Screenwriter’s Almanac: Little Miss Sunshine, and Why Waiting Isn't Such a Bad Thing

How we wait is personally more important than what we're waiting for.

I love writing these Screenwriter’s Almanac posts, and it seems like you’re enjoying them too. It’s interesting how my Substack as a whole has evolved over the past year. I set out with this grand intention to release at three posts/emails every week: exercises, lessons, scene studies, full show/film reviews. I was gonna go big, baby! I did for a bit, and it was fun, but I quickly realized a couple things. For one, it was a tremendous amount of work. In spite of loving the work, it became a bit of a burden. Two, I think I drenched your inboxes with far too much ‘stuff’. I’d like to think it was too much of a good thing (ha), but the simpler approach was two-fold. Be less forceful with feeling that I need to release so much material, and less can be so much more. A softer approach while delivering quality is the way to go.

I was in a state of “nowness” with my approach. “Get these people what they want right now! Go go go, give give give! Get get get!” Ok, so that’s a tad dramatic, but if you don’t know by now, I can tend to go there sometimes. Nontheless…

That’s where my head is this morning as I write this “little” (yes, pun intended) Substack article. Be softer. Be present. Allow. And when I was brainstorming which film presents this level of meaning and could be a wonderful subject for today’s Almanac, it was a no brainer. Ensemble stories can be so wonderful in so many ways, and for so many reasons. One of the primary reasons ensembles can work so well is because we get to see multiple versions of one theme.

The multiple versions are characters who represent their own personal version of the theme, and I can’t stress how important it is to see not only ensembles in such a way, but life, family, friends, and love in such a way.

We all experience life through our own, unique lens of past experience. But there is also a universality in our experiences. My love may be different than yours, but it’s still love. Your patience and how you navigate life and career may be different than how I navigate it, but we both still understand patience and perseverance.

There is something beautiful there if we can understand the connection through our differences. Our different philosophies on life don’t necessarily separate us as much as the world and society tends to make us think that they do…as long as we can understand we’re all actually the same, even in the smallest of ways.

Seeing similarities instead of differences MIGHT be something our world needs at the moment.

Ensembles allow us to see that, and we got to see such a pretty little example of that in the movie, Little Miss Sunshine.

There’s a moment in Little Miss Sunshine, somewhere between the breakdown on the highway and the broken horn on the van, when you realize this isn’t really a story about winning. It’s about letting go of what you thought you needed in order to be okay. And each character experiences their own version of such a theme little by little.

Everyone in that yellow VW bus is waiting for something:

• Richard (Greg Kinnear) is waiting for his “9 Steps to Success” book deal (and the irony of waiting for his own success without following the steps is hysterical).

• Dwayne is waiting to be old enough to escape his family.

• Frank is waiting to feel like a human again after his fall from academic grace.

• Olive is waiting to compete in a pageant of which she might not even understand the stakes. She is also managing her own self-acceptance, which is rather obviously mirroring what everyone else is attempting to do as well.

And yet, by the time they storm that hotel ballroom and dance like joyful rebels on a tiny stage, they’ve stopped waiting. Not because they’ve gotten what they wanted by that point, but because they’ve decided they don’t need it to live, to connect, or to move forward. They see themselves in Olive, and instead of longing for some future that is still unknown, they embrace the current moment as is…in all of its joy, awkwardness, love, fear, and just basically…fun. Olive’s innocence is what all of the character needed to see and experience in order to stop waiting…and just simply be themselves.

As writers, we wait.

For approval. For permission. For a yes from someone with more power, more reach, more “authority” (which, let’s face it, in this industry means “money”)

But the truth is: no one can give you what you already possess.

You don’t need to be chosen to start writing. You don’t need permission to tell your story. You don’t need validation to love a project that maybe no one else sees yet.

That’s your van; your weird, noisy, broken-down gift filled with people who do actually love you in spite of the differences.

And when you finally decide to get behind the wheel, not because it’s perfect, but because it’s yours, everything changes.

So if you’re waiting for a sign today, let this be it. You’re allowed to love the work that no one else claps for yet.

You’re allowed to write the story that feels a little too personal. You’re allowed to dream beyond the people who haven’t texted back.

As in Little Miss Sunshine, the goal was never the trophy. It was the ride; the chaotic, infuriating, beautiful ride, and the people who helped you keep going when the horn wouldn’t stop blaring.

Your story matters. You matter. You just have to enjoy the ride one mile at a time. So…

Just get in the van.

Thanks for reading. More to come from me in the coming days!

—Max Timm & The Story Farm