It is kind of funny to watch this film, six years after its release (and subsequent kerfuffle re: Sam Rockwell's character and what it means to write a redemption arc for a racist cop). Martin McDonagh certainly has a style; I think you can lodge many of the same complaints about this film as you can about The Banshees of Inisherin (the dissonance between black comedy and deep, human tragedy feels more like whiplash than one might hope). A keen analysis of Aaron Sorkin's work is that his dialogue only really works in settings where you expect everyone involved to be ultra-literate dorks with tremendous egos about what they do (c.f. The West Wing, The Social Network) and in much the same way I think McDonagh's tendency towards violence and shock only works to its full effect in something like In Bruges, where you are meant to feel the distance between the characters' relationship to violence and your own.

But there is so much to enjoy in this film: the terrific score and cinema work, McDormand's battleaxe performance, Harrelson's beautiful monologues. I do not think this was a Best Picture; it was still worth my time.


Lightning bolt
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