Sean Baker's The Florida Project Movie Review: A Fairy Tale Set in Poverty

In fairy tales, every child is a prince or princess who eventually gets a happy ever after. But what if the princess's parents aren't queens or kings? What if this princess grew up within the world of what Florida Project's director, Sean Baker, calls the hidden homeless?

Cinema about the marginalized pockets of the world is becoming more common, but back when The Florida Project first came out, what director Sean Baker was doing was quite new. His people of interest this time are the hidden houseless, guests but never permanent residents of the lilac-coated Magic Inn and Suites motor hotel. Even when such films come to be, they normally focus on the pain and sorrow of the community’s lot in life, rather than joy.

Not so with the Florida Project, with a first half that acts as a slice of life story as adorable, mischievous kids experience one heck of a summer. Their unspoken leader is Moonee (Brooklyn Prince), a precocious brunette with a thousand schemes and a luminous smile. From her innocent childlike perspective, she lives in a place just as magical as Disney World, located within walking distance from her front door. 

Moonnee spends much of the movie running around the inn and its neighboring properties -- other inns, the local ice cream parlor, abandoned condos -- causing havoc and having a blast, collecting friends like she's the Pied Piper of Hamlin. Her penchant for causing trouble and not taking responsibility makes perfect sense once you meet her mother, Halley (Bria Vinaite), who lives paycheck to paycheck living off welfare checks and conning her way into just one more meal that will feed her precious family of two.

On first watch, this all just seems like a shocking episode of Jerry Springer – a car crash we love to stare at and feel glad it’s not us. But on multiple viewings, things begin to look much different. We understand that Moonnee is allowed to feel innocent, guiltless, and free because of the two adults in her life: her mother Halley, whose parenting has inoculated her from understanding how many ugly sacrifices she has made, and Bobby, the landlord and caretaker of The Magic Inn and Suites, who tries his best to keep the wolves outside the gates. 

Caretaker Bobby serves as sage, prophet, protector, and King. While not quite a god figure, he’s a model of an empathetic but tough human being. He’s stern and insistent on the rules, but he indulges the sheep in his keep. His kindness even extends to the ibises who wander onto the property: “There’s cars coming through here.” Bobby is a rare light in this difficult world, smoking cigarettes as he looks over his domain.  

The Florida Project reminds us to look a little closer at people we dismiss. To the system, the residents of Magic Inn and Suites might be seen as the dregs of society – just taking up space. Yet there’s beauty to be found there; Halley, playing in the rain with her daughter; Moonnee taking Jancey on a safari; Bobby, fiercely protecting the kids from a predator like a roaring lion; fireworks on a hot summer night, and a lone cigarette, shining like a beacon against the twilight.