I have to start with a brief sketch of Muzafer Sheriff's Robber's Cave Experiment, a classic in sociology. Boys were randomly picked up and put into one of two groups in an Oklahoma park. Each group didn't know the other existed, so strong bonds were developed within each group, who named themselves "The Eagles" and "The Rattlers." In the second phase of the study, the groups were brought together for the first time in competitive situations like football games. They began to hate each other. Names like "sissies" were thrown back and forth. It was us against them.
Phase three brought the Eagles and Rattlers together in shared activities, like bean hunts and watching movies. They still insulted each other. It made no difference.
In the last phase, they were faced with a common problem -- the water line to the camp needed fixing, or a trucks was stuck in a rut and needed all the boys to pull it out. Bingo! Faced with a superordinate goal, a common enemy that threatened the welfare of both groups, their mutual hatred disappeared, although the strongest bonds remained within each group. That was the kind of situation that President Reagan was thinking of when he wondered what would happen if the earth were threatened by an invasion of UFOs. It would unite all adversaries, wouldn't it?
John Sayles, who wrote and directed "Sunshine State", has shown us how this dynamic works in his earlier movie, "Matewan." He does it here too. A great big development corporation, like Marriott or something, has plans to take over a sleepy village on Florida's Gulf Coast. Their aim, as one agent puts it, is "to take everything that isn't flat and flatten it." They'll turn much of the land into a huge golf course. They'll dig a deep lake for drainage and use the dirt for a hill on which a mansion will be built.
The plans fall through, not just because of community protests by both blacks and whites, but because an ancient Indian burial ground is discovered on the site. Granted, that sacred burial ground is a deus ex machina, but Sayles seems to realize that a bunch of poor people, however incensed, however loud and passionate, are not going to stop the Devourment Land Development and Exploitation Corporation from building a damned golf course!
That's the main narrative thread, but it's often buried along the way by the romances, family conflicts, and intrigues within the population. And these are intelligently presented, surprisingly so. The local black doctor, a kindly man, is told by a visitor that racial segregation is a thing of the past, but the doc observes that, yes, it is, but in the old days if you wanted the best ribs, if you wanted a taxi to the airport, if you needed somebody to mow your lawn by hand, you could depend on blacks. What do they have now? McDonalds and gas-powered mowers that a child could use. Black people had a secure place and they've lost it.
Some of the best lines are given to Alan King as the head honcho of the Agony Mansion-Builders and Habitat Destruction Megacorporation. The recent attempt to flatten the village may have failed but people must have visions because they'd be lost without them, even if the visions have no foundation in fact. He ponders mining the moon for treasure. It has "poetry." He arrogantly dreams of exploiting the stars. It's an appealing line but St. Augustine had a better one: "You plan a tower that will pierce the clouds? Lay first the foundation of humility."
The problem is that the movie gets bogged down in those family conflicts, which have a frothy quality. Somebody once stole somebody else's man or girl friend. Somebody was once shipped out of town for being pregnant at fifteen. It makes the film slightly torpid.
I was all with the villagers though, hopeless as their situation might be. There was a point near where I lived in North Carolina called "Monkey Junction." Four or five dirt roads crossed there and the only building was a gas station whose owner kept a monkey in a cage outdoors for visitors to play with. The name is still Monkey Junction but it's lost its significance. Where the now-paved roads meet, there is a stupendous shopping center, glittering with lights and noise. A nearby Civil War battlefield was plowed over to make room for a housing development. The improvement, to the extent that it exists at all, seems slight.
Phase three brought the Eagles and Rattlers together in shared activities, like bean hunts and watching movies. They still insulted each other. It made no difference.
In the last phase, they were faced with a common problem -- the water line to the camp needed fixing, or a trucks was stuck in a rut and needed all the boys to pull it out. Bingo! Faced with a superordinate goal, a common enemy that threatened the welfare of both groups, their mutual hatred disappeared, although the strongest bonds remained within each group. That was the kind of situation that President Reagan was thinking of when he wondered what would happen if the earth were threatened by an invasion of UFOs. It would unite all adversaries, wouldn't it?
John Sayles, who wrote and directed "Sunshine State", has shown us how this dynamic works in his earlier movie, "Matewan." He does it here too. A great big development corporation, like Marriott or something, has plans to take over a sleepy village on Florida's Gulf Coast. Their aim, as one agent puts it, is "to take everything that isn't flat and flatten it." They'll turn much of the land into a huge golf course. They'll dig a deep lake for drainage and use the dirt for a hill on which a mansion will be built.
The plans fall through, not just because of community protests by both blacks and whites, but because an ancient Indian burial ground is discovered on the site. Granted, that sacred burial ground is a deus ex machina, but Sayles seems to realize that a bunch of poor people, however incensed, however loud and passionate, are not going to stop the Devourment Land Development and Exploitation Corporation from building a damned golf course!
That's the main narrative thread, but it's often buried along the way by the romances, family conflicts, and intrigues within the population. And these are intelligently presented, surprisingly so. The local black doctor, a kindly man, is told by a visitor that racial segregation is a thing of the past, but the doc observes that, yes, it is, but in the old days if you wanted the best ribs, if you wanted a taxi to the airport, if you needed somebody to mow your lawn by hand, you could depend on blacks. What do they have now? McDonalds and gas-powered mowers that a child could use. Black people had a secure place and they've lost it.
Some of the best lines are given to Alan King as the head honcho of the Agony Mansion-Builders and Habitat Destruction Megacorporation. The recent attempt to flatten the village may have failed but people must have visions because they'd be lost without them, even if the visions have no foundation in fact. He ponders mining the moon for treasure. It has "poetry." He arrogantly dreams of exploiting the stars. It's an appealing line but St. Augustine had a better one: "You plan a tower that will pierce the clouds? Lay first the foundation of humility."
The problem is that the movie gets bogged down in those family conflicts, which have a frothy quality. Somebody once stole somebody else's man or girl friend. Somebody was once shipped out of town for being pregnant at fifteen. It makes the film slightly torpid.
I was all with the villagers though, hopeless as their situation might be. There was a point near where I lived in North Carolina called "Monkey Junction." Four or five dirt roads crossed there and the only building was a gas station whose owner kept a monkey in a cage outdoors for visitors to play with. The name is still Monkey Junction but it's lost its significance. Where the now-paved roads meet, there is a stupendous shopping center, glittering with lights and noise. A nearby Civil War battlefield was plowed over to make room for a housing development. The improvement, to the extent that it exists at all, seems slight.