SUNSHINE STATE (John Sayles, 2002) R

Reviewed: July 15, 2002 - July 16, 2002

The comparisons between Sunshine State to typical Altman are inevitable: each feature a large ensemble cast, no discernible plot, a strong sense of locale (during a period of transition) and camera zooms from characters in the foreground to other characters in the background.

But the critical difference between Altman and John Sayles is Sayles is a writer (yes, Altman's cowritten some of his films but I don't think anyone, including Altman himself, would argue he isn't a director first and foremost). Sayles mostly writes alone, and while he has written films based on novels, most of them--like Sunshine State--are originals. Both Altman and Sayles are prolific, but Sayles can't churn out a film every year because he is too busy writing films he isn't even planning to direct himself.

Perhaps what this chasm between the two men leads to is Altman often makes edgier, more pointed, powerful films, but Sayles' work is warmer, more quietly observed, a little more down to Earth. I don't write this with a positive or negative connotation (although personally, I prefer Altman and I think realism in cinema is overrated -- another argument for another time). Altman's cynicism is frequently noted. It could be said Sayles is gentler I suppose.

Regardless, what's important is that most every die hard Sayles and/or Altman fan will love Sunshine State, and that it's the Altman film people had (before Gosford Park) been wishing he'd made since 1991's Short Cuts (instead of his string of sub-par/sub-great work Ready to Wear, Kansas City, The Gingerbread Man, Cookie's Fortune and Dr. T & the Women).

However: writing about Sunshine State puts me in a difficult position. Put simply--being both a Sayles and Altman fan--I liked the film a lot. And usually when I like a film, regardless of genre or style or whatever the fuck else, I champion it. I recommend it unconditionally to whomever. I hate the saying "Oh well, it's not for all tastes..." because I feel like a great film is a great film and people should be open and inviting and expose themselves to new (filmic) experiences whenever possible.

Except now.

I'd be a fool if I unilaterally recommended Sunshine State without strong words of caution. While I admired the film and was personally immersed from beginning to end, it is slow (at two hours twenty-one minutes), haphazard and unfocused (yet ultimately rewarding). It features a slew of gorgeous performances, some of the best dialogue this year and tangents that are, in and of themselves, very satisfying. Again, most film buffs are in for a treat.

However redux-- (and I say this with a heavy heart, but the truth is unavoidable): most (read: the "average") American moviegoers simply don't have the patience for Sunshine State. It would test their tolerance, and primarily come back with a big fat F. The common reason given for going to the movies is to be "entertained" (I too subscribe to this thought--but I feel a movie can be depressing as shit, yet if it's moving and insightful all roads still eventually lead to entertainment, if a broad definition of the word). To most, Sunshine State will be marginally entertaining for a bit, then--as the movie takes its sweet time going essentially nowhere--frustrating. Sunshine State is not really heavy, but it's also not escapist fun, and if someone only manages to get out to the movies once a month (to escape their mortgage and kids and job and problems), this is not the movie I'd recommend.

It sounds like I'm pandering. Wait, let me qualify. A movie can be dark and odd and dangerous and emotional and piercing and challenging and still help people escape and be entertained. But the flick needs to have a destination. It needs to have sequences that make you sit up a little straighter and stop making out in the back row. Sunshine State arguably has neither.

What Sunshine State does finally provide is the feeling you've been floating over a whole bunch of acquaintances--some only casual, some whom you've known for many years--all a part of your life. Floating over and watching without consequence, your bird's eye view penetrating roofs and ceilings and social stratospheres. They are your neighbors and your favorite waitress and the uncle you only see on holidays. They are your sad, lonely aunt and the kind, elderly widow whom you see crying at Church every Sunday. They're real, not Hollywood archetypes. (Though btw those aren't actually characters in Sunshine State.)

I have an overwhelming urge to write the rest of this review as a series of high-school yearbook superlatives. Such a technique seems appropriate for a sprawling film with so many divergent characters and storylines. Let's see if this works...

But first-- How I would describe Sunshine State in three sentences:
"A small, old community in Florida is being overrun with developers. They wanna create a tourist trap replete with high-rise beach resorts. Pic follows a wide variety of citizens as they live in and sometimes directly deal with this state of flux."

Back to the superlatives--

Favorite performance: Edie Falco's work as a divorced motel owner, bored, struggling to stay afloat.

Favorite voice: Miguel Ferrer.

Best use of an NYPD Blue alumni: James McDaniel as a sweet anesthesiologist.

Worst use of an NYPD Blue alumni: Gordon Clapp as a suicidal crook (though not Gordon's fault, he's a great actor but Sayles ignores him).

Most commanding performance: Bill Cobbs brief turn as man determined to preserve history.

Most intriguing character: Timothy Hutton's Jack Meadows, a freelance landscape architect.

Most compelling storyline: Edie Falco and Ralph Waite's father/daughter motel dealings + Edie Falco's romantic liaisons.

Most pointless, dead-end, totally underdeveloped storyline: Gordon Clapp as a suicidal county bigwig (I think), involved in some kind of robbery, fraud or extortion nonsense (I think), then in cahoots with Miguel Ferrer's developer (I think).

Talent most wasted: Mary Steenburgen as Gordon Clapp's neglected wife.

Storyline most in danger of being contrived, but ultimately saved by wonderfully nuanced acting and Sayles' penchant for anchoring tenuous story with robust characterization: Angela Bassett and Mary Alice's mother/daughter/expulsion/return/failure/embarrassment stuff.

So there you have it.

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