In my most recent field trip to the local Loew’s, I caught Little Miss Sunshine, a film that just oozes family dysfunctionality and our current American values.  Of course, the film’s indirect intention (at least I’m hoping), is to exploit these distorted values and show just how idiotic it is to idealize the image of perfection. 

Olive Hoover is a young, ambitious little girl, and, consequently, the only semi-normal member of what we have all come to know and love as the standard American dysfunctional family.  Her father, Richard, is a motivational speaker who wastes the family’s budget trying to launch a 9-step program on how to be a “winner” as opposed to a “loser.” Naturally, Richard applies this same program to his own family in typical salesman form, which drives his wife, Sheryl, to the point of insanity.  Their other child, Dwayne, has been reading up on the works of Nietzsche, and has settled on the concept of struggling to achieve one’s goals, in taking a vow of silence until reaching his dream of being a fighter pilot.  Grandpa Hoover is a foul-mouthed, horny heroin-addict, who can’t help but speak his mind on all situations, and colorfully so.  And to round out the circus, Steve Carell plays Uncle Frank, a homosexual Proust scholar who loses his gay lover and his grant in one fell swoop, and subsequently tries to kill himself, albeit unsuccessfully.  Phew.  I bet this family has some seriously fun holiday parties.  A little egg nog goes a long way.

Olive’s major flaw is that she has been conditioned to idolize perfection, clearly by her father, who is pushy and flaky enough to make you want to stab something (or him).  She is infatuated with becoming a beauty queen, and when she discovers that she has qualified for the Little Miss Sunshine pageant, the entire family embarks on a mission to get her there to win.  And that’s where the disaster begins.  Isn’t it interesting that the trials and tribulations of a family with so many real problems is a comedy to our culture? God, I love this country.

As if having to drive hundreds of miles wasn’t enough, the family car happens to be a 1920 VW Ninja Turtles van. You know what I mean. Needless to say, this automobile is not safe to drive down the block, let alone across states.  Some of the most priceless scenes involve some mechanical malfunctions with the van, and I’ll leave it at that.  While most people will inherently acknowledge the car troubles as comedy, they double as a catalyst to the family unity.  In an effort to get to the pageant “no matter what”, the help of each and every family member is needed, and that subconsciously brings them closer as a group.

You can’t help but notice how absolutely adorable and innocent Olive is, and you almost feel bad that she has to grow up around these degenerates.  However, she is remarkably understanding for her age.  There is one climactic scene in which Dwayne comes to a shocking realization and breaks out of his 9-month silence.  Out of sheer frustration, he individually calls out his family members for their problems.  And in a brief moment of silence, you can see in each one of their faces a sign of acceptance, as if to say, “Yeah, we’re all seriously effed-up. But we are a family, for better or worse.  And at least we have each other.” Touching, I know.

Once the Hoovers finally arrive at the Pageant (and by finally, I mean barely), the pageant itself is where the message of this film comes full circle.  You can see clearly what America’s perspective of perfection is, and it looks something like one of those hollow, porcelain dolls (I actually had a Jon Benet joke here, but at this point it’s not even inappropriate, it’s just overkill).  Emphasis on the hollow.  Olive gives forth her best performance of self, and, although unfilfulling of the porcelain norm, puts her own stamp on the pageant that won’t soon be forgotten.  Believe me, it’s something you have to experience in the theater.  You have to believe this film has been a hit because the conflicts are not at all far-fetched, and people can easily relate.  Go see it if you get the chance.  And for God’s sake, watch out for those little porcelain monsters.