It’s often said
that a single performance can make a movie great and, while
Sunshine Cleaning’s lighthearted nature keeps it from
substantial thematic heft, you wouldn’t know it by watching Amy
Adams. Always reliable but often ignored in favor of her
usually-remarkable co-stars—standing out next to Meryl Steep and
Philip Seymour Hoffman in Doubt isn’t easy—this movie
represents Adams’ chance to take to the spotlight. And boy does
she seize the opportunity, turning what could’ve been a cartoon
of a character into a deeply human woman. Adams will make you
laugh and she’ll break your heart as a working-class,
single-mom, part-time maid who opens a crime-scene cleanup
service when her married detective lover (Steve Zahn) tells her
how much extra money she could make by adding biohazards to her
scrubbing repertoire. Sunshine Cleaning could have
easily seemed like a sitcom, but Adams never lets the audience
remember this.
Adams nails
her character, Rose Lorkowski, in part because she realizes
there is a certain element of the aforementioned triviality to
her. Rose is your average blue-collar woman who can’t seem to
get ahead—it’s almost in her nature to make mistakes—which is
certainly a movie caricature. But Adams’ work is brilliant
because she realizes people like this do exist in
real-life and, instead of constantly trying to apologize for
Rose, she humanizes her flaws. Adams does so primarily by
showing Rose’s clear character progression as she becomes
progressively successful in the crime-cleanup biz and, no longer
so consumed by depression and rotten circumstance, begins to see
life more clearly. For instance, Rose’s affair soon no longer
seems so attractive to her because she recognizes its
hopelessness. Adams’ ability to convey this distinctly American
ideal of overcoming circumstance in uncanny, inventive ways—keep
in mind, the movie is part zany comedy—should resonate with
audiences.
It’s a
testament to Adams’ performance that I have gone over 300 words
without mentioning that Sunshine Cleaning is part
buddy-comedy and that the wonderful Emily Blunt is the other
half of the film’s duo, playing Rose’s sister and cleanup
partner Norah. Blunt, like all things in the film separate from
Adams, is funny and spunky but decidedly minor. She provides
strong comedic relief, but it seems that Adams is the only one
who recognizes that the movie needs a strong dramatic core. But
this isn’t really Blunt’s fault; writer/director Christine Jeffs
doesn’t give her much to work with beyond typical (albeit
amusing) misfit comedy. Just when you think the character might
turn into someone deeper when she stalks a woman who responds in
an oddly attracted manner (Mary Lynn Rajskub of TV’s “24”), the
thread fizzles into something ultimately meaningless. Blunt
fills the role with her usual charms and isn’t required to do
much more. The same goes for Alan Arkin, who is essentially
playing the same Grandpa he did in Little Miss Sunshine,
only this time the guy’s a trunk-salesman and the kid he
quackishly mentors is not a child beauty pageant contestant, but
Rose’s misunderstood-at-school son (Jason Spevack).
Sunshine
Cleaning could ultimately be characterized as a missed
opportunity given its surface resemblance to dramedies of proven
depth, such as the aforementioned Little Miss Sunshine.
But it’s so witty and funny and has such an emotional center in
Adams that deeming it a disappointment seems a bit ungrateful.
As far as quirky indies with mainstream-crossover potential go,
Sunshine Cleaning is a perfectly enjoyable entertainment.
-Danny Baldwin,
Bucket Reviews
Review Published
on: 3.19.2009
Screened on:
3.5.2009 at the Landmark La Jolla Village in La Jolla, CA.
Sunshine Cleaning is rated R and runs
102 minutes.
Back to Home
