Little Miss Sunshine 

Release date: August, 2006

Directed By: Jonathan Dayton & Valerie Faris

Screenplay: Michael Arndt

To start off this blog I've decided to post about one of my favorite films of all of time, Little Miss Sunshine. I've watched this film about 5-10 times in the past three years as it has become sort of a tool in my healing process. 

For those who have never seen this film before, here is a quick summary:  A dysfunctional family piles into a beat-up yellow VW van to drive their awkward, beauty-pageant-obsessed daughter (Olive) to a competition. Along the way, their suicidal uncle (Frank), mute-in-protest son (Dwayne), motivational-speaker dad (richard), frazzled mom (Sheryl), and drug-loving grandpa (Edwin) all clash, bond, and break down (emotionally and mechanically). It’s basically a road trip where the only thing uglier than the van is the beauty pageant they’re trying to reach and somehow, that’s what makes it beautiful.

This film may look like a chaotic road trip in a rusty yellow van, but really it’s juggling some surprisingly heavy themes: depression, self-acceptance, the absurdity of beauty standards, family dysfunction (or “unity,” depending on your definition), perseverance, and good old-fashioned resilience. Basically, it’s a masterclass in turning life’s disasters into a punchline. Each character waddles into the story carrying their own little life lesson like a party favor, and somehow, it all works.

Besides Olive, because, let’s be real, Abigail Breslin absolutely crushed it at an age when most of us were still trying to spell “Mississippi”, my favorite character is Frank, played by Steve Carell. His whole deal is depression, and he portrays it in such a quiet, non-stereotypical way that it sneaks up on you. He’s not the cliché “sad person in bed with tissues and ice cream.” Instead, he’s a guy who is clearly hurting but still shows up, cracks sarcastic jokes, and even roasts himself about his own misery. That’s what made him so real for me. Depression doesn’t always wear a name tag that says Hi, I’m Depression. Sometimes it looks like someone who’s functioning, laughing, teaching, or, in Frank’s case, trying to rebuild after a pretty brutal attempt to check out early.

And then there’s Olive. Oh, Olive. If confidence were currency, this kid would be a billionaire. Watching her reminded me that beauty has zero to do with size, makeup, or sequins, and everything to do with being unapologetically yourself. She’s this tiny powerhouse who doesn’t care how ridiculous she looks, she just goes for it. Honestly, she made me want to stop editing myself to fit into what society says is “acceptable” and instead treat my quirks as my superpowers. Olive also embodies persistence. No matter how many curveballs get hurled at her or how many adults roll their eyes at her dreams, she just keeps dancing (literally). And that, to me, is the real glow-up: never giving up on what makes your weird little heart happy.

That said, I’ve got to hand it to the screenwriter. The man  absolutely nailed it. The way each character’s arc was crafted was impeccable. The blend of comedy, drama, and straight-up tragedy hit me right in the feels. And don’t even get me started on the soundtrack. Devotchka? Pure magic. It’s got this bittersweet, slightly melancholy vibe, but also whispers in your ear, “Hey, you got this, keep going.” To this day, whenever I need a little inspiration (or just want to feel like the main character of my own indie film), I put it on repeat.

So, yeah. Five out of five stars, no hesitation. I’d recommend this movie to anyone going through a rough patch or to anyone who just appreciates a good laugh with a side of dark, sarcastic humor. Because sometimes the best medicine isn’t chicken soup, it’s a perfectly timed awkward joke followed by an existential crisis.