The Florida Project: The Broken Magic Castle Under the Lens of Reality

Describing "The Florida Project" seems to be quite a challenging task. It constantly reminds me of the masterpiece "George Washington" from the beginning of the 21st century, as they both seem to be works about children; not about conventional plots, but about feelings, innocence, memories, and regrets. They both present an unforgettable and meaningful summer, despite its unpleasant aspects.

It also brings to mind one of the best films from the previous year, "Moonlight." Produced by A24 like both of these films, they may not seem similar at first glance, except for the humid Florida setting. However, they share the power to make audiences focus on groups they wouldn't usually pay attention to and experience the lives of people vastly different from themselves.

Continuation of Sean Baker's Style

Perhaps combining the praises for these two films is the best way to describe "The Florida Project"? In less than 120 minutes, it captivates the audience, evokes laughter, and prompts observers to pay attention to people they usually overlook. When we leave the theater, the characters living in the shattered magical castle depicted by the film in real footage make us reconsider how we categorize and imagine the lives of strangers.

Lavender-colored romantic walls, Florida's iconic blue and white sky, the carefree voices of children—these are the first scenes brought to us by director and screenwriter Sean Baker. These overly romantic, excessively sunny, and excessively innocent images might make the audience think they are watching poorly made advertisements on TV or scenes recorded on the vast billboards along Orlando's highways. However, as the opening of "The Florida Project," these scenes, along with the lively and playful sounds, inject the film with an exciting energy and atmosphere. This excessively beautiful but seemingly unreal imagery also makes the ending of the film sadder and more profound. When the curtains fall, our understanding of the vibrant scene at the beginning of the film is no longer so bright and glamorous, yet it doesn't change the fact that the innocent children representing the future of society still call this place home. Perhaps, this is a societal issue, but it becomes a question for us as viewers contemplate after the film concludes.

In 2015, at the age of forty-three, Sean Baker gained recognition with "Tangerine" at the Sundance Film Festival after quietly creating four feature films (though those who followed his work would argue that the preceding four films were equally brilliant). Using only three iPhone 5s devices, he successfully presented an absurd yet poignant story in "Tangerine," a film with a runtime of less than 90 minutes that made us start paying attention to societal issues and reflecting on how to better accept those different from ourselves. This is the magic of Baker and "Tangerine." Therefore, Baker may be one of the best American filmmakers dedicated to bringing untold stories to the audience gently and objectively.

With a larger budget, Sean Baker embarked on the production of "The Florida Project." Naturally, expectations for him were higher. Finally, he could use better equipment to capture the scenes he wanted and gather more influential actors to increase the film's visibility. Hence, a better film than "Tangerine" was anticipated, and it seemed like a reasonable expectation.

Rich Characterization

For most viewers, what's good about "The Florida Project" is probably beyond dispute. However, as mentioned earlier, articulating its strengths is not an easy task. The story focuses on a budget motel in Orlando, the "Magic Castle." The characters living there include the tough but kind-hearted manager Bobby (played by the handsome and rugged Willem Dafoe), the tattoo-covered single mothers Halley and Ashley, and Gloria, who often sunbathes naked by the pool. These seemingly eccentric characters represent the "invisible wanderers," a term used for marginalized individuals who can only afford to live week by week in low-cost accommodations like the "Magic Castle."

But if 'Florida Paradise' only focuses on these characters who cannot achieve a stable life, we might not say it has made significant progress compared to 'Tangerine,' right? After all, Sean Baker's two works provide discussions about groups of vulnerable people we don't usually pay attention to. It's not to say that the story of 'Tangerine,' which is absurd during the process but touching at the end, is not good enough, but the expectations for Sean Baker after 'Tangerine' have undoubtedly increased. We expect him to take more significant risks with the larger production budget obtained from the adventure of 'Tangerine' and create a more unique film.

Yes, he took greater risks because the characters he created in 'Florida Paradise' go beyond the dull and monotonous descriptions mentioned above. In a sense, the way 'Florida Paradise' captivates us is similar to another excellent film from the previous year, 'Moonlight.' Both films persistently focus on the specificity and uniqueness of their characters rather than generalities.

Is Bobby just a template tough guy with a soft side seen in numerous films? Certainly not. His toughness is not demonstrated through muscular strength but through working alone, rolling up his sleeves to maintain and repair the entire 'Magic Castle.' It's evident in his authentic Florida accent and in his straightforward approach when he confronts a pedophile preying on children. His tenderness is not displayed in the clichéd way of emotionally overcoming challenges but precisely in his helpless eyes in the face of life and death. Willem Dafoe's subtle and poignant facial expression in the final scene, gradually pulling back, can be considered the most emotionally touching part of his performance and even the entire film.

As for Halley and Ashley, the single mother-sister duo, they don't follow the conventional path of overcoming difficulties. On the contrary, their bodies covered in tattoos seem to foreshadow the inevitable continuous troubles for these single mothers. Even for Halley, many viewers share a similar opinion – is she perhaps the most incompetent mother in film history? Is she perhaps a character with no so-called 'redeeming qualities'? However, it is precisely her extreme negativity that makes her love for her daughter appear so pure and genuine, and her relationship with her daughter is so lovely and touching.

The Astonishing Performances of Young Actors in "The Florida Project"

But in this film, Sean Baker took the greatest risk and undoubtedly achieved the most significant highlight—the jaw-dropping performances of a group of young actors. Whether it's the precocious Moonee (played by newcomer Brooklynn Prince, destined to become a Hollywood star), the mischievous yet sometimes clueless Scooty, or Jancey, who is usually bewildered but sacrifices everything to help a friend, they are all so lovable. Even though they engage in pranks that adults might consider deserving punishment, we cannot be angry with them. In the end, they are just children, especially children in extreme circumstances. "The doctor said I have to eat ice cream quickly to cure my asthma!" Faced with such amusing lines, we can only put aside our suspicions and buy them ice cream, right?

The difficulty of life defines the adults in "The Florida Project," while the search for joy in challenging circumstances defines the children. The contrast between adults and children, perfectly injected by Baker into the film, is only a product of society. At the end of the movie, adults seem to choose to shoulder responsibilities like real adults, but it seems too late. The innocent children finally shed tears in the face of a harsh reality they have never experienced, sending out a distress signal to their dear friends. When the adorable Moonee is no longer as clever, no longer trying to use tricks to escape the punishment that reality imposes on her, when she no longer hopes to avoid the punishment and only knows how to say goodbye to her friend in a child's way, the audience left without tears is probably very few. The strong contrast between these characters at the beginning and end of the film makes it easier for us to fall into contemplation as the movie concludes. What kind of society can create such a deformed yet sympathetic group, and what kind of society will make ignorant children consider this "magic castle" their home? This is a question worth pondering.

Reality forces Moonee and Jancey to watch the grand fireworks at Orlando Disney from a distance, and reality also determines that all childhoods have a day to come to an end. Few films can portray such a piercing experience on the screen like "The Florida Project." Whether it's using magically beautiful images to attract our attention or intentionally removing the soundtrack to create an unsettling feeling (along with the noise of the helicopter pad), "The Florida Project" always presents us with a fusion of brilliance and sadness. To accomplish such a challenging task, all the risks Baker took are undoubtedly worthwhile. As we, the audience seeking healing, also feel that this is a ticket-worthy experience, because isn't this the reason we pay attention to movies? Through the works brought to us by creators, we step into the lives of others, experiencing their pain, to the point where we dare not easily pass judgment on anyone in the future because they may be living a life we cannot comprehend. This is the power of cinema.

This is the power of "The Florida Project."