Strong performances brighten 'Little Miss Sunshine'
Austin American-Statesman
What a difference the right cast makes.
"Little Miss Sunshine," which attracted some attention at this year's Sundance festival, easily could have been the kind of pleasant but disposable little film that so often rounds out that festival's program. The dialogue is witty, sure, but it tells a very familiar story. The direction is sharp, but the filmmakers stretch for some of their quirks.
Fox Searchlight Pictures
3 out of 5 stars The verdict: Actors lift what could have been a routine indie comedy. Directors: Valerie Faris, Jonathan Dayton
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Those misgivings feel fairly minor, though, when characters are brought to life as these are: Every one of the six main roles is perfectly cast, with each actor increasing the movie's pleasure factor just a bit.
"Sunshine" is clearly an ensemble film, even if Steve Carell's recent successes, such as "The 40 Year-Old Virgin," make his presence stand out. Carell plays a Proust scholar who recently tried to kill himself over a failed love affair. He wears his depression stylishly, with a neatly trimmed beard and resort-worthy wardrobe. Though his relatives have taken Carell in to protect him from himself, the cool way he appraises their foibles can make it seem as if he's actually the responsible one.
The two-parent, two-child, one-in-law household he enters has its share of mockable qualities: Grandpa (the entertainingly incorrigible Alan Arkin) is a dope-shooting porn fiend; Dad (Greg Kinnear) has an epically boring fixation on becoming a motivational-speaking star; and teenage son Dwayne (Paul Dano) hates the world and has taken a vow of silence. The women are a bit better: Toni Collette plays a reasonably level-headed mom, and Abigail Breslin (the kid sister in "Signs") is an adorably weird little girl who dreams of beauty pageants despite her decidedly unconventional looks.
Breslin's aspirations give the film its name: She unexpectedly qualifies for the national Little Miss Sunshine contest, forcing the entire family (half of whom would much rather stay home) to pile into a troubled VW minibus and trek from New Mexico to California.
The ensuing trip might be generic, but it has fun with some road-film clichés. The requisite car trouble, for example, leaves the VW functional only in third gear. So for most of the movie, each attempt to start the car requires our gang to get out and push, then leap in, freight-hopping style, once the bus is going at a good clip.
Another near-requirement of the road film is a trip to the emergency room. This incident is handled with less aplomb, stretching credibility (not for the first time) and requiring the film to become somewhat more wacky than it wants to be. Ditto for the big climax, when the filmmakers flounder around trying for a "Napoleon Dynamite"-level epiphany that doesn't quite work.
Along the way, though, are genuinely nice moments that thanks to the right line-reading or an inspired gesture work a shade better than first-time filmmakers (co-directors Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris are MTV vets making their feature debut) have any right to hope. It won't enter the quirktastic-voyage hall of fame, but it's a refreshing ride nonetheless.
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