Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris released four time academy award-winning Little Miss Sunshine (LMS) 20 years ago this February.
The story follows a seven-year-old girl, Olive Hoover, and her family on their journey to California so Olive can compete in the Little Miss Sunshine pageant. We watch Olive, an unconventional beauty pageant contestant who is sweet, caring, and determined to win, and her dysfunctional family: her father, Richard, a motivational speaker whose sole focus is sharing his nine-step success program with the world; Sheryl, Olive’s unappreciated mother, the backbone that stabilizes the Hoover family’s constant chaos; Olive’s brother, Dwayne, an angsty teenager who has taken a vow of silence until he achieves his dream of becoming a test pilot, who communicates only with a pad of paper and a pen; Grandpa Edwin, who dedicates his time to choreographing Olive’s pageant routine while simultaneously abusing heroin; and lastly, Sheryl’s brother, uncle Frank, who, despite being the number one Proust scholar in the country, attempted suicide and is consequently forced to be under constant supervision at the Hoover household.
Little Miss Sunshine highlights how gender is performed by everyone and is socially learned. Although beauty pageants are frequently critiqued for pressuring young girls to conform to narrow standards of femininity, our day-to-day life consists of the same socialization and toxicity. Through Richard, Sheryl, and Olive, the film shows that femininity and masculinity are socially learned performances that are rehearsed through daily social expectations.
What makes a successful man is the ability and effort he puts into what he does. For women, luck is usually involved in taking that extra step to be considered successful (Haccoun & Stacy, 1980). A successful man is a strong leader, someone fearless, financially stable, and with a high tolerance for stress (Ernst, 2017). Richard Hoover, the husband in LMS even says himself that “[winning isn’t] about luck,/luck is the name losers give to their own failings,” (Dayton & Faris, 2006, 00:16:03). Richard in LMS tries to embody hegemonic masculinity: the prioritization of these traits of an ideal man that keep men successful, and in power (Stoeckle, 2022). Success is more than just an achievement; it is proof of worthiness as a man, and failure threatens a man’s legitimacy.
The film introduces Richard on stage as a motivational speaker, teaching his nine-step program, Refuse to Lose. At the end of his speech, the lights come back on, highlighting the irony of failure as he looks out at the room full of empty chairs, with only 10 people sitting, bored, looking back at him (Dayton & Faris, 2006, 00:02:19). And although his business is failing, he continues putting on this performance of being one of these ‘winners’, because masculinity is all about how you are perceived, and ensuring you appear successful, even if you aren’t. Masculinity isn’t just something you have, it’s something you show and perform for others. Richard’s failure shows that hegemonic masculinity requires constant performance, even when reality contradicts it. He isn’t just embodying hegemonic masculinity, he is desperately trying to secure it. The anxiety he faces with failing as a man reflects what Connell and Messerschmidt (2005) explain as visible mechanisms of hegemony: “some are highly visible, such as the ‘pageantry’ of masculinity in television sports broadcasts as well as the social mechanisms Roberts calls ‘censure’ directed at subordinated groups—ranging from informal name calling by children to the criminalization of homosexual conduct” (p. 834).
Throughout the film, we see Richard’s business, teaching people how to be winners, fail miserably, as his book launch is rejected and he ends up bankrupting his family. But throughout the process, he refuses to admit defeat and maintains his performance as a strong, capable man who will provide for his family. In a culture that correlates masculinity with economic productivity, his financial instability can lead to his emasculation. Even after his publisher rejects his book and tells him no one will trust a loser to teach them how to be a winner, he tells the publisher he’s glad he’s rejecting him: “I’m glad, you know why? Because this is what the nine steps are all about, and you blew it, you’re out,” (Dayton & Faris, 2006, 00:50:31). By refusing to let go of the idea that he is a future success, Richard reveals that his fear isn’t bankruptcy, but the loss of this masculine identity built upon winning.
This scene ties to the idea of gender being a social concept that is learned and performed, as mentioned in Gender a Graphic Guide, “we perform gender in our interactions with others, and are then judged on how well we fit social norms of gender. So gender is a routine accomplishment embedded in everyday interaction,” (Barker & Scheele, 2019), p. 40). Richard keeps up this pageantry to be sure others don’t know he is a fraud, since gender isn’t only expressed, but is constantly evaluated and policed.
A successful woman is a mother, a caretaker. Someone who gives and sacrifices for others. And most importantly, she is a wife and wants what her husband wants for her. Gender operates through normativity, and behaviours that are normalized become naturalized and invisible. Sheryl, the mother in LMS, is the family’s emotional caretaker and overall stabilizer. Conforming to these behaviours leads to gendered stereotypes and the belief that these roles and norms are inherent and inevitable. Sheryl is never praised, appreciated, or thanked, and this shows the invisibility of her care because it is part of her expected role as a mother, wife, and woman in society to maintain her subordination.
We know Sheryl is the sole income earner in the family since she mentions, while arguing with her husband about hotel costs, that it would be easier if she had some help bringing in the money (Dayton & Faris, 2006, 00:18:05). But her career is never mentioned past that point, since her identity outside the family is seen as unimportant. All responsibility is left to her, and more importantly, it is assumed of her. The labour does not need to be requested or appreciated, as it is already socially assigned.
When Dwayne jumps out of the van after learning he is colourblind and cannot pursue his dream of becoming a test pilot, the entire family stands outside the van and watches him break down. Even though Sheryl isn’t aware of the problem or knows how to fix it, Richard looks over at her, signaling for her to go down and talk to the son, and she does (Dayton & Faris, 2006, 00:01:08). This image of being the perfect mom, needing to take care of everyone, is pushed on Sheryl by her family, and such a normalized occurrence that she doesn’t hesitate to take on her role. Even during moments of fear, anger or sadness, the social expectation of a woman is to still do her job and to do it without complaint. While cleaning up after dinner, Richard badgers her about how they will afford to take Olive to her beauty pageant in California and criticizes each solution she suggests, offering no alternative ideas or help: “Well [we’re gonna have to fly], unless you have a better idea,” she then slams a box of popsicles onto the table: “Here. This is dessert,” (Dayton & Faris, 2006, 00:18:39). Even in the midst amid chaos and arguing, Sheryl still manages to perform as she’s expected, providing dinner and dessert for her ungrateful family. Her composure and caregiving, even through chaos and conflict, illustrate how femininity is policed through a woman’s ability to perform as she is expected.
Society sets expectations for women, as we saw with Sheryl, and we see these being instilled in Olive at only eight years old. While sitting in the hospital waiting room, after being told about the death of her father-in-law, Sheryl breaks down in tears. Even though Dwayne is sitting closer to his mom, he writes on his notepad “go hug mom” and hands it to his younger sister Olive (Dayton & Faris, 2006, 00:52:21). Since the mom is in distress, the emotional labour is transferred to Olive, teaching her that caregiving is a female responsibility, and the authority is a man’s. No concern for Olive’s grief, the granddaughter, who spent the most time of anyone with him, and trained for the pageant with him. The only concern is that she follows instructions and that she does what is expected of her in her role as a woman. She, of course, listens and consoles her mom, reinforcing a subtle hierarchy where he dictates her care and where she should direct it.
LMS reproduces gender norms that are present in today’s world, and even makes a mockery of the performativity through Olive’s routine, where she exaggerates the absurd and ridiculous expectations that girls are supposed to learn to be successful. Beauty pageants are often spaces where femininity is performed and where young girls and women are evaluated on appearance, charm, and compliance. But this isn’t much different from our society off stage. As explained by Lisa Wade in The Society Pages, “people often object to this sort of adornment on a child being unnatural, but when adult women use these same strategies — fake eyelashes, makeup, veneers, and hair extensions — it is no more natural. Adult women are no less than those kids, performing femininity”. This culture is shamed for limiting a woman’s self-worth to how well she can perform and please the judges. When in reality, this is a huge aspect of the entirety of society’s expectations for women and how femininity is idealized. Femininity and beauty standards go hand in hand in society. The ideal beautiful woman is modelled after white, thin, able-bodied women. Disabled, fat and BIPOC women are structurally marginalized within these dominant beauty standards, teaching them they “don’t stand a chance” and position them as inferior, as genderless and asexual creatures.
Olive, the Little Miss Sunshine pageant contestant, is displayed as a site of early gender training. The opening scene of the film shows a close-up of Olive, wearing her big circular glasses, as she watches the crowning of the Miss America Pageant, with the TV screen reflection in them. Olive stands less than five feet from the TV, rewinds the tape to see the crowning again, and reenacts the waving style of Miss America (Dayton & Faris, 2006, 00:01:05). Not only is this inspiring for her to watch, it is also practice for her own pageants, so she can see what is expected for the winner of a pageant, and how they should perform. Olive is bigger than most of the girls her age, especially those competing in the pageant. But she doesn’t seem concerned about her weight up until she orders ice cream at a restaurant, and her father tells her that eating ice cream will make her fat: “if you eat a lot of ice cream you might become fat, and if you don’t you’re gonna stay nice and skinny sweetie,” (Dayton & Faris, 2006, 00:27:20). This is a prime example of how parental figures transmit these unhealthy social anxieties about being skinny into young girls’ minds, embedding a new consciousness about how her body looks early. Sheryl, disapproving of the ideas her husband is putting into Olive’s young, influenceable mind, reminds her it’s okay to be fat, and it’s ok to be skinny. Richard quickly fights back, saying: “ok but Olive let me ask you this. Those women in Miss America– are they skinny? Or are they fat?/ I guess they don’t eat a lot of ice cream” (Dayton & Faris, 2006, 00:28:07). Olive’s internalization of his comment is clear when her ice cream then arrives at the table and she doesn’t eat it. She hasn’t even arrived at the pageant, but Olive is already disciplining herself, showing that the real gender training happens in these everyday interactions rather than on the stage.
By exposing these mechanisms of gender training, the film shifts the responsibility away from the pageant industry alone and onto the adults who feed into and normalize these expectations. LMS is rated R and intended for an adult audience. The film is important for parents, educators, and any adults who interact with children, really. Its impact makes us consider how adults socialize children and how subtle expectations go beyond what they are explicitly taught. It’s about what we expect of them, how we let them see us behave and what we normalize. Rather than shaming the beauty pageant industry for harming young girls, we need to take more notice of the things we teach our youth and be aware of the continual impacts that these lessons have. Ultimately, Little Miss Sunshine presents gender roles as a cause of stress for each character, and how they are continually performed and reinforced through everyday interactions. Through Richard, Sheryl, and Olive, LMS shows how both masculinity and femininity are shaped and policed, whether that be on a pageant stage or at the dinner table. The film pushes viewers to look beyond pageant culture and to assess our roles in socializing children, and how we might be pushing gender norms and expectations on young children.
References
Barker, M.-J., & Scheele, J. (2019). Gender: A graphic guide. Icon Books.
Connell, R. W., & Messerschmidt, J. W. (2005). Hegemonic masculinity: Rethinking the concept. Gender & Society, 19(6), 829–859. https://doi.org/10.1177/0891243205278639
Ernst, D. (2017, March 30). What is a successful man? MDI – Mentor Discover Inspire. https://www.mentordiscoverinspire.org/question-of-the-week-what-is-a-successful-man/
Haccoun, D. M., & Stacy, S. (1980). Perceptions of male and female success or failure in relation to spouse encouragement and sex-association of occupation. Sex Roles, 6(6), 803–815. https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/BF00287237#citeas
Berger, R. A., & Bender, J. (Producers), & Dayton, J., & Faris, V. (Directors). (2006). Little Miss Sunshine [Film]. Big Beach Films.
Stoeckle, J. (2022). Hegemonic masculinity. Office of Teaching & Learning. https://operations.du.edu/inclusive-teaching/content/hegemonic-masculinity
Wade, L. (2015, June 5). Child pageants and the performance of gender. The Society Pages. https://thesocietypages.org/socimages/2015/06/05/child-pageants-and-the-performance-of-gender/