Afterlife, Part 2: Revenge

THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI (B+) - This gripping tale from the methodical Martin McDonagh ("In Bruges," "Seven Psychopaths") is almost too smart and clever for its own good. It feels workshopped within an inch of its life, with pieces that fall too neatly into place, and in the end comes off as more of a screenwriter's parlor trick than a powerful dark-comic drama.

But if you want to watch Frances McDormand and Sam Rockwell go toe to toe for about two hours, you can't go wrong with this sharp film.

McDormand is frumped up to play Mildred, a plain-spoken resident of the fictional town in Missouri who is grieving her daughter, who was raped and killed. Seven months after the murder, she decides to shame the the local sheriff, Willoughby (Woody Harrelson), by wondering aloud, on three big billboards, why the case hasn't been solved.

Willoughby is dying of cancer, but that doesn't deter Mildred from her mission. Her biggest rival here is a loose-cannon deputy, Dixon (Rockwell), who has a checkered past that includes assaulting minority suspects. Dixon is a pathetic drunk who lives with his racist mother and who is no match for Mildred's determination. He has no qualms about throwing an innocent victim out of a second-story window.

Events are placed strategically into the plot with a master's precision, and as those pieces start to interlock, an audience could be under the impression that they are watching the work of a safe-cracker rather than a filmmaker. One-liners have been sharpened like Ginsu knives. Mildred is transformed into a virtual super-hero who doesn't flinch an inch when threatened by a menacing thug, even as tossed objects fly past her clenched jaw.

Coincidences occur a little too conveniently. A few crucial plot points defy common sense. The casual violence is played for laughs. Peter Dinklage's dwarf character is treated like a circus performer, with Dinklage milking the maudlin as if he's auditioning for a Coen brothers farce. John Hawkes sings a lone note as Mildred's brute of an ex-husband, mocked for having a 19-year-old girlfriend. A flashback shows Mildred feuding with her rebellious daughter, letting fly an unfortunate tirade that eerily predicts the teenager's demise.

Can a movie be too perfectly constructed? "Three Billboards" packs a wallop emotionally at times, and its black humor can be cutting, if a little too far toward Raymond Chandler tough-guy talk (especially Mildred). But there's just something antiseptic about the final result, like a reminder that McDonagh is the smartest storyteller in the room and we're just here for the popcorn.

BONUS TRACK
Over the closing credits, Townes van Zandt's "Buckskin Stallion Blues" by Amy Annelle: