The Florida Project is a remarkable look at the stark reality of American poverty while successfully evading the trappings of haughtiness.
The “Magic Castle” motel is home to single mother Halley and 6 year old Moonee. Originally intended to host runoff Disney World tourists the motel now serves as a post-2008 de facto housing project for poverty-stricken Floridian families. Moonee (played by the unbelievable Brooklyn Prince) spends her summer days exploring the ruins of late capitalism, scamming soft-serve ice cream cones and hustling off-brand perfume with her struggling mother (played by the brilliant Bria Vinaite).
Contrary to what one might think, Moonee’s destitute childhood is not an unhappy one. She is vibrant, intuitive, even well-adjusted, albeit crass. While Halley struggles to make ends meet doing everything from exotic dancing to the aforementioned perfume hustle, Moonee thrives, forging friendships and enjoying a freedom not afforded to many 6 year olds.
Looming behind the relationship of these incredible co-leads is the kitschy purple monstrosity of a motel they call home. The “Magic Castle” is almost a character in its own right, hosting a variety of down-on-their-luck tenants with motel manager Bobby (Willem Dafoe) at its epicentre. Bobby is the unsung hero of the “Magic Castle” often getting embroiled in the difficult lives of his residents and exhibiting an empathy that goes way beyond his job title. Whether it’s chasing away potential child predators or his superhuman patience with late rent payments, Bobby seems to take special care of Halley and Moonee. Where Bobby is perhaps most sympathetic is in his limitations. Despite his best efforts he is not always able to help and we are privy to his strained compartmentalization. There’s one spectacular example of this where after a particularly difficult situation with Halley, Bobby temporarily steps away to the washing machines and informs an unsuspecting woman that he’s going to “repair that one soon” to an indifferent response.
The Florida Project manages to show the utmost respect to the heroes of the film while offering a scathing critique of the invisible but ever-present enemy: capitalism. The film juxtaposes Disney World, a symbol of American exceptionalism and prosperity, with sad knock off brands and forgotten neighbourhoods. What elevates the film above a mere fetishization of poverty is the child’s perspective. Director Sean Baker literally puts the camera in the line of vision of a child. Rarely is there a moment when the children are being perceived from above. Baker isn’t afraid to embrace the fun and carelessness of youth regardless of circumstance. The audience sees a happy child. What makes the film visceral and complex is the choice to meet the brutal reality of poverty with tenderness and innocence.
