Review: The Florida Project (2017)

 The Florida Project (2017)

Rated R for language throughout, disturbing behavior, sexual references and some drug material

Score: 4 out of 5

As a resident of Florida for eight and a half years who has been in both its nicest neighborhoods and, more importantly for the purposes of this review, its worst, I can say that The Florida Project, a ghetto version of Stand By Me set in the slums of Kissimmee, Florida outside of Walt Disney World, is a film that hit remarkably close to home, not least of all because I recognized more than a few of the kinds of pieces of work who make up its supporting cast. It is, at times, a very grim film, one that no parent should mistakenly screen for their kids just because they see the little girl, the rainbow, and the pink motel on the poster. Rather, it's an exploration of urban/suburban poverty that pulls no punches; what it lacks in a real plot outside of a series of loosely-connected vignettes, it makes up for in how it ties them together through the atmosphere of suburban decay that, from my experience, drips over so much of the Sunshine State outside the tourist areas and at times had me cringing at how true-to-life it was. At the same time, however, it's not here to simply mock or gawk at its characters, even the truly despicable ones. It is a deeply poignant and downright human film, a kitchen-sink coming-of-age social drama about somebody whose circumstances doomed her from the start and is, for now at least, thankfully too young to realize how bad she has it -- but life will catch up with her eventually. It's not a feel-good movie, with even its more hopeful moments carrying ominous implications, but it's still one that I found to be intensely rewarding.

Our main character is six-year-old Moonee, a girl whose young, single mother Halley quite obviously had her when she was a teenager. "Raised" by her grossly irresponsible mother, who lives in a welfare motel, can't hold down a job, and is more interested in partying than paying the rent, Moonee is essentially free-range, spending her time hanging out with the other poor kids living in the Magic Castle Inn & Suites (not to be confused with any of Disney World's fine, all-inclusive resorts, as a Brazilian couple learns the hard way). Moonee, played by Brooklynn Prince, is an immediately captivating presence, one you can't help but feel sorry for when you see how she's living. She may be having fun going on adventures with her friends Scooty and Jancey, exploring abandoned houses and the motel's "employees only" utility room, but it's clear right away that, when she grows up, it won't just be nostalgia talking -- these are the happiest moments of her life, and even now, that life is precarious and tied to the lead balloon that is Halley. Played in her film debut by Bria Vinaite, who writer/director Sean Baker cast after stumbling upon her Instagram, Halley is somebody who, if I showed this film to my brother, would find herself on the receiving end of every nasty insult he can cook up. Baker managed to find a way to craft a character who I ought to have despised: an aggressively trashy sack of shit who lies, cheats, and steals her way through life, has no idea how to plan for the future, and has played no small role in the problems she and her daughter now face. And yet, the film still made her a compelling presence, largely by giving layers to her awfulness that revealed somebody struggling to survive and not get thrown out on the street by Bobby, the motel's manager (played by Willem Dafoe in a small but memorable role) who serves as the voice of reason trying to keep the Magic Castle under some measure of control no matter how much of a dick he might come across as. Whatever bad choices got Halley into the mess she's currently in, she's now trapped, and turns to increasingly desperate measures to make ends meet and provide for her daughter.

The film's depiction of Central Florida is one that is as far away from tourist ads as you can think of, but one that, if you've ever so much as been on vacation in Orlando, you have likely encountered. The film takes place entirely along a stretch of highway covered in tacky strip malls, restaurants, cheap hotels like the Magic Castle, and tourist traps selling knockoff Disney merchandise. Save for that last bit about the Disney merch, it's a Florida that I've seen and been through countless times throughout the state, from Melbourne to Fort Lauderdale to Fort Myers. The wealth and sanitized images of the nearby mega-resorts and gated communities are beautifully juxtaposed with the protagonists' lives on the edge of destitution, with perhaps nothing driving it home better than the fact that the Magic Castle is located right next to a private heliport that Halley teaches Moonee how to flip off. Even through the eyes of Moonee and her friends, we see just how trashy this place is, from when an obvious pedophile attempts to creep on the kids at the motel (leading to one of Bobby's best scenes) to when a middle-aged woman attempts to sunbathe topless despite all of Bobby's efforts to stop her to the constant drumbeat of trap music on Halley's radio, all close enough to Disney World that everybody can easily watch the fireworks shows at night. The film felt raw and gritty without feeling needlessly grim, no matter how much its subject matter may have allowed it to easily slide into such.

If I had one real problem with the film, it's that Moonee's friends aren't really all that fleshed out. While Moonee does feel like a real character, Scooty and Jancey felt fairly one-dimensional, such that the final scene can ring somewhat hollow even if it was still an effective ending. It is overwhelmingly Halley who drives the film's plot, with Moonee mostly pulled along for her ride, even if it felt that Moonee was meant to be the protagonist. A subplot involving Moonee and her friends accidentally burning down an abandoned condo feels like it should have mattered more, especially given how Scooty's mother Ashley reacts and how that impacts her friendship with Halley, but while it does serve as a signpost on the road of Halley's downward spiral, it doesn't feel like it really affects how her story ends, which comes down to something else entirely. The film's lack of a cohesive narrative ultimately held it back from going over the top into true greatness, as while there are several dramatic through-lines that it does get me deeply invested in, they ultimately don't quite come together at the end.

The Bottom Line

The Florida Project is a beautiful and tragic slice-of-life drama that could've stood to have a bit more glue and tendons holding it together at the end, but otherwise mostly sticks the landing thanks to how its good parts absolutely soar and create its vivid, realistic world. Check it out, but bring a box of tissues and a strong tolerance for assholes.