Show me a first time feature filmmaker, and I'll show you someone with a slightly messy roadtrip movie to get out of his/her system. But if you're a festival programmer, I suggest you ask yourself this question: how many self-consciously "quirky" Murphy's Law comedies set primarily on a highway does a single schedule actually need? Sundance 2006 has two that I've seen – Wristcutters and Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris' Little Miss Sunshine – and possibly others that have slipped under my radar. Wristcutters, as I wrote in my review, at least takes the stuff of indie cliche and pumps it through a new filter; Little Miss Sunshine is not nearly as organized as that. The problem with this film – which is so far the big cash cow of the festival, having sold last weekend to Fox Searchlight for a reported eight figures – is not just that it's got very little new to bring to the party, although there's that, too; more importantly, Sunshine is dragged down by its apparent confusion over what kind of film it wants to be. Is this a poignant, PT Anderson-esque ensemble film, as the opening montage might suggest? Is it, its inexplicably retro sense of design might have us believe, a Wes Andersonian, irony-heavy drama about a family's clashing idiosyncrasies? Or is it a simple, slapstick crowdpleaser, as indicated by the apparent aims behind both its dismally unfunny second third, and facile but admittedly tear-inducingly funny climax? I'll tell you this: by the time the family in question is working together to transport a corpse out of a hospital, it seemed pretty clear to me that Little Miss Sunshine has The Happy, Texas Curse written all over it.