Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, where am I?

Rating: 10/10 (30 April 2012)

Little Miss Sunshine is a salute to the heart and a feast for your soul that you can eat with your eyes. When I originally watched it back in 2007, I fell in love with it, and throughout repeated viewings (this is my fourth) it has held up better than a lot of mainstream comedies and other films that rely heavily on quirkiness and subtleties. This is a genuine, heartfelt excursion through the depressing event of life.
We are taken into the Hoover household, a dysfunctional, disconnected band of social misfits. Greg Kinnear plays Richard, an aspiring motivational speaker, who continues to reference his theories about "winners and losers," while unintentionally browbeating his family. Sheryl (Collette) is the pro-honesty mother, continuously understanding and always bettering her children, but rarely talking about herself and her past and ambitions. Her brother Frank (Carrell) is a homosexual scholar who moves in with the family after his suicide attempt. Richard and Sheryl's children are Dwayne (Dano), Sheryl's from a previous marriage, who is currently partaking in a vow of silence until he can fulfill his dream of being a test pilot, and the spunky Olive (Breslin) who is breathlessly practicing her reclusive dance routine, coached by Richard's father Edwin (Arkin).
With this lovable cast of champions, it's no wonder why the film's turnout is so heavenly. The plot gets going when Olive gets accepted into California's "Little Miss Sunshine Beauty Pageant," and the already lower-middle class family decides to take a bright yellow Volkswagen Microbus from their home in Albuquerque, New Mexico to the event. Along the way, the family becomes reconnected, sometimes hostile, but most of all enlightened about themselves and the people around them.
These characters are so likable because they are imperfect. They are flawed, but not in the sense where dislike breeds contempt. The film is littered with poignant scenes, all across the board, and it's difficult not to spoil all of them. One of my favorites is when Dwayne discovers some life-changing news. Another takes place in a diner, another a confrontation between two men on a dock near the end of the film, and one of incorruptible happiness and optimism takes place in a motel room between Olive and her grandfather. It all leads up to that brilliant, unforgettable, amazingly-choreographed dance number that is so astonishing and satisfying you may have to watch it again.
What makes the film work is its ability to, almost inadvertently, dodge sitcom clichés and cutesy sequences. This is a true film, not manipulated by a flowery script or blooming characters. This is a walk on the side of life we rarely partake in, and for once, it feels natural and authentic.
The performances by actors of all different ages earn the title of "career-worthy." Steve Carrell is better here than he was in many of his comedy films, proving that many comedians can and will tackle a successful and promising drama role. Kinnear is wonderful as the closeted loser. Collette is a tad unsung, but the film does not overlook her at all. Abigail Breslin and Paul Dano are delightful, and Alan Arkin's one-liners cut through the cynicism so as not to overwhelm the viewer with depressed feelings as a form of guilt.
This is a gem in every sense of the word. It reminds me much of Sam Mendes' stellar American Beauty. Both films involve dilapidated families. One is a satire, the other is purposely poignant. Both have a plethora of fantastic performances, a script to boot their subjects, and both sort of convey a similar message at the end. Little Miss Sunshine left me feeling content and satisfied, but also very upset for reasons I still can't comprehend. Perhaps it was the abundance of dark humor. The same feelings plagued me upon finishing American Beauty. They are wonderful films, but pack in an after-taste that is not bitter, nor sweet, but real. That's the keyword for both pictures.
Starring: Greg Kinnear, Toni Collette, Steve Carell, Abigail Breslin, Paul Dano, and Alan Arkin. Directed by: Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris.