Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri
Sam Rockwell was good.
But damn, Frances McDormand
Deserves all the gold.
When “Three Billboards” was first released in Columbia, MO. in December, one of my close friends told me that it looked like one of those movies you don’t have to see because you already know everything from the trailer. Another one of my friends iMessaged me that same trailer all the way back in May. Guess which friend accompanied me to Ragtag to see it.
My friend couldn't have been more wrong (sorry, Josh). I was blown away by how much I loved “Three Billboards.” The acting was superb (though Lucas Hedges was slightly underused), and the “In Bruges” director perfectly toed the line between dark humor and drama without falling into despair. What I loved so much about last year’s “Manchester By The Sea” was how Kenneth Lonergan found a way to make such a melancholic story so gut-bustingly hilarious (yes, I just invented the word “gut-bustingly” to describe a movie about death), and I found the same to be true about “Three Billboards.”