Sunshine Cleaning-Amy Adams, Emily Blount, Alan Arkin



SEE.



I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only unemployed person in the theater thinking, "Crime scene cleanup company! That's not a bad idea. I've seen enough blood and guts on the big screen to be able to hack it in real life. Where can I get used van with a CB in it and a Hazmat suit?" Sign me up. You know, I liked this movie, but a friend of mine found the script lacking. That's what we say when we can't pinpoint exactly what it is that prevents our hearts from skipping. What's not to love, you say? The poignant story of a single mom with a "lost-her-way" sister, a "can't-deliver-the-goods" father, a slightly unusually child, a deep hole where her mom-who-committed-suicide used to be, a not-so-good-for-her soul relationship with a married man and an elusive dream about acquiring a real estate license. Sure seems like it has all the fixings of a successful little indie film. What it lacks is heart.




Heart? There's no room in movies for that. That's something better left for touching Hallmark Channel movies. Look. Sunshine Cleaners makes all the right moves on paper. I liked watching it. In the end, as is often my problem, I was not connected enough with the characters to really care. I like all the actors. Liking actors just isn't enough. I need my movie moment. You know the one. For example, the tensely dramatic moment that sheds light on how the family lost it's way after Mom committed suicide. Or, the moment where little miss can't-do-anything-right, tosses her big sister's single motherhood in her face (an oddly lacking point in this movie.) That moment when our perpetual Grandpa of the crazy ideas almost kills his grandkid by having him eat bad shrimp. Or...I could go on. I'm talking about generating a connection with the characters-whether it's liking them or hating them or identifying completely with their predicament. It's why we go to the movies. Connection and catharsis.


If we, the audience, don't get to release our own life angst at some point during the movie, well then, we're gonna unleash on the film itself. Spoiler alert. I'm all for owning your own business. Yippee for her. Who cares about the real estate license? You've found your calling cleaning up blood and body remains. You help people. Except we really only see you help one person and really, you weren't all that helpful. (Oh, unless we count your sister telling a woman that her mother is dead. Her mother whom she hadn't had contact with because mom was a lousy drunk. Oops. Nice helping hand there.) I hate the typical movie moments as much as the next guy but there's a reason they sometimes work. They help us get to the resolution. I never saw the moment when (Amy Adams) realizes that this business is more than a way to make more money. I know where it should have been, but it really wasn't there. You know why? 'Cause everybody in this movie is pretty nice (with the exception of the wife who's being cheated on.) There's really no one to hate. So there's no one to tell off. No one to tell off, no clear cut moving forward moment for our main character. Even breaking up with her married boyfriend is quiet and uneventful . How is that possible?




Why do we need the big movie moments? So we know we're alive. If you were faced with the absolute disintegration of the one thing your good at because of something your sister did and your father gave up the last home he knew (the place where his wife/your mother killed herself) so you could get back on your feet, well.... I think that deserves some big movie moment music accompanied by some acknowledgement on Dad's part about how this could begin to make up for his failures. Oh, and also, some acknowledgement of the fact that you have freakin' Alan Arkin playing the dad, and you should give him something to play for cryin' out loud! So many places where I needed to shed my angst and I was left holding...my angst. That's no way to make an indie movie. Oh, and by the way, where is little sis going at the end of the movie? I know, I know. Too pat. Too neatly wrapped that answer. She never expressed any interest in anything. Ever. Other than trying to alert that poor chick hat her mother was dead. This is what I'm talking about. How can I care about her if I don't know what her dreams are? At the end of the movie, I don't care if she's about to drive off a cliff. I know she misses her mom. I don't know how that motivates her to leave town exactly. If we don't know, we can't fell happy or sad for her. All we can do is wonder how she's gonna pay to gas up that giant Cadillac on this little road trip.



EAT.



Shrimp. I could explain, but all I'll say is, "Don't buy raw shrimp from a street vendor, and in the name of all that's holy, don't store it in your bathtub."



SHOP.




Industrial strength cleaning supplies. Well, if you're gonna get squeaky clean, you might as well be green about it so mop up the offerings of http://www.all-greenjanitorialproducts.com/. And, no, you're not gonna start up your own crime scene cleanup unit. That requires OSHA certification and EPA training. Might as well let the professionals do it. Oh, alright, if you insist. Just remember, this ain't CSI They'll already be gone. Get your online blood and gore training at http://www.cts-decon-training-academy.com/. Don't forget the gloves.