, for one, we don't actually know committed a heinous crime, or any crime. For another, she's so distressed at the lack of justice for her daughter that she is willing to murder someone else for potentially a different crime to fill that hole. In essence, Dixon's "redemption" arc ends up pushing Mildred down an even darker path than the one she was on. It is because of Dixon's "redemption" arc that Mildred speeds down the path of herself becoming irredeemable. I would argue that while Dixon does indeed seem to himself regret some of his actions, he's still the same problematically violent person he was before. What, really, is the difference between him tossing Red out the window in a fit of emotional rage, and loading a shotgun in the back of a station wagon to run off to murder someone who might have committed a crime.
In essence, it seems to me that Dixon's "redemption arc" ends in a place where both he and Mildred can't come back from. And yes, it's presented ambiguously as though they are reconsidering it. Still, it's hard to get around the fact that is Dixon's actions that push Mildred to this point. She did a number of horrible things herself (including nearly killing Dixon with the molotovs). Dixon doesn't help her find peace, or bring justice. And he still acts according to a more violent mindset, one in which he still clearly views himself above the law.
The alternative take - that he got a redemption arc while being unworthy of one - is certainly valid and understandable. But to me, it wasn't a real redemption arc. He does see change as a character, but the main problems (feeling above the law, a penchant for violence) are still there at the end. It's a big part of why I love the film: I can understand most of the characters, and they are either complex in their own motivation, or develop in complex ways. I didn't grow to like Dixon at all by the end. I actually felt like he stayed awful, but changed the way he was.
Other people might disagree. It's really easy to see that other interpretation of the film, and how that would ruin it for many. The ambiguity and complexity of each character and plot thread is a big part of why I really liked the film. Mix in excellent acting from Frances McDormand and Sam Rockwell, it's easy to see why it's in Oscar contention. It's, at times, really heavy and hard to watch, but it's surprisingly well done given the subject matter.
REDUCTIVE RATING: It's Good!
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