When writer-director Sean Baker fully broke into the cultural consciousness as a filmmaking auteur – that rarest of descriptions in this age of sequels, reboots and recycled intellectual property – with 2024’s Anora, it felt somewhat overdue. Baker’s eighth feature film won the Palme ‘Dor in 2024 and earlier this year dominated the 97th Academy Awards to the tune of five Oscars (Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actress for Mikey Madison, Best Screenplay and Best Editing).
However, one would be on firm footing in making the argument that Anora, while a funny and riveting French farce of a ride, isn’t Baker’s best work. It felt as if the filmmaker, with his humanist flair for earthy, uncannily real portrayals of American life, as exhibited in 2015’s groundbreaking Tangerine (the first feature film of note to be shot on an iPhone), 2017’s The Florida Project and 2021’s Red Rocket, had amassed a momentum and respect whereby industry recognition in the form of its most prestigious awards became an inevitability. Thus, a full seven years before Baker became something of a household name and the toast of movieland ’25, The Florida Project stands, in my opinion, as his Magnum Opus.
Set in Kissimmee, Florida, and titled after the original name given to Walt Disney World during its planning stages, the film follows the everyday fortunes of those residing in budget motels located achingly close – yet oh so far away – to “The Magic Kingdom.” The rundown motels go by almost haplessly optimistic monikers such as The Magic Castle and Futureland, and are painted a gaudy hue of purple and blue respectively. Their proximity to the capitalist dreamscape of Disney World offers, considering the financial struggles of the characters who dwell there, a jarring and poignant juxtaposition.
Seen largely from the perspective of a six year old girl named Moonee (Brooklyn Prince), the other central dichotomy offered up by Baker and co-writer Chris Bergoch is the joyous adventure of childhood versus the harsh realities and responsibilities of adult life. Moonie and her friends mischievously romp around the complex, spit-bombing on parked cars, hustling for free ice cream, exploring the greenery of surrounding areas and, in a pivotal scene later on, creating havoc at an abandoned apartment.
Meanwhile, Moonee’s uncouth and unfiltered young mum Hayley (excellent first timer Bria Vinaite, whom Baker discovered on Instagram) is struggling to pay her weekly rent. She has taken jobs as a waitress and a stripper, the latter of which she lost after refusing sexual acts with the clients. She attempts to sell knocked off perfume to tourists outside expensive hotels, collects free leftover food from friend Ashley who works at a local diner, and will steal and hustle in almost any way that’s required. Though a caring and playful mum, and her devotion to Moonee undeniable, her financial struggles lead to a career choice that rouses the concern of both Ashley and world-weary, down-to-earth motel manager Bobby (a brilliantly grounded Willem Dafoe).
Despite the hassles of running the complex – evicting residents, fixing ice machines and clothes driers, and enforcing the ‘no topless bathing’ rules – Bobby has an obvious foundation for decency and protectiveness, especially toward the children, but will only bend so far to accommodate Hayley’s actions.
Forgoing conventional plotting with something that is more a series of vignettes, Baker’s characteristic slice-of-life realism superbly captures the minutiae of everyday speech and behaviours, and this is taken to another level in his stewarding of the child actors. Prince in particular is so outstandingly naturalistic that it feels like we’ve been dropped into some cinema-verite documentary study. Baker effortlessly captures the humorous linguistic patterns and anarchic attitudes of childhood (“The woman who lives here thinks she’s married to Jesus”, Moonee says at one point), and this anchors the viewer inexorably into the universe of these characters.
Baker’s film is gorgeous to look at. The vibrant, colourful cinematography – the bright colours of the motels, a picture book shot of a sunset, the verdant greens of the countryside – serve to reflect a childlike optimism and wonder of the world. The purity of roaming around with an exuberant Moonee and her friends takes one back to a time when the non-specific art of playing was the whole point. In an early bit of dialogue, a fellow resident responds to Moonee’s statement that she and her friends are “playing”, by asking exactly what it is that they’re playing. A non-comprehending Moonee simply reiterates “we’re playing.” A child’s imagination, rather than the corporatised world of Disney, is perhaps where real magic and wonderment is to be found.
Inevitably, the innocence of childhood will one day meet with something bleaker and more complicated. This is portrayed in the film’s heartrending denouement and, much earlier, Moonee’s nascent understanding of this arrives when, in a subtly powerful moment, her precocious observations of the struggles around her are revealed: “I can always tell when an adult is about to cry.” The Florida Project is a magical, poignant and almost otherworldly in its realistic capture of the unsung and disenfranchised.
The Florida Project is set for release on Limited Edition 4K UHD & Blu-ray on 13th October, via Second Sight Film – for more information, visit The Florida Project Limited Edition 4K UHD & Blu-ray: Pre-order Availa – Second Sight Films
Scott Hammond