In real life dysfunctional
families can cause immense pain to their children which may last a lifetime.
In the movies, however, dysfunctional families are just eccentric rogues
who, beneath their harsh exterior, can be as lovable as puppy dogs. No
matter how dysfunctional they appear at the beginning, we sense that by
the end of the movie, they will be dancing in a circle. Case in point –
Little Miss Sunshine, a heartwarming Indie comedy by first time directors
Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris which has received much critical acclaim.
The film is a funny and entertaining romp which tackles America’s obsession
with winning and, in the process, targets crass pre-teen beauty pageants,
motivational speakers, moody teenagers, emotionally unstable professors,
and cantankerous old men.
While its heart is in
the right place, its bullets are mostly scattershot, only occasionally
hitting their targets and the film does not develop its ideas to the point
where they have a hard edge. The dysfunctional family in question is the
Hoovers (a Kentucky Fried Chicken in every pot?) whose home is in Albuquerque,
New Mexico. The family all strive for something beyond their reach in pursuit
of happiness in a society that bestows no garlands for second place. Like
any good television sitcom, each character is molded to type and fits neatly
into the film’s message. Richard, the father (Greg Kinnear) is a motivational
speaker without anyone to motivate.
The opening of the film
shows him giving his lecture that he calls “Nine Steps to Success” to a
half-empty classroom (he might say it was half full). Sheryl (Toni Collette)
is the long-suffering matriarch of the family who tries to pick up the
pieces after her brother Frank (Steve Carell), a scholar of French writer
Marcel Proust, fails in a suicide attempt after being given the boot by
his gay lover who happens to be a student. The moody teenager Dwayne (Paul
Dano) hasn’t talked to anyone in a year and has vowed to remain silent
until he is accepted in the Air Force Academy. Why an iconoclastic young
man who reads Nietzsche would want to sign up for the U.S. military is
one of those incongruities that will be better left to others to explain.
The center of the film,
however, deals with seven-year old Olive (Abigail Breslin), a sweet but
plain and not too attractive young lady with a pot belly who wants to become
a beauty queen and her relationship with Grandpa (Alan Arkin), a lecherous
cynic. When Olive places second in a beauty contest and the winner has
to vacate her title because she took diet pills, the little girl begins
eligible to compete in the national “Little Miss Sunshine” contest in Redondo
Beach, California. The film then becomes the road trip from hell as the
family packs into their broken down VW bus running on two gears with contrived
breakdowns in each character’s life. Little Miss Sunshine reaches its maximum
impact, however, at the beauty pageant where the directors show us overly
sexualized children who strut their stuff and grotesquely parade in front
of admiring family members in their pursuit of the American dream.
Quite hilarious is the
pasty-faced emcee who sings America the Beautiful into the children’s ears.
While the energy of the direction and excellence of the acting produces
sympathy for the appealing characters, the comedy is at times so forced
and its plot so implausible that even the excellent ensemble cast cannot
save it. Little Miss Sunshine has a “subversive” feel to it and it correctly
hints that intention is the key ingredient in achieving your goal, yet
ultimately it is a pretty safe and comfortable ride and its message that
winning isn’t everything and losing has its rewards feels shopworn to the
point of banality.