Little Miss Sunshine

Anyone who follows my posts knows how much I love movies, Netflix series, HBO, and so forth.

I often think how remarkable these films are in reflecting so clearly our world, our society, and our own lives. The lessons they offer can be transformative.

In the 2006 movie, “Little Miss Sunshine,” we meet Olive (Abigail Breslin), a precocious and darling 7 year old who dreams of winning a beauty pageant.

She is not the beauty queen type though. For one thing she is too smart. She also wears big clunky glasses. And she has a round little tummy and an awkward run.

But no child could be more sweet, or more lovable.

She belongs to the Hoover family, a cross between the Beverly Hillbillies and the McCallister family in “Home Alone.”

Dad (Greg Kinnear) is a struggling, uptight, luckless motivational speaker. Mom (Toni Collette) is a protective, cigarette smoking nurturer. Brother Dwayne (Paul Dano) is a cynical nerd obsessed with Nietzsche and becoming a test pilot for the U.S. Air Force. Uncle Frank (Steve Carell) is a depressed professor who botched his suicide and is now staying with the Hoovers. And Grandpa (Alan Arkin) has also come to live with the family after being kicked out of a nursing home for questionable behavior and taking cocaine.

The film is a reminder to us of the complexities of families, our flaws and goofy antics and, yes, our dysfunctions.

Olive, however, gets word that she has been accepted as a contestant in The Little Miss Sunshine pageant in California. Thrilled, she immediately begins preparations for the event. Grandpa becomes her coach, and in spite of his oddball personality, offers her some of the dearest advice and sweetest encouragement of anyone in the family.

All of them pile into their Volkswagen van and make the long trip to Los Angeles. It has to be one of the most disastrous road trips in the history of car travel. Everything goes wrong. Mechanical problems. Verbal fights. Olive gets left behind after a stop. Dewayne is told by his uncle he can’t be a pilot because he’s color blind. And Dewayne freaks out and emotionally crashes like a downed fighter jet. It’s maddening.

It reminds me so much of our own national family. There is love there, and devotion, but we cannot seem to function together in healthy ways. Our personality defects, our deep inner fears, the suspicion we are not enough in spite of our outward boasts and bluster, prevents us from meaningful cooperation.

Eventually, the Hoovers make it to Los Angeles. Olive participates in the pageant and sees the snobbery of other girls, their controlling mothers, and the ugly underbelly of a shallow event. She does not win. But she and we learn that winning is not what life is about anyway.

On the night before the contest, Olive gets into bed but feels doubtful. Grandpa comes in to tuck her in and wish her well.

As he is leaving, Olive says, “Grandpa?” He turns and says, “What is it?” She says in a quiet voice, “I’m kind of scared about tomorrow.” He says, “Are you kidding? You’re going to blow them out of the water. They’re not going to know what hit ‘em.” He turns to leave and Olive says, “Grandpa, am I pretty?” He goes and sits on her bed. “Olive, you are the most beautiful girl in all the world.” And Olive smiles and says, “Yeah, you’re just saying that.” And Grandpa says, “No, I’m not. I’m madly in love with you. And it’s not because you have brains and personality but because you are beautiful inside and out.” He gets up and Olive, tearing up, says, “Grandpa, I don’t want to be a loser.” He sits back down and says, “You’re not a loser. Where’d you get that idea?” Choking back tears Olive says, “Daddy hates losers.” Grandpa says, “Wait a minute. You know what a loser is? A real loser is someone so afraid of winning, they don't even try. You’re trying. So you’re not a loser, right?” Olive, crying, shakes her head and says, “Right.” Grandpa, touching her face says, “We’re going to have fun tomorrow! Night. I love you!” Taking off her glasses and wiping her eyes she laughs and says, “Yes!”

That is what we so desperately need today. That kind of care for each other. A cosmic love.

Our national family is in a mess. We’re trying to win at something not even worth our efforts. A divisive, superficial game of political hostilities that is useless.

The Hoover family, with all of their personal failings and deficiencies, came together in support of Olive. And though she didn’t win the beauty pageant, she did win the life one. The one where love is the final value that assures us the crazy road trip we are on ends well.

We are Made for Human Connection

There are words from Brandi Carlile’s song, “The Story,” that I might sing, and perhaps you, too. “All of these lines across my face Tell you the story of who I am So many stories of where I've been And how I got to where I am But these stories don't mean anything When you've got no one to tell them to” You don’t have to be single or alone to feel the depth of those words. Someone in a longtime marriage or relationship might feel them, too. The voyage through life takes each one of us through an assortment of experiences. Some of them ennoble us. Some crush us. Some lift us beyond ourselves and carry us into the lives of those who need us. And some carry us to those we need. Some experiences are burdens. Others ease and encourage us. Some leave us baffled and unsure. Some build confidence within us and are so affirming that we grow in substance, in courage, in tenderness, and sympathy. As we age, the lines in our faces can represent the hurts we have not yet resolved. Or t

If I had five minutes to evacuate--what would I take with me?

If I was told there was a bomb in my building and I had five minutes to evacuate my apartment I’d grab a grocery bag and quickly toss these items into it: 1. A photo of my grandparents, Mom and Pop and me, when I was 15 years old. I learned what love is made of from them. I learned what it is to be kissed on and hugged in arms so tender they felt like God’s arms. I discovered self worth from those two angels in human flesh. Of all the people in my life, they were the ones who made me feel I counted. Honestly, whatever capacity I have to love others came from them. 2. A sentimental, dog-eared, stars in the margin copy of Pat Conroy’s, “The Prince of Tides.” It is a book I have read three times and often return to for its wisdom. It is a harsh, profoundly tragic novel, the story of a family so broken and tortured by such flawed and wounded people that it is sometimes difficult to turn the next page. And yet it is the story of such Herculean courage and endurance that you want

Do we need a new country?

Have you seen the elaborate, stylish, opulent television commercial for Cartier? The original commercial seemed to go on forever, a full three minutes. They have shortened it now, but it still drips with ostentatiousness. It is conspicuously pretentious in spite of the beautiful music and the sleek panther and the stunning scenery and the elegant model dressed in a striking red gown. The commercial takes the viewer through an amazing montage of dreamy landscapes and famous cities and spectacular stunts while moving past a giant expensive watch and finally to a glittering diamond bracelet modeled by the woman in red. Each time I see it I keep wondering who the target audience is. It seems to be such an over the top expression of unbridled greed and materialism gone ape. In a time when much of the world is starving and millions are still out of work here at home it seems bizarre that Cartier would spend what has to be millions on a television commercial celebrating 165 years in

The Unclad Soul

Search This Blog