"Everyone, just... pretend to be normal"

Rating: Null/10 (4 November 2009)

Have you ever read a film poster or DVD cover quote, promising that the movie in question is so funny "You'll fall off your chair"? Of course you have. But how likely is it to happen? Statistically, I'd wager "Not very - and, come to think of it, never" as opposed to "On the carpet, supine".
People! Listen to me: with mine own eyes I have witnessed the miracle of chair-falling-offing. And not just involving one person, but dozens. It occurred near the end of Little Miss Sunshine, a hugely influential word-of-mouth phenomenon, which subsequently saw execs descending on Sundance in drives, hoping to bag their very own indie-lite comedy. While naturally, the resulting rash of quirkily cynical items have proved as cookie-cutter in their way as any mainstream variety; Smart People and Gigantic (also featuring Paul Dano) immediately spring to mind.
None of this, of course, is Little Miss Sunshine's fault. The film's comparative innocence is a big factor in its success. The performances are exemplary, very believable, and very touching. While husband-wife directors Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris immediately secured plinths for themselves in the pantheon of classic comedy, mere seconds after the familiar strains of Rick James' "Super Freak" kicked in.
Because that's when the miracle happened, at least in row upon row at the Cineworld Fulham Road. First the shoulders shook. Then the stomach crunched. Then the knees buckled and flopped sideways. Until, helpless to protest, torso followed legs to slide swiftly to the floor.