Posted: 08/10/2002

Sunshine State

(2002)

by Laura Abraham

Writer-director John Sayles’ latest is a character-driven ensemble piece that takes a look at the dull tranquility of small-town life.

My first introduction to John Sayles was his brilliantly realized independent film, The Brother from Another Planet (1984). As I watched him flesh out political ideas using his actors and a strong story instead of spoon-feeding the audience with tired expressions, I remember thinking this director had a way with filmmaking that others lacked. He has the ability to tackle a hackneyed social issue in a novel and creative manner. By allowing the audience to digest otherwise tired material with a new flavor, Sayles captures the essence of filmmaking with a conscience: I was hooked.

The next Sayles film I viewed was Matewan (1987), and was pleased to find he was also capable of making good historical dramas. Mr. Sayles’ philosophy seems tied to a solid storyline as articulated via the performers’ interpretation. The result is an experience unique among film audiences - they are allowed to think for themselves and sort out whatever the message might be, whether political or emotional or social. As an enduring fan of anything John Sayles is involved with, I am most thankful for his insight, which has allowed me to feel very much at home with his films.

Having praised him for past efforts I must admit here and now that Sunshine State, Sayles’ most recent directorial effort, is not his best. The film is not a lost cause, however, since a second-rate Sayles effort still has a higher quality value than most films. In my opinion, watching a mediocre John Sayles movie is much like reading a bad non-fiction book; no matter how bad that book is, due to the fact that it is non-fiction allows the reader to always walk away with a nugget of information otherwise unknown. Sunshine State is Sayles doing what Sayles is great at; taking a cliched, oft over told story and giving it a fresh path to travel.

The story centers on two women with impossible expectations drowning in familial responsibility. They have at times both left and returned to this very average small Florida town. Edie Falco, of TV’s The Sopranos, is brilliantly common as Marly, the daughter of the owner of the local motel and small-town restaurant. Living in the town she grew up in was never her life’s aspiration, nor working at the same restaurant her father made her work in as a teenager, but this is the life she solemnly trudges through each day. She makes the most of it by hiring a day manager so that she is free to drink tequila in the middle of the afternoon. “I figure if you’re going to drink, why fuck around,” is how she justifies her actions to Timothy Hutton, the contractor with whom she ends up having a short lived, but pleasant affair. Falco plays her character with so much genuine ease and compassion that I felt as though I knew her. I could easily imagine myself having tequila shots with this lady and be quite content just listening to her. Sayles, on more than one occasion, allows the camera to linger on Marly (Falco) long enough to let her work through her thoughts. She has some of the more memorable lines as the bitter, middle-aged woman with unrealized dreams.

The second woman, Desiree Perry, played by Angela Basset, is a woman sent away at age 15 by her proper and religious parents. She was impregnated by the local football hero. This was such an embarrassment to her parents that they sent her to live elsewhere. When the baby died, Desiree decided to let her life in that small town die, as well, and kept moving. She eventually came home after not calling or visiting in quite some time. When she finally arrives home, people are hurt and angry with her for what they perceive a very selfish existence on her part. Soon it becomes clear she is dealing with her own pain over what happened and her belief that her parents’ actions were ultimately more selfish than her own.

Throughout the movie Sayles introduces a series of off the wall characters to this story of misfortune and missed opportunities. There is football star Flash Phillips who, due to injury, misses out on a most promising career and has resigned himself to selling used cars. Timothy Hutton plays a man forever working, opting for hotel rooms and a paycheck over a home and family. Wonderfully accomplished as the small town do-gooder trying to make a parade out of nothing is Mary Steenburgen as Francine Pickney. Her husband is a gambler too down on his luck to even fulfill his fantasy of killing himself.

It is through the experience of all these people that we see this community and, to a larger degree, American society, as it struggles through life’s little disappointments and larger life choices. We begin to understand how greater issues such as corporate greed and consumerism, as much as familial strife, can cause people to become disconnected from their environment and themselves.

The most pleasant thing was that I never felt as though Sunshine State was telling me what to think or how to feel, but rather just to feel it. Whatever life is, it is there to be experienced and Sunshine State is a small reminder of that.

At the same time, the movie is depressing without being a heavy-handed slam on corporate America. There is nothing wrong with heavy-handed approaches to political issues in films; it is in fact more common than the introspective positioning of Sayles’ film. John Sayles, with films like Sunshine State and City of Hope, allow the actors to reduce the larger political message down to the personal point of view Sayles is aware that he does not need to slap his audience in the face to get his point across; the very reality of the residents of this tourist town is depressing without needing to preach. He lines up his camera on a situation and simply allows the message to slowly permeate our minds from the expressions and attitudes of the characters on the screen.

For example, Spike Lee and Michael Moore, while brilliant and courageous, tell us tales of societal ills and corporate greed designed to make us feel guilt. In Sunshine State, Sayles seems to understand we can’t all be in a constant state of revolutionary vigilance, because that is an impossible place to be if one is at all interested in living one’s life to its fullest. At the end of Sunshine State I did not want to fight against corporate consumerism - I just wanted to do some tequila shots with Marly and take my shoes off.

The changing face of America is a sad reality indeed, but I still need to enjoy my day-to-day life and this is what Sayles and his crazy cast of characters in Sunshine State allow me to do.

Laura Abraham lives and worries in Ann Arbor, Mi. She is currently worrying about a spider that got lost in K-boogie’s car on the way to the film, Cherish. If you see it call this number: 1-800-IWORRIES

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