Three Billboards

 

Last night we finally got round to watching Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. As this film came out in 2017, I shall assume that I can talk about it without worrying about spoilers. It is challenging viewing, with language that some will find offensive, and dealing with issues such as rape, murder, and suicide, as well as systemic issues such as racism and poverty of economic prospects; but it is excellent, and well-deserving of the recognition it received. What makes Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri so good is how it tells its story.

There are no black-and-white heroes or villains here. Instead, there are characters we are led to sympathise with and root for (and in storytelling we are led to side with whoever we are introduced to first) who do things we surely cannot condone, and characters we are led to be unsympathetic towards who do things we cannot help but admire. And everybody hurts, everybody bleeds from an open wound. These tensions, and these assaults, are reflected in how different characters relate to one another, at different moments, and in how they behold themselves. How we view others, are viewed, and view ourselves.

It is also clear in this storytelling that our knowledge is partial and limited. Our foreknowledge is limited. Our best hope for growth, for moving forward, is hindsight (this is brilliantly set up from the very start); but our hindsight is also limited. At the end of the film, two characters set off to fulfil an act of vigilante justice. And we are left wanting to know what happens next. Enough has taken place to give us hope that they will not go through with it. Enough has taken place to carry the storyline onwards through further tragedy. Parallel universes diverge, and which road we take says something about which destination matters to us and which route we believe is most advantageous. At this point both roads leave Ebbing, Missouri, for wherever we happen to be. In my case, Sunderland.

What is absolutely clear and consistent throughout is that our actions (including turning a blind eye, which may be the best of possible actions in some circumstances) have consequences. Our actions (including our inactions) have consequences. It is not always clear what we ought to do, but what we do always has consequences—which we can hardly foresee and cannot control, once the word leaves our lips, once the projectile leaves our hand. Yet, it is these very consequences that carry us on down the road, with stumbling feet, in hope of being caught and held by grace.

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri is a challenging and necessary story for our times, as much in need of mercy as of justice. For without mercy, justice is gutted to revenge; and, though justice be delayed, without it, mercy is abandoned to the bare bones of pity. Three billboards is a more than generous gift, if we will receive it. A rear-view mirror, unlikely travel companion, and an open road.