The Problem of Mayor McCheese

So we finally caught Little Miss Sunshine last night. I did enjoy it and I see why so many people have reacted so warmly to it. Great performances, intelligent writing that sticks to its theme, and most important, something new to say about effort, winning, and losing. (Also, an indie-tastic soundtrack featuring music by DeVotchKa and a well-placed instrumental lifted from "Chicago" by Sufjan Stevens.)

I only have one chief complaint about this movie really and it's more like a small piece of a good meal that sticks between your teeth afterward that you can't get loose.

Frank, played by Steve Carrell, has come to stay with his sister (Toni Collette) and her family, after a failed suicide attempt. Frank is the preeminent scholar on the French intellectual and novelist, Marcel Proust. His sister's family lives in Albuquerque and appears to suffer from middle-class mediocrity. How do we know this? The demonization, as it were, is in the details.

The set is all wood-panel and clutter. I'm fine with that. A house with a couple kids, harried parents, and a slightly over-the-top drug-using grandfather shouldn't look immaculate. But there's a moment when Frank sits down to a dinner of take-out chicken and a hastily tossed salad when he examines the glass that will be filled from a two-liter of diet Sprite.

The glass is one of those collector's edition glasses from McDonald's, the type that haven't been used in promotions for decades. The glass bears the image of Mayor McCheese. And the focus on it, from Frank's POV, immediately got stuck in my teeth. It's a knowing nod to the audience, an elbow in the ribs at the expense of the people we're being asked to spend the next 90 minutes caring for.

It's a tough line to walk. How do you create a sense of realism, a sense of the class standing of your characters without appearing to condescend? Maybe I'm reading too much into a glass, but to me that felt over the line from realism and into kitsch.

What about the rest of you? Have you seen the movie? Were you bothered by the glass? I've been trying to think of other examples of this kind of condescension in representation.

Comments

[EEK]

Hmm ... I definitely noticed the glass, and I guess that I read into it as being more of a technique utilized by the filmmakers to put Frank's character into context early on (before we knew that he was a successful academic). Having at one time been the preeminent Proust scholar would likely lend itself to some feelings of pretension. I thought too, that maybe his character strived to escape from what he would consider to be a ‘gauche/lower class’ lifestyle, and is accordingly sensitive about returning to the lifestyle that he rejected.

On a side note, I think it’s interesting that his character is the only one that’s achieved success. After which he self-destructed. If I honestly think about it, the overall message of the movie seems overwhelmingly cynical. Though, I guess the fact that the characters keep doggedly moving forward implies a certain level of optimism.

From a purely entertainment perspective, I loved the soundtrack and found myself laughing really hard, really often throughout.

[TJ]

You bring up a good point, EEK. The shot is from Frank's POV and it's more likely that we should read the shot as Frank's disdain rather than the filmmakers'. That same reconciliation Frank attempts when looking at the glass would be consistent with the couple other mentions he makes about his former life (when pushing the VW bus, for one).

I hadn't thought about Frank being the only one who's achieved success. So, we should be optimistic despite the sure chance of failure?

[EEK]

Yeah. I don't know if there's supposed to be an implied meaning behind Frank's success then subsequent failure, but I'd be interested to find out. Maybe the film makers are trying to make a statement about how society measures success (and accordingly happiness) -- through the appearance of accomplishment rather than the overall effort/journey? Okay. Now I'm just making stuff up. I wish I'd taken a film class in college.

[TJ]

Sounds like you don't need a class. I found a terrific recap of a round-table discussion among a couple bloggers and the husband-wife directing duo behind the film here.

A relevant bit:

"'This is a film that compares two value systems,' [co-director Jonathan Dayton] added. 'Looking at life as a contest versus looking at life as a dance.' (T)he Hoovers' adventures teach them to see life more as a dance, where they can find joy, and prevent others from judging them by not subjecting themselves to judgment."

[Brendan Wolfe]

That's a nice way of putting it, if a little reductive. I want to respond to this, from EEK: "If I honestly think about it, the overall message of the movie seems overwhelmingly cynical."

And by respond I mean simply to assert the opposite. It's one of the least cynical movies I've ever watched. This is a movie that searches for and finds the best in its characters.

[TJ]

That cynicism is there, though, if a viewer looks down his or her nose at the Hoovers. I did, at first. But what I'm discovering now is that it was my own insecurities and judgments projected.

This was my problem with Mayor McCheese, why I felt a film just barely off the ground thud in that one moment. But if I let myself stop thinking what an ass Richard is b/c of the crap he goes through despite his admirable efforts, or if I see the joy that Olive gets from participating in a truly awful pageant, then I can see that these people have discovered meaning and comfort in effort--regardless of outcome--and in family.

[Brendan Wolfe]

Okay. But so what if some viewers looked down at the Hoovers? That hardly makes it a cynical movie. The filmmakers can't be blamed for the insecurities and judgments that we viewers haul into the theater with us.

In fact, our looking down on them is the whole point. It sets up the movie's payoff.

In that dinner scene, two characters--not just the Proust scholar, but the son, as well--are looking down on the family. The filmmakers allow us to sympathize with them--there's little to like in the son's misanthropic silence, yet I still sympathized with him--allows us to snicker at the dad's self-help bullshit, etc. But the entire film is about how this is the wrong attitude to take entirely, that in fact we make a huge mistake looking down on these people.

Not because they'll succeed in objective terms. Olive is kicked out of the pageant for sucking so bad. The dad will never sell a book in his life.

They succeed in being a family and in caring for each other. That's sappy as hell. It is not, however, cynical.

[EEK]

I agree with you, Brendan, about the cynicism thing. The message of the movie is positive. I think that part of the reason I find it easy to see cynicism is that we've all been brought up to believe that anything can be accomplished with enough effort (at least that's what my parents said). To me, it seems like one of the central themes of the film is about accepting your limitations, and either finding a way to work around them or learning to be satisfied despite them.

[Brendan Wolfe]

I agree with that entirely; I just don't think (and I guess now you don't either) that's cynical. People are always spouting off way-too-easy truths (truths that, frankly, aren't true), such as, "There's a reason for everything." Or, "You can do anything if you put a mind to it."

Well, actually, 1) no, there isn't, and 2) no, you can't.

It's unbelievably refreshing to watch a film that admits that without being cynical or nasty but just the opposite.

[Tara]

On the glass - most poor people (myself included) use recycled jars as glasses. It's just not quite as kitschy or cute/pop culture-y. (don't worry, it's a word in my head) Even though the Mayor McCheese glass is a little ovious, I think it still makes it's point and most importantly, Frank's point.

My parantheses and I will be leaving now...