Lemotif of Sean Baker

Childhood is the most important and innocent chapter in each and everyone of our lives. Childhood is where we begin to understand, learn and realize how the world functions. Writer-Director Sean Baker delivers one of the finest films ever on childhood; a childhood in a purple painted, unclean motel in Florida, which, incidentally enough, is close to Disney World. But the trip to Disney World isn't possible for all, The Florida Project is about such kids. Despite knowing there is magic waiting for them, Moonee, Scooty, and Jancy have no option but to create a world of magic without fireworks and princesses. The film is a modern-day masterpiece. Watching The Florida Project for the first time last year, I had no idea what to expect. I couldn't watch the entire film because my heart was breaking for Moonee about ten minutes in. I lasted another half hour and then left the theater in tears. This sort of reaction may be the highest praise one can give to filmmakers. This is the type of film that doesn't often stumbleupon box offices in America. Film Critic Justin Chang quotes “The Florida Project is one of the most thrillingly alive portraits of childhood I’ve ever seen. It’s a neorealist sugar rush of a movie, like a 21st-century American update of Los Olvidados or Bicycle Thieves reimagined in rainbow-sherbet colors and sprinkled with Pop Rocks. The writer-director Sean Baker and his co-writer, Chris Bergoch, shape the stuff of one girl’s turbulent upbringing into a raw, exuberant comedy that darkens almost imperceptibly into tragedy. It packs an emotional wallop like nothing else I’ve seen this year.” I never agreed to a statement more. Warm, winning, and gloriously alive, The Florida Project is a deeply moving and unforgettably poignant look at childhood.

Baker's previous film Tangerine (2015) is another example of showing a side of America that usually doesn't stumble on in cinema. The subject matter of prostitutes, pimps, drugs, sex, homosexuality and gender roles is foreign to most and even repulsive to some. But that's the beauty. It draws you in, you start to care about the characters, and you start to laugh with them. You begin feel their frustration, sadness and even shame. You identify