A bleak work edging towards neo-realism, Sunlight Jr. takes place in a welfare state: a trailer park outside of Tampa. There aren’t full on revaluations about the mistakes each of these characters have made, instead they live life day-to-day. Some critics may consider this “poverty porn,” otherwise known as the uncomfortable look into folks living below the means of the film’s target audience (perhaps liberals in large cities, who enjoy great performances and good filmmaking). The barrier to entry that may face this film is that it’s by no means a feel-good experience, it doesn’t have a Christian message and it’s a bleak matter-of-fact look at how life keeps dealing certain people a crummy hand, relevant in any economy.
Naomi Watts stars as Melissa, a women in her mid 30s who works at Sunlight Jr, a local gas and convenience store that we conceive is part of a smaller regional chain. She lives with Richie (Matt Dillon) a paraplegic in a trailer park full of folks whom may be on meth. Richie’s days are spent drinking at a local pub (who also cashes his social security checks) while Melissa works the day shift. Norman Reedus co-stars as Melissa’s ex-boyfriend, who recently inherited a house that Melissa’s mother (Tess Harper) lives in with her foster children.
The system cannot exist without the managers, from the manager of the trailer park attempting to keep up community standards in a property full of misfits to the manager of Sunlight Jr. who orders Melissa take a drug test after showing signs of morning sickness.
The world of Laurie Collyer is anything but sunny, as this work, along with her feature film debut Sherrybaby, tell the kinds of stories independent film should tell — those that Hollywood aren’t interested in making. Here two brave leads take on this material that is both regional and universal. Drifting into Victor Nunez territory, the threat of violence, even selling one’s body, is present. Harper’s Kathleen advises Melissa that Richie, who may not make a great father has at least “never hit cha’ and never will,” Justin, her abusive ex makes a living selling pills to junkies.
Sunlight Jr. may be too bleak for mainstream audiences, but it’s a bold, fresh and memorable look at just how close some are to the poverty line. Happiness is a modest goal for Melissa and Ritche, one temporarily found at the end of a long day over a Bud Light and Crazy Town’s Butterfly.