I don’t think it would be too far fetched to say that many of us
have a rather rose-tinted memory of our childhoods. Grass seemed greener, the
sky more endless, adults somehow more angelic, the sun always shining. Looking
at the world through innocent eyes was somehow different, yet we also struggle
to pinpoint exactly whereabouts that innocence was lost. I have long had a
fascination with this surreal dimension to the experience of childhood
nostalgia, and I tend to admire artists that are willing to embrace the
subject. One is struck with overwhelming deja-vu when reminded of such a memory
in a random song, old film or revisiting the site of some childhood revelries.
Perhaps this is unique to me, yet I somehow doubt it. With this in mind, films
like The Florida Project, which Sean Baker tells predominantly through the eyes
of a few children, was an experience that completely floored me with its
encapsulation of these ideas, with a story that unfolds organically against the
looming backdrop of a brutally truthful depiction of life on the socio-economic
margins.I came into The Florida Project having avoided watching the trailer or reading anything about it, specifically because I suspected that this may be a very special film and that it was worth saving every surprise. I was not disappointed. The film is principally focused on Halley and her daughter Moonee, who are living in a motel called The Magic Kingdom in Florida, located just outside Walt Disney World. Most of the film plays out from a child’s eye perspective, in most cases Moonee’s, as she explores the surrounding areas with her friends Scooty and Jancey. This is inter-spliced with Halley’s story, as she struggles to pay rent to the motel manager Bobby, played brilliantly by Willem Defoe.
To say the film has a clear narrative or three act structure would be to do it an injustice. Sure, Halley has a ‘story’ if that’s how you want to put it, but to me it felt far more like a fly on the wall examination of the lives of people that are too often shunned by society. I felt like I was getting to know the idiosyncrasies of all of the characters, how Halley was trapped in negative cycles and often acted much like the children in the film, throwing tantrums when she doesn’t get her way or losing her temper at the wrong moments. Yet underlying it all an inexpressible sadness and desperation about her situation and a deep longing for her daughter to be happy. Moonee has more of a traditional character arc, as we see how the behaviour of her mother and the freedom she has been allowed has endowed her with a peculiar maturity and knowledge about the ways of the world. This is seen in the way she talks to adults like Bobby, who she knows how to manipulate. But once again there is a another side to her that is naïve to the darker side of human nature and simply wants to be a kid, which comes out in beautiful moments throughout the film, none more so than the tear-jerking final scene. Bobby might well be the third great character of the film. Again we see him in a number of guises, the responsible motel manager, the fierce protector or father figure, and in the final act, someone deeply moved by the desperation of Halley and Moonee’s situation. I loved these characters because I believed in them and their interactions. This is how humans often talk to each other in the real world, especially when under stress. Relationships are messy and sometimes even violent, and the fleeting moments that really matter often manifest spontaneously in the most unlikely of places.
Baker chose to intertwine the narratives of Halley and Moonee by filming scenes from different perspectives, shooting a scene involving Halley from the child’s height, or a scene where Moonee is clearly wanting attention from the adult’s height. This technique, although far from original, achieves several things. When we are watching Halley argue with Bobby for instance, we see it as if we are in Moonee’s shoes, half-knowing what is going on yet helpless to intervene. Or in the reverse case, from the adult viewpoint we see clearly see how the presence of children changes the impact and tone of what is happening, and thus we empathise with the characters and the tragedy of their predicament.
The scenes involving the children on their own also contain a duality. Baker gives us either wide angled shots of the children adventuring through truly bizarre surroundings, abandoned buildings painted in the most garish colours imaginable, or huge ornate souvenir stores, exaggerating their smallness in a very large world in which all they want to do is play and discover. On the flip side we get more intimate shots and close-ups, where simple facial expressions, body language or quirky remarks are all that’s needed to charm the audience. In adopting such a variety of ways of shooting events, Baker kept me 100% captivated from the first to the last frame in a way that only a handful of other films have. He has mentioned how he was heavily influenced by 1994’s Little Rascals and Hal Roach’s Our Gang, a series of shorts from the 20’s and 30’s. I haven’t seen either of these, but it is clear that Sean has become very proficient in this style of filmmaking by the accuracy in which he captures the emotional rollercoaster of being a kid.
The childhood innocence in the way the film was shot and written takes nothing away from the hardships facing Halley or others around her. Baker made sure that his characters, especially Halley, were by no means entirely sympathetic, and in many cases clearly objectionable. It was this ambiguity in her character that really drew me in to her struggle and allowed me to ponder the reasons why people end up in such dire circumstances. The world of The Florida Project is messy, unpredictable and indicative of deeper problems in society, many personal and many systemic, that are very real, even if many of us don’t want to think about it. Many have argued that the film is a critique of late stage capitalism in which people like Halley are left forgotten in a world of abundance, in this case the abundance being Disney World just around the corner. Although I agree with much of this interpretation, I feel like limiting it to that would detract from the more fundamental human themes that Baker wanted to highlight. Spontaneous moments of joy between mother and daughter, the playfulness of children, the immaturity of adult relationships, protective instincts in desperate moments, the inherent tragedy and beauty of the world. These are the real themes of the movie in my eyes, the social and political critiques being merely secondary and implied. With that being said, it is difficult to detach The Florida Project from the real world simply because it is so true to life. Reading about economic hardships and marginalised communities is one thing, but sometimes it takes a medium like cinema to give a tangibility to such things. I applaud Baker for not shying away from this and giving a nuanced take on it as opposed to a lifeless political commentary.
Despite the urgings of many I am yet to watch Tangerine or any of Baker’s other projects, but I understand him to have a distinct gritty style when it comes to aesthetics. The Florida Project is truly a gorgeous film, but in a far from conventional way. I have never been to Florida, yet by the end of this I felt like I had actually lived there. Baker’s camera inhabits the world so thoroughly that at points it almost felt like a documentary in terms of visual style. I think certain films can go too far in this direction to the point of monotony, but Baker manages to fill every shot with something transfixing or interesting to look at. It reminded me somewhat of American Honey, another small budget film that I think at times DOES feel a little bit crude cinematically. In that film though I saw the germ of something that I knew had great potential to evoke the majesty and freedom of America, and thankfully The Florida Project was the movie I was waiting for. Again the child-eye perspective of a lot of the scenes allows the audience to also see the world almost like a child. Everything seems bigger and more mysterious. The colours pop from the screen in magnificent clarity, the bizarre buildings are a constant source of intrigue. There is a palpable feeling that everything is alive and fighting for survival. You feel the heat of the Floridian summer in the gorgeous orange glow of twilight and the kids adventures into the dream-like greenery surrounding the motel. There is an unpolished feel to everything that Baker chose to include, nothing looks like it has been added or subtracted from a frame in service of cinema, hence the genius of the style is the effortless impact each scene possesses.
The casting decisions behind The Florida Project also bare similarities to American Honey. Halley is played by Bria Vinaite, who Baker remarkably found whilst scrolling through instagram. He has stated that something didn’t sit right with him about casting a well-known actor to play her. In the case of Moonee however he auditioned hundreds of children, finally settling on Brooklyn Prince, a truly genius stroke of casting in my eyes. Both of these performances blew me away, especially 7 year old Brooklyn who I suspect has a very bright future ahead of her. Willem Defoe is the only big star in the film, giving a rather straight but perfectly suited portrayal of Bobby, who in some ways is the anchor that holds certain parts of the story together. This trio, along with an informal supporting cast, all do a stunning job. It is really one of those rare cases where I struggle to find anything or anyone to criticise whatsoever.
The juxtaposition at the core of The Florida Project is one of the most heartbreaking I’ve seen to date. It is a film that cuts against the grain of many trends in modern cinema, substituting hyperbole for honesty, cheap thrills for stark realism and worn-out stereotypes for nuanced characters. Sean Baker resists the urge to preach to the choir and instead allows viewers to come to their own conclusions about the issues facing subsections of the population in America and beyond. Above even this though he has created an experience that is affecting on a multitude of different levels, reminding us that the playful way children see life might contain more wisdom than we first thought, but ultimately that things are often marred in tragedy and confusion. There is a humanism to the film that moved me to tears a number of times for reasons I struggle to put into words. In the end it adds up to one of the best movies I’ve seen in some time. It delivers in nearly every criteria I can think of, and proves just what cinema is capable of when it is at its best. I am looking forward to seeing what the impact of The Florida Project will be on the industry at large and also what Baker decides to do next. One thing is for sure, he’s going to struggle to top this!
Acting: 95
Narrative: 95
Visuals: 100
Music: 90
Overall: 95/100
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