Little Miss Sunshine begins with a close up on the eyes and glasses of a little girl named Olive. She is looking at the camera. Looking directly at us. Actually, she’s watching television, but we can only tell this by studying the flickering shadows reflected on her glasses. And so we are forced to meet her gaze.
The opening scene usually tells you everything you need to know about a movie. In Little Miss Sunshine, it is clear from the beginning that we are in for a little bit of extraverted introspection. We are going to have to make eye contact with the characters and we are going to have to look to them by looking at ourselves.
This film’s tagline calls it the story of “a family on the verge of a breakdown.” Not the ideal tagline for Little Miss Sunshine, but at least it hints at the movie’s heart: a story about how we live when we’d rather be living in our dreams and our delusions. Hard to sum that up in a catchy little phrase, but I do think the marketing department could have done better.
It’s a strange and funny little film. While it, no doubt, warrants any and all of its comparisons to National Lampoon’s Vacation, it is in a different class all together. It’s quirky. It’s dark. It’s ultimately pretty optimistic. Not to mention packed with a dream cast.
I have long suspected that Toni Collette and Greg Kinnear are the coolest people in Hollywood. She’s beautiful in person but usually plays someone that was obviously too busy even to shower daily. He’s almost always playing the part of the dashing leader that’s suffocating under his own weaknesses. I never would have put the two of them together, but that’s part of the brilliance of Little Miss Sunshine.
And then there’s Steve Carell who can do no wrong these days as far as I’m concerned. Perhaps I’m biased. But still, I would argue that he’s at his best in Little Miss Sunshine. He’s subtle, his performance is powerful and he has changed the way I will say “Nietzsche” for the rest of my life. His character’s relationship with Dwayne (played by an Elliott-Smith-looking Paul Dano) should open up a new Oscar category for the best on screen duo.
Speaking of the Oscar…
The would-be Little Miss Sunshine herself, Abigail Breslin, is going to win an Oscar for this one. Granted, every time a kid does a fairly decent job in any movie ever made, someone somewhere has to go on and on about how that kid should win the Oscar. But this time it’s for real.
Should I even mention Alan Arkin? He’s pretty much flawless, but then again he usually is. It’s easy to take him for granted as he plays the film’s lovable spectacle. He played the guy that was going to upstage everyone else as soon as he walked on screen. Kinda like Mater on Cars or Jar-Jar in The Phantom Menace. But the thing that struck me is that his characterization is extremely uncomfortable. He’s like a hangover.
It’s a relentless character. Unapologetic and probably beyond redemption even, in final judgment, in his relationship with Olive. To the family, he is lovable without being likable, but it’s perhaps the exact opposite to his audience. Not many people can be graceful and completely out of control at the same time, but Mr. Arkin manages it beautifully. I can’t imagine that kind of character will win any awards, but it got my respect.
The film’s directors were offering us a rare talent, the writer was telling the tale beautifully, the soundtrack was haunting, etc. All the elements were there and they were very impressive. But it was the cast that stole my heart. All of them were at their best.
