Miss Firecracker (1989)

(On Cable TV, September 2022) Let me be clear on something: I’m well on my way to watch anything featuring Mary Steenburgen. Anything. Automatic recording. Some actresses are appealing and some aren’t on purely idiosyncratic grounds (you’d be surprised to hear me dismiss a few designated “sex-symbols” of Hollywood history), but I think Steenburgen is cute no matter the role, the era or the circumstances. Miss Firecracker, in presenting her as a former beauty queen in small-town Mississippi, seems custom-built for me. Except that Steenburgen isn’t the main character—in fact, she’s more of a supporting antagonist, as she provides an example for the real protagonist to emulate. Except that this protagonist, a young brash unrefined and unfeminine teenager (Holly Hunter in an early exuberant but glammed-down turn), is most definitely not in the same league as her genteel cousin, and that becomes the crux of the film: What worth is a beauty queen title if beauty is such a social concept? Is it worth transforming oneself to fit expectations for such an arbitrary goal? The small-town comedy is seldom overdone (even turning to embarrassment comedy at a crucial junction), but the character studies are convincing. Hunter, reprising a role she inhabited on Broadway, is a bit of an intentional wildcard here, but supporting players such as Tim Robbins (extending the gangly phase of his career) and Alfred Woddard (very cute in braids and round glasses) also do good work. And then there’s Steenburgen, looking regal as the ex-beauty queen despite not quite being on the protagonist’s side. She may have been the single reason why I watched Miss Firecracker, but not the only one explaining why I ended up liking it.