A cult of one

In preparation for Oscar, I finally saw multi-nominated Three Billboards outside Ebbing, MO. I know I may be alone in this, but I did not like Frances McDormand. She is favored to win the Best Actress Oscar, as she did for Fargo twenty years ago. I was alone in not especially liking her in that, either.

Regardless of the role, I get nothing but opacity from her. No sincerity. Just technique. Considering the esteem she's held in by her peers, I realize I'm a cult of one. But there's no escaping it. I don't enjoy watching her.

On the other hand, there's Sam Rockwell. He's nominated for Best Supporting Actor for the same movie -- though I would argue his is not a supporting role at all. Anyway, he plays a dim, reactive and racist cop. His character is just as foreign to me as hers, and lacks nobility, as hers does. Yet I appreciate his performance so much more.

I always like Sam Rockwell. I sense that he has genuine affection for everyone he plays, even the unlikable fellows. I enjoy watching him play even icky guys. I hope he wins his Oscar Sunday night. Not only for Three Billboards, but for his varied career.

With his Golden Globe