Little Miss Sunshine

DISCLAIMER: Apologies for possible spelling and/or grammatical errors, I do realise you all are smart and intelligent and deserve better but I am on someone elses computer and although they have said I can take as long as I want I am still a little uncomfortable with taking as long as I need to edit my work.

THE REVIEW:
I've quite liked observing the formation of this rather new (relatively considering film history) genre of art house film. I think in the past I have named this new genre as indie, domestic, American, suburban, quirky, comic drama - I never was overly susinct with the English language nor was I ever not over indulgent in explanation as I am sure is quite obvious to most of you by now.

The origins of the IDASCD genre (I am going to go out and call it a genre although I think really its more of a style or type) stem from the left of centre, patient and odd humour of The Cohen Brothers, often but not always the endearing bleakness of the social world found in Tom Solonz films, Lance Accords prettiness in picture and sophistcated visual style, and an influence of Northern European (think Danish and Sweddish) cinema and music can be suggested without the pretentious scoffs of the unemployed cinema academic elite.

The qualities that situate films such as Virgin Suicides, Lost in Translation, You, Me and Everyone You Know, Squid and The Whale, Garden State (maybe), Thumbsucker, amongst others within this genre (as I and no one who is actually an authority will delineate) are:

1) a focus on character and relationships with little or loose plot development.

2) a cool indie pop soundtrack created by indie bands or revival hipster bands (See Lost in Translation soundtrack*)

3) dialogue usually dominates over action, although sophisticated visual language and a consideration of mis en scene are vital.

4)The film makers usually subvert the 'starriness' of their hollywood drawcard (Bill Murry has made a career out of this process to wonderful, hilarious and standing ovation worthy effect. Kenau Reeves , despite his efforts in Thumbsucker remains an annoying knobby actor poofy boy to watch)

5) the rest of the cast will be startling and beautiful performers but unknown actors.

6) the protagonists are pathetic (as in inducing pathos), they are not sexy but are cute, endearing and awkwardly human.

I could waffle into chocolate icecream and maple syrupy oblivion about these qualities and how these films operate outside the Hollywood mainstream whilst still being firmly within the realms of classic hollywood storytelling and how the mechanism of genre effects the production and distribution then lead into an exploration of the 'independent' branches of the big prouction houses...but then I wouldn't be reviewing the film Little Miss Sunshine would I?

Sometimes this genre, such as myself, doesn't actually go anywhere and can at times be slow moving, trite and boring - not necessarily at the same time. Marie Anoinette, unfortunately, is an example of this (see review below).

Little Miss Sunshine, however, is not one of this films.

It is one of the best written films I have seen this year not only in this genre but in general. If you are interested script writing check out the first family meal scene to witness a pristine example of (and this is for those co-cinema- student buddies of mine =) the "call to adventure" according to Chris Vogler or the "first turning point" which leads in act 2 if using Syd Fields Paradigm.

People often try hard not to write to a formula as if this is a bad and evil thing. In fact the genre I have been describing in a round about way is based upon the idea of not being of the classic Hollywood structure. But 'form' IS expression and the writers of Little Miss Sunshine show the possibilities of creative, moving and engaging writing withn a well practiced structure.

But as the French New Wave (or was it Bunel...? Anyone? Anyone? ) aspoused writing is not a film, the screenplay is not in and of itself a work of art but merely a blueprint for the production of one.

Left in the capable hands of the director, cast and crew the words translate on to the screen with sincereity and humour.

Match Pitchu is a grumpy old man at the ripe old age of 26 and didn't appreciate the enthusiasm of the over responsive audience who were so engaged with this film they would combust into applause at the climax and again when the credits rolled. Their laughter was generous and their involment joyous. I felt relieved and free to laugh and giggle in my marshsall speaker volume and be a) not the only one laughing b) not able to be heard amongst the understated smirks of the carlton coolsies or above the huffs of the black doned The Age reading older centre leftys.

The publicity for Little Miss Sunshine proudly gloats "movie of the year" and I think, for this movie clubber, it just might be...maybe...

Coming Soon...

Movie Club Movie of the Year Poll!

*I can't seem to link at the moment apologies. You'll have to Google it

Marie Anoinette

We are all Sophia Coppola’s friend. Just like we are all Spike Jones’ friend and Michelle Gaunrey’s pal, Lance Accord’s brunch buddy and Charlie Kaufmann’s barista. They are the creative types who make things (be those ‘things’ films, or screenplays or whatever, there are plenty of ah-tee-sts who can slide effortlessly into this labeled, woolen jumper of warmth and admiration - pick one for yourself and see how it feels) that we relate to; that does not feel out of our reach, but close and known. They say things we have felt before or put a song in a film that we have swooned too, or explored an idea that we were wanting someone to delve into and they swim and float and dog paddle through all this with tenderness, bright colours and/or an honesty amidst pretty pictures. We are the malleable 20-somethings and these people create amongst us, not intentionally for us.

At least that’s what it feels like to me.

But then again in 1999 I thought Ella Hooper and I would have been friends had we ever met. So maybe I am not of the norm…perhaps that is a well established fact amongst the well (and not so well) established wall of friendship who will be reading this.

Therefore when I went to see Marie Antoinette I was there for an old friend; a friend whose acquaintance I met in 1999 with Virgin Suicides and the essence of which flourished and morphed in a cherished and infallible kinship in 2003 with Lost in Translation. After reading quite deflating reviews of the film in the Village Voice and The New Yorker, I went to see Marie Antoinette with strong desire to like the film, despite the odds, and initially this was quite easy. ‘Its genius’, I thought ‘staged and theatrical take on the period drama, but without the irony – because irony is so 2005.

‘It’s self conscious and of our time’ I went on, ‘ It is Sophia showing us her close connection to the text with feeling and honesty. Perhaps catering or telling a story to those who other wise find period pieces a little naff.,’ the chickens in my little damp farmyard garden of a brain chirped.

As the film bore on through the landscape of old school Fwenchy social circuits, and the verdant visual language continued with sweet sugar sunshine loveliness Miss Coppola remained, as she tends to do, remarkably and mysteriously distant from her characters. This is usually, in her other films, really kewl *sweeps long straggly fringe from melancholy and pouty face* but amongst the rich colours and flamboyant, beautiful back drop of Versailles this distance isn’t as cool or as engrossing as in her previous films.

I still have an affection for the film, probably because I could ‘see what she was trying to do’ but it does not move you and the protagonist perhaps of the Paris Hilton school of consumerism is actually, …well…a little annoying. I must admit that when news of the break from the Bastille and the angry mob charge the palace I sorta agreed with them, maybe cause I lean towards the lefty side of things and dress in peasant clothes. These are people, mind you, whose total screen is about 30 seconds in comparison to the, what felt like a mammoth, 2 and bit hours allocated to Miss Prissy Pants Kirsten Dunst. It was too long and I often found myself a little bored. Even now I feel I am betraying someone whose vision I get but the execution of which was a little skewed.

It is a brave and fun film which never judges Marie and perhaps I did too harshly to feel moved by her story. It gets me interested in history though…what happened next? The birthday party scene is beautiful and one in which the combination of Coppla and Accord’s genius works to visual perfection. It is also worth seeing this film for the artistic direction. Lllluuuush.