Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri (**1/2)

Frances McDormand has certainly found her best role, maybe since Fargo, but the movie simply doesn't live up to her standards. Playing a woman who is in mourning following the rape and murder of her daughter, McDormand is a woman trapped in the 'anger' stage of grief. She swears, kicks, curses, screams. The movie itself takes a more obvious approach, and here is where it began to fall apart for me.

Martin McDonagh is a skilled English director mostly known for "In Bruges." Here he shifts the setting to Nowhere, USA and maintains the same copious amounts of blood and violence. It's a standard flick: Mildred Hayes (McDormand) rents out 3 billboards on a deserted country road near her house (the road is all but abandoned after the highway went up) that call out the police chief for his failure to catch her daughter's killer. The daughter met a violent death, and Mildred feels like the local officers would rather pick fights with black people than actually solve crime. The chief, Willoughby (Woody Harrelson) sympathizes with her but admits that the case has gone cold.

Most of the movie is spent on Mildred, her memories of her daughter, her relationship to her ex-husband (John Hawkes), her quiet son (Lucas Hedges), etc. I found myself wondering why these billboards caused such a stir, especially when we know they are on a back road that few (if any) citizens likely drive down. I also wondered why she assumes the police are all racist, when only one (Sam Rockwell) really shows any distain for his work or presents himself as a villainous creature. The officers we see are mostly respectable, small town men who surely know Mildred and would want to help. Willoughby clearly wants to. We spend a lot of time with his story, too. His family, his wife... There's a major plot element regarding him that I won't share here, but the latter half of the film is overflowing with voiceovers of Harrelson reading letters to various people in the town. It's a bore.

McDonagh is no stranger to violence, and there are several moments out of left-field that left my jaw agape. It's one thing for Mildred to be upset at her situation, but by the end of the film I came to see that there were no real moral characters left. I suppose that's the message here: that violence begets violence. The movie is a dark comedy, but that is one aspect of the story that feels brushed over in favor of wilder visuals and funnier quips. Did I like Mildred? Of course. Frances McDormand has scene after scene of fiery intensity that we don't often associate with the Oscar-winner. She makes the film work with what she was given. It's too bad that she's one of the only elements I found enjoyable.

From segmented flashbacks (can you believe the last thing Mildred told her daughter was "I wish you were raped!" - what irony) to predictable dialogue that didn't knock my socks off, THREE BILLBOARDS feels like a movie that sounded good on paper and then was lost in translation on its way to the big screen. I didn't buy the forced sentimentality of this movie, nor did the ambiguous ending leave me feeling anything other than "that was weird." I am happy that the film took risks and had many twists and turns that I would not have expected. From the first scene to the last, I would never have guessed this is how these characters would end up. It still left me desiring a lot more. It either needed a bigger story or a smaller, more stripped down approach. What this film feels like to me is a gray area that appeals to the masses on violence and gratuity alone. If you can honestly tell me that you haven't seen these same characters a million times over in the past (from the racist cop to the snappy mother to the abusive husband to the grieving wife), then I will tell you you need to see more movies.

Lady Bird (*****)

LADY BIRD might not be a perfect movie, but it was perfect for me. I've challenged myself to see more movies this year than any year past, and with a list of upwards of 100 movies in 11 months, I don't know if any movie has moved me or touched my heart like this. It's effortless in a way that seems impossible. It broke my heart and then carefully put it back together again. For first-time director Greta Gerwig to pull it off, that's something special indeed.

The film is about a young girl named Christine (who goes by "Lady Bird", played by the brilliant Saoirse Ronan) who lives in Sacramento but dreams of life on the east coast. She daydreams about liberal arts colleges and complains to her friends about how miserable their city is (Sacramento is like the midwest of California). It's surely the best "teen" movie I've seen since The Edge of Seventeen, which was the best since 2007's Juno. Do we need to classify these stories under such a genre? It's so limiting. Yes, the high school comedy is something we know inside and out - and yet this is a movie that is elevated so much higher. It's a deeply personal story that almost transcends any genre. It's a slice of life.

Much of Lady Bird's senior year is spent exploring her relationship with boys. She participates in the theater production of Merrily We Roll Along (where her awkward friend Julie gets a better part). There she meets Danny (last year's Oscar nominee Lucas Hedges), a bright redhead from an Irish Catholic family. Lady Bird writes his name in the space just under her windowsill. She daydreams about making out with him, and through her assertiveness she makes it happen. We learn early on how fiery this young girl is in a remarkably well-written scene with her mother. You saw it in the trailer, I'm sure. Lady Bird and her mom (Laurie Metcalf, who is flawless) are listening to "The Grapes of Wrath" on tape, crying in the silence and beauty of the words. It's a calm, reflective moment - bookended with the scene's conclusion in which Lady Bird jumps out of a moving car. Look at how they get from point A to point B and tell me Greta Gerwig isn't a talented writer. Later in the film Lady Bird falls for a different boy named Kyle (Timothee Chalamet) who is paranoid about government tracking and is a quiet romantic who reads poetry by himself at loud house parties. It's quite funny.

What makes this film so special is that is a story told by Gerwig who herself has had the opportunity to reflect back on her childhood. We can see her so clearly in Ronan's character (and if you've seen any of Greta Gerwig's performances we can understand the type of person she is). There is a sense of regret, longing, even enlightenment here. Lady Bird so eagerly wants to go to an expensive school, but at the same time her father (Tracy Letts, again brilliant here) has been laid off, and her mom is barely making a living as a nurse. At first we can sympathize with her parents, both hearty people who only want what's best for their children. By the end of the film we see Lady Bird's transformation: that she can understand everything her parents have done for her as well. It's a beautiful evolution that is captured in small moments here and there...

Greta Gerwig herself has said that this film is not as autobiographical as it appears (though she was raised in Sacramento), but what I was struck by is how insightful her story is into growing up in general. I think a lot of us could project ourselves onto Lady Bird. She goes to a Catholic high school, she goofs off with her friend, she yells at her parents, and then when she finally moves away she has a chance to think about all that she really had to begin with. There are two incredibly emotional moments in the film that are all the more effective for how they are set up. One shows Lady Bird being driven to prom and making a calm realization while listening to Dave Matthews Band, and the other is when Lady Bird leaves a message on her parent's answering machine. They're both moments of clarity for Lady Bird, they're quiet, and they hit me so hard that I will be the first to admit I became emotional.

This is a movie that demonstrates so many people at the top of their game. Certainly Greta Gerwig is going to skyrocket as one of the industry's most insightful writer/directors. Saoirse Ronan is destined for her third Oscar nomination. Laurie Metcalf as the mother finds all the right notes and her final scene is a heartbreaking moment of silence in her car. Where the movie could have gone flat, it became that much more special. I know there are more accomplished movies that will come out with more polish and greater star power. I guarantee that in a year from now, this is something I will still remember as vividly.

Happy Death Day (***1/2)

It's Groundhog's Day meets Scream. I can't think of a better way to put it - a horror movie with a sense of humor. The premise is something that is so specifically-overused that a simple mistake could have toppled the whole picture. Despite flaws and despite a run-time that is perhaps 15 minutes too much, HAPPY DEATH DAY was a whole lot of fun.

It's Tree's Birthday (Jessica Rothe) and she wakes up in the dorm room of an unfamiliar geek (Israel Broussard), hung over, and late for class. She lives on a vast college campus, is caddy with several of her sorority sisters, and has a surprise party planned later in the evening. Oh, and by the end of the night, she'll be murdered.

Now comes the Groundhog Day element, in which Tree awakens in the same dorm immediately after being murdered by a masked assailant. Same geek, same girls, same day. It takes Tree a couple days to work out what's going on: she's trapped in the same day over and over... The catch is that no matter what she does or how much she changes her day, she is destined to be killed by this unknown killer. Finally after much frustrations, Tree admits what's happening to the geek, named Carter, and he eventually begins to believe her. His plan? Make a list of every person who might dislike her and work to unmask the killer. If you catch the killer and survive the day, maybe you can make it to tomorrow. Great.

The film doesn't take itself too seriously, and in fact I would argue this is a comedy before it is a "horror/thriller." Tree's journey of self-discovery is a surprisingly effective one, and we have fun with her along the way. Yes, every 5 or 10 minutes she is killed, but I was rarely scared by this person wearing a baby mask. Nor was I overly eager to find out who the killer was. Who cares? Like Groundhog's Day, the movie enjoys visual humor and some funny scenarios that would likely happen if you were able to repeat the same day over again.

And then Tree sees on the television that an escaped killer has been hospitalized, and she is surprised she hadn't seen that on the news until now. "He must be my killer." And guess what, he basically is. This is not a spoiler per-se, because the film is far from over at this point. I'll be the first to admit that the last third of the film kind of falls apart, loses steam, takes the easy way out, however you want to put it. Even when we think she has solved the mystery, what do you know - the day keeps repeating. I heard in an early screening of the film that they intended to allow the day to repeat forever, and that preview audiences groaned as though having been betrayed. I don't blame them. Even this film, with its happy ending, takes so long to get there that I began to feel cheated... Perhaps I was stuck in a film that would never find a satisfying conclusion?

For all it's worth, the film works. It's a fun thrill ride and a light taste of the Halloween spirit for those who aren't necessarily thrilled with gore/torture porn flicks. The final reveal of the killer might leave you asking more questions than you want to think about, but in the end you have to dismiss this movie as one of those "shut your brains off" when you're watching it. I suspect a repeated viewing of this film might render it dumber than my first reaction might have thought. And that's okay. We aren't aiming for the stars here.

The Florida Project (****1/2)

It was no more than 10 minutes into THE FLORIDA PROJECT that I knew how special a movie this was. It's hard to deny the craft of director Sean Baker and his keen eye for beauty in everyday moments. It's also hard to call this cast anything but brilliant. This is a movie that at first warmed my heart and then  eventually broke it. I cared for these characters, and by the end of such a unique story, I felt as though I had genuinely visited a world I have never seen before.

If you are like me, I would hope you go into this film with as little information as possible. I knew something about a purple motel and very little else. That's mostly right. The setting is a unique one, something that is both escapist and tragically real. The story is from the perspective of three children spending their summer in an extended stay motel, one of those joints you see from the highway and think little of. The motel is in Florida, just outside of Disney World, and tourists drive past on their way to finer hotels and beautiful rides and food. Not our characters, and especially not our heroine, Moonnee (Brooklynn Prince). She lives with her single mother (Bria Vinaite) on the third floor of the motel. Her mother works odd jobs to make it by but mostly spends her nights partying and doing drugs. Moonee has a similar disposition - she swears, she yells, and she's out of control.

We essentially follow Moonee and her friends Jancey (Valeria Cotto) and Scooty (Christopher Rivera). They wander the grounds and spit on guests' cars. They walk several miles down the highway road to beg for free ice cream. They play on the swings and go swimming when it gets hot. They torment the motel manager, Bobby (Willem Dafoe), a stern man who nonetheless looks out for these kids and is sympathetic to their situation. These kids live poor lives, just a heartbeat away from homelessness. Do they realize this? Not at all.

The movie is memorable for its candy-colored settings. The purple motel, a large orange shop, an abandoned city of model homes in all shades of pastel pink... There is something so shocking about having such a beautiful movie set in the most dire circumstances. Perhaps this is meant to be the viewpoint of our kids. To them, the world is an insurmountable place and every day is filled with adventure. A motel like this may be a dump for a tourist, but for a kid, it's a playground of limitless options.

I mentioned how the movie starts off with such charm as we follow the kids around their day. Much of the film feels improvised, and the conversations these kids have with themselves feels so genuine. There are hints of the adult world slowly creeping in (in one of the film's most memorable moments, Bobby confronts an old man who happens to wander onto the nearby playground to chat up some kids). There are also several shots of Moonee taking a bath while listening to loud pop music. At first it's charming to see her bathe her dolls. Later we understand that there is a lot more happening just beneath the surface.

Where the kids have an idealistic life, we have two adults who help us understand the truth of it all. Bobby (Dafoe) is a character who feels lived in and assured in his job. Sure, he knows the motel is a dump, but over time we see him come to protect these kids from the dangers just beyond the fence. This is a remarkable change for Dafoe and a character that is a true hero even if his actions are what any decent person might do. Then we have Moonee's mother, Halley (Vinaite). Here is a performance that shines brightest in the film and yet I am sure many people will dismiss it as "annoying" or "shallow." Nonsense, this is a fully realized character who makes all the wrong choices in the hopes of supporting her daughter. We see her steal, solicit, drink, and get in fist fights, and even by the end of the film when her life is all but over, she has changed not a bit. This aspect is perhaps the most troubling in the film: the idea that these people are bound to a live of poverty and little can be done to break the cycle.

There are so many wondrous moments in this film that are too vast to count. It's a truly original work that has all the makings of a classic. All but one. The film concludes with a spectacular show of emotion from little Brooklynn Prince (the 7-year old star) as the reality of her world finally comes crashing down. Throughout the film, she manages to evade punishment by lying, running, swearing, and hiding. Here we see a little girl grow up before our very eyes as she says goodbye to a friend. And then... the film takes a dramatic turn, perhaps the most shocking ending of any movie I can remember. I won't spoil it, even though it's most likely a dream sequence with clear intentions. The 30-second scene is so jarring in the way it changes film format (it was filmed on the director's own iphone) and a loud, rousing soundtrack that is absent throughout the rest of the film. It's a cute way to end the film but executed so horribly that it all but left my mouth hanging open in shock. Is the idea bad? No. Could it have been better? You bet. I have read many critics and their interpretations of this ending, and I can't justify it with any shred of logic in my mind. It's a head-scratcher like nothing I have seen before.

Regardless of the bad taste left in my mouth during the final moments, this is a film that had tears flowing and my mind lighting up with the talent I was witnessing. This is a wonderful movie that speaks to the heart and shows us a world that is just down the street and yet so far away. Last year's Best Picture went to Moonlight, another Florida-based film that explored the lower classes of America. Here we see another shade, told through the eyes of kindergartners and is yet no less potent. And Brooklynn Price, how many times can I say her name? When Oscars tally the 5 best performances of the year, I hope they remember her authenticity and charm. How close this film got to being perfect, and still how great it was to have seen it at all. This is easily one of the year's best movies.

Loving Vincent (*****)

For all the faults audiences may find in a movie as unique as LOVING VINCENT, I don't think it makes it any less of a monumental achievement. It's a marriage of art and technical prowess. Even the film can't deny it's own brilliance - the opening credits remind us that this is an entirely oil painted film, rendered one frame at a time by over 100 artists. To see it in theaters is to fall into the mind of an artist. The colors are so vivid as they light up the screen with stunning compositions and movements. This is simply a stunning movie.

To know the craft behind it is just as incredible as watching the film, itself. The process of bringing such an ambitious project to the screen resulted in crowd-funding, experiments, and lots of dreaming. Watching the film, it's easy to see the process, but it's not easy to comprehend much beyond it. Each frame is a painting, and shot by shot, we see the artists painting over, adjusting color and form to create a fluid movement. If you wonder how they would keep 65,000 paintings in storage then look no further: no more than 10% of images you see on screen still exist, the rest lay buried under layers of paint.

The story is no less intriguing. We follow a character named Armand (the man in the yellow jacket), son of a postman who has van Gogh's last letter that was addressed to his brother. It's a year after the artist's death and the intention is to give Vincent's brother some peace. Armand makes the journey cross country to a small village outside Paris. Here we learn a startling truth: that van Gogh's brother also committed suicide. What has become of the van Gogh name, and more importantly, what might have driven these men to end their promising lives so soon?

The story follows a chapter book structure. Each individual scene seems to tell its own story, and we become familiar with the techniques used. Armand meets the innkeeper who owned the hotel Vincent lived in at the time of his death. He meets a local doctor, a fisherman, a young boy... Each tells their own account of the man they knew. In contrast to the bright Impressionistic colors of the film, flashbacks of Vincent show nearly photorealistic black and white sections of story. We see his arrival in the town, his steadfastness in painting and art, and a relentless flow of bullies, gossip, and mounting dread. Armand, a man who knew van Gogh and was the subject of some of his paintings, recalls many of these faces from other works by the master. When he meets a girl at a piano, he instinctively tells her "I recognize you."

I can imagine some people becoming bored by such a beautiful film that follows such a predictable structure. The ending concludes just about as we might expect. Whether or not Armand learned any more about Vincent prior to his death (was it even a suicide?) is beyond the point. One character sums it up quite nicely: "you want to know so much about his death, but what do you know of his life?" Quite right. Maybe this film can shed some light. What we are left with is a movie that takes your breath away with each new scene. It's a monumental achievement no matter how you look at it, and a process that I doubt many filmmakers will ever attempt again. Go to see LOVING VINCENT for it's singular vision of storytelling. Each frame of this story captures van Gogh's style and brings his art to the forefront. It's a love letter in many ways - an attempt to pay homage to such a revered man. It is quite the tribute.