iklelele’s review published on Letterboxd:
Can you tell me what kind of stuff you do everyday Moonee?
Unfettered from any responsibilities; living a carefree life; the kids in Sean Baker's The Florida Project fascinate me with their inexhaustible energy and ennui-immunity, albeit enduring under such disparate conditions. The infantile colorways exceedingly accentuated to further brace the innocence and the nonchalance of Moonee and co. as well as Baker's itch of attaching the utmost significance to the generous presentation of their respective habitat with steadfast, leaned back imagery ranging from motley amusement parks and tempting food stands; it's crystal-clear that these pages from a fairy tale are juxtaposed with the harsh reality of poverty. Throughout I couldn't help but feel as if a dark cloud was looming above the kids' heads. Unable to obtain a proper education; exposed to chain smoking and eminently unadequate parenting; their fate is without professional intervention most likely going to be sealed - and what's worse, remains the fact that they are unaware. It's beautifully sad.
If you're working, who's looking after Moonee?
Dafoe's character doesn't get enough to do except for showcasing his day-to-day duties in a unfastened manner within the story. Yet, Bobby manages to surpass both female protagonists taking into account the agitated melancholia of Halley predominating and plaguing the entire building once Moonee has performed her uncontrollable mania. And thus, The Florida Project has two relatively labile figures to anchor our hearts, but the undeniable genuineness that stems from this neat little work is a testament I do admire.