I’m a little late to the party, but I recently saw Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri as part of my Academy Awards movie preparations. I usually like to see at least a few of the major movies of the year for awards season, but this movie definitely struck a chord with me. While there is a legitimate debate surrounding race and its portrayal in the film, I find it limiting to discuss a movie only in terms of how perfectly it handled every issue with which it dealt. Some critics argue that Three Billboards falls quite short in demonstrating Officer Dixon’s (Sam Rockwell) character growth and portraying him in a redemptive light at the end of the film. Dixon fails to reveal any true regret for his actions against black people. His only moment of anything resembling redemption comes when he attempts to identify Angela Hayes’s (Kathryn Newton) rapist after overhearing an incriminating conversation at a local bar. My issue with this critique in general is that the film really doesn’t insist on redemption for anyone. I don’t think the film even hints at redemption as the path for any character, as they are all flawed in a multitude of ways.
Additionally, why does this film have the responsibility of neatly wrapping up each social justice issue at hand? Isn’t systemic racism a tremendously complex issue in itself? It’s simple to say that people are morally right or wrong, racist or not racist. But I think this film sheds some light on the complications that arise from avoiding the grey areas of these issues. Obviously Dixon is a racist. While I agree that his character does not achieve redemption at the end of the film, I don’t think he was ever really trying to achieve it. His attempt to find Angela’s killer could easily be seen as his own mission simply to achieve professional rather than personal success. And Dixon receives his karmic justice, don’t forget. He’s rightfully fired for his abuses of power and then gets Molotov cocktailed to the face. Again, I don’t think the film tries to make it seem like this is some form of penance and that Dixon magically morphs into a martyr. My issue with the whole racism backlash is that I never thought the film was trying to promote the image of Dixon as some sort of hero in a redemption arc. And while the issue of race is clearly significant in the film, there are also other social issues in play (sexism, homophobia, domestic abuse, the justice system). It’s pretty easy to critique films for their lack of depth regarding certain issues that they address, but we can’t expect a film to be perfect just because they are fiction. If these issues are so controversial in real life, why should movies pretend they are black and white?
Saturday Night Live’s January 27th episode featured a sketch entitled “Dinner Discussion” that articulates this complexity better than I can. The scene is situated around a set of three couples at a dinner table, who are attempting to find a conversational topic when one of the characters mentions the Aziz Ansari article in the New York Times. Everyone at the table dramatically rejects the topic, insisting that there’s no good way to talk about this story without metaphorically stepping in it. Each time someone attempts to discuss the story, another person at the table cautiously warns the speaker, “Caaareful…” as if to indicate that the speaker is getting into potentially offensive territory. The humor of the skit is that no one can seem to get more than two words in without someone frantically interjecting as a way to stop the conversation altogether. While this skit doesn’t relate exactly to the film debate, I think it reflects this all-or-nothing attitude we seem to have adopted when analyzing situations that are potentially controversial. People are so ready to be outraged, so quick to dismiss a conversation or a movie or any media text of sorts that might cause some discomfort or force us to look at things a bit differently.
Some might mistake this attempt at analyzing a different side of the controversy as some sort of dismissal of racism, which is very much not the case. I only take issue with the criticism that somehow this film needs to be morally “right” in every way. Mildred Hayes’s (Frances McDormand) abusive ex-husband, Charlie (John Hawkes), never redeems himself, yet this backlash isn’t about domestic abusers. The film actually portrays Mildred’s relationship with her ex-husband as more civil and amicable at the conclusion than it was in the beginning, despite Charlie’s lack of character growth or “redemption.” Would the audience feel better if Mildred had smashed that wine bottle over his head like we thought she was going to? I’m not sure. But no one seems to be upset about the violent wifebeater, which I found particularly odd, considering this film was very much about getting justice for women who have been mistreated (often by men). Yet, I didn’t scrutinize the film’s lack of attention on Charlie’s character flaws and dismiss the film’s greater message.
Ultimately, this movie was about a badass woman out for justice. And I think it’s an issue in itself to ignore that fact and instead analyze the film’s shortcomings regarding race relations. Let’s not forget that the premise of Three Billboards is the lack of investigative attention on unsolved rape cases, which drives a grieving mother to seek her own justice. I’m not arguing that this particular inequality is somehow more important than racial inequality, and unfortunately the two issues are often very intertwined. I think this film spoke to me as a young woman during a time that is both empowering and also frightening for women everywhere, regardless of race, religion, nationality, etc. Mildred sets fire (literally) to the institutions that wish to silence her and disregard her story. I acknowledge the film’s shortcomings in attempting to capture the realistic complexities of everyday racism in America, however I appreciate the film’s refusal to grant its characters a simple path to moral redemption (Especially since the film ends with an active plot to murder someone). Three Billboards echoes the idea that everybody is inherently different and dealing with their own demons, and I think that viewers should celebrate the film’s complex and troubled characters for denying us an easy moral judgment.