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 (082606) Uncle
Frank, the nation's preeminent Proust scholar, is sporting
white gauze on his wrists, a result of his recent suicide
attempt. Grandpa got kicked out of Sunset Manor for snorting
heroin. Daddy wants to be a motivational speaker, only he's
really the kind of annoying sales-pitch guy who motivates
others to roll their eyes. Teenage brother Dwayne, a
Nietzsche fanatic, has taken a vow of silence. And Mom? Mom
sneaks smokes and considers it a balanced meal when she
opens a bag of salad to go with her Diet Sprite and
chicken-in-a-bucket dinner spread.
Throw all of them into a broken-down, yellow VW bus en route
from Albuquerque to Redondo Beach so that 7-year-old Olive
-- big glasses, fat ponytail, sweet curve of baby fat -- can
compete for the dubious title of Little Miss Sunshine, and
it feels like a recipe for disaster. Which it is.
Hilariously so.
"Little Miss Sunshine" does not include any of the
graduating comedy class from "Old School" -- no Will
Ferrell, no Vince Vaughn, no Wilson brother -- and it
doesn't depend on jokes involving bodily functions,
streaking or beer bongs. But it's laugh-out-loud funny,
soda-out-the-nose funny, heartbreaking, hilarious and,
basically, a total scream. By the time this family road trip
rolls to a stop at a hotel next to a California interstate
-- where a choreographed dance number elevates truly funny
to even funnier -- the film salvages a summer movie season
rich with Pirates and Prada, but sadly short of
belly-busting laughs.
Written by Michael Arndt and directed by the
husband-and-wife team of Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris
(whose résumés primarily feature music videos), "Little Miss
Sunshine" triumphs with acting performances that are, across
the board, poignant, smart and real. As Richard, Greg
Kinnear is that familiar insufferable salesman, spouting
positive-think-speak 24/7 -- "Sarcasm is the refuge of
losers," for example -- while secretly driving his little
girl (played by Abigail Breslin) to tears because "Daddy
hates losers" and she's not so sure the Little Miss Sunshine
pageant crown is a sure thing. Grandpa (Alan Arkin) is kinky
and crass and nihilistic (and the one who shows the most
care for Olive, for better and worse).
The always wonderful Toni Collette is delightful as Sheryl,
the mom trying to hold together a fractured and
near-bankrupt family, but the fact that her strong
performance ends up feeling like a backdrop only speaks to
how powerful her cast mates perform. The scene-stealer here
is Steve Carell, whose turn as the awkward, tortured Uncle
Frank is a revelation in its subdued lines and stilted body
language -- just watching him run brings on fits of
laughter. The love of his life -- a male grad student -- has
just run off with the second -most preeminent Proust scholar
in the nation, and Frank's been relegated to sharing a room
with his nephew, Dwayne, who welcomes him by writing,
"Please don't kill yourself tonight" in his ubiquitous
notebook.
And Breslin, in her about-to-be-outgrown pink shorts, bare
legs and red-leather cowboy boots -- that look that moms
everywhere cringe at but can't actually ban -- captures a
sense of innocent wonder traveling in a world of grown-up
despair. There's a reason she wears earphones for much of
the film; but she's also the linchpin that holds the whole
crazy Hoover clan together. They got in the bus in the first
place to make her dream happen; what they'll do to keep it
going -- despite their own misery -- is what gives the film
its heart.
The Hoover family lives in a '70s-style house in
Albuquerque, all wood-paneled rooms and wall-to-wall
carpeting. Richard is trying to sell a nine-step plan to
success...unsuccessfully. Sheryl is trying to take care
of her grieving brother ("I'm glad you're here," she tells
him, after retrieving him from the hospital, post-suicide
attempt. "That makes one of us," he deadpans) and keep the
family finances afloat. Grandpa uses the adage "I'm old!" to
justify his predilections for heroin, porn and sexually
explicit conversation.
On their two-day trip to California, all face individual
crises; meanwhile, there is the pervading sense that
heartbreak and embarrassment loom ahead for Olive, who looks
not a whit like your average overly made up,
rhinestone-wearing child beauty queen, but seems pretty much
oblivious to that fact.
Ostensibly a road movie, the film gets a big boost because
the family VW van is practically a seventh character: A gag
that has everyone pushing the car to get it started, then
jumping into the side door at a frantic run, works over and
over again, surprisingly, right up to the final scene. And
when the Hoovers exit the interstate and can see the pageant
hotel from the highway -- but no possible way of actually
getting there -- it's hilariously familiar to anyone whose
family vacations involved road trips to Famous American
Landmarks with crumpled, outdated maps to guide them.
What happens when the family actually makes it to the Little
Miss Sunshine pageant -- which in its stereotypical
rendering is both familiar and appalling -- is sad, sweet,
enlightening...a whole host of things, really. But
mostly it's just funny. Really, really funny. And absolutely
worth 800 miles of riding along in a VW bus.
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