Three ads for a crime It is not one movie, but many. There is, among others, the film of the first part, the film of the second part and the film of Frances McDormand. There is also the film that we live, that everywhere touches us closely, that in the script of Martin McDonagh -Who is also in charge of the direction- begins being as inescapable as the red posters of the title and little by little it is devoured by other plots, for other reasons, by the future of other characters that have their color. The work is so irregular that it remains alive because it is far from perfect: some moments are of undoubted mastery but there are entire passages that it is better to lose there.
Frances McDormand, in the skin of Mildred Hayes, is the mother of a young woman raped, murdered and burned, whose crime she is not responsible. As she seeks justice and in the seven months that have passed since the tragedy she has not received any response, she decides to use the advertising space of three posters located on the side of the road, on the outskirts of the city, to remind anyone who passes by that place that she he still waits and blames the police chief for the silence that does not allow him to live. What happens is that nobody seems to like a victim to complain: the victims are there to cry like muffins but if they move the hornet’s nest, if they are really thirsty, they bother, because who can follow the routine calmly if between us breathes a murderer. The judgment of the neighbors is relentless and the process leads her to play the role of a madwoman who violates order.
Unfortunately, and after a few script twists that only stretch the film, good intentions are sent to change. Those who were accomplices – due to indolence, negligence, bureaucrats – are not so bad at heart, and it is necessary that you attend their dramatic arc: you are not going to be so stupid as to set fire to the same society that, despite not Being impeccable assures you that –at least in theory, if everything goes well- you will sleep at home and dream of the little angels. The film that we all know, in which a lot of young girls are taken away in a cruel and brutal way, and where the rest, both the one who is silent and the one who morbidly consumes the details on the news, is an accomplice of perversity is relegated to the background. How many proper names do we learn at this time that with the speed of light are lost in memory because another name, another story, other yellowish peculiarities immediately ensues? In short, the daughter of Mildred Hayes is the raped, tortured and murdered daughter of every mother who cries to heaven for a little justice and witnesses with anger how all of us, because we need to move on, forget her name and her face, we also take his life for condemning it to oblivion.
Martin McDonagh builds a film that is often thanked for humor for being disrespectful but ends up demanding more irreverence when the hand loses its pulse. All the lights, of course, point to the script, while the direction, without being poor, leaves little flavor. The Frances McDormand film is saved as it could not be otherwise, which in each frame reminds you that it is a beast of which there is not. It is difficult to interpret a character like this, who has already wandered around like a zombie before he started shooting because he lost his will and lost his mind. However, she not only finds nuances but also adopts masculine traits that make her resemble an intractable and renegade cowboy. Three ads for a crime It promises more than it can deliver but it is alive: full of stereotypes and yet bright.
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