© 20th Century Fox

Three out of five stars

How does a kid’s novel delve into serious, sorrowful issues but end up making you smile? Well, as the book’s youthful protagonist, India Opal would say, "It’s because of Winn-Dixie!" Kate DiCamillo’s book, set in the contemporary South, deals with some stern stuff: maternal abandonment, alcoholism, jail time and death. At times, I felt that I was reading William Faulkner or Flannery O’Connor instead of a young adult novel. But what makes this story Faulkner-lite or O’Connor-for-kids is not only the cheerful canine in the title role, but also DiCamillo’s light touch; she touches painful issues honestly but gently.

Part of the reason for the light feel of the book is that its heaviness is filtered through the eyes of ten-year-old Opal. Though suffering a great deal, she is basically upbeat and willing to reach out empathetically to those who are suffering around her; she and her seriously upbeat dog keep the story and the characters from sagging under too much melancholy.

The story follows Opal (AnnaSophia Robb in the film), who has had to leave all her friends behind so her dad, “The Preacher,” (Jeff Daniels) can pastor the local Baptist church in their new, small southern town. Opal is quite lonely until she meets Winn-Dixie, who not only helps her befriend some colorful locals, but also brings them together in a very positive way.

Screenwriter Joan Singleton and Director Wayne Wang have made the film version at once heavier and lighter, a weird combination that makes for some confusing emotion. Although one character in the book has a dangerous encounter with the police in his past, the film puts another creepy, threatening one in his present. But don’t worry, Winn-Dixie bites the cop’s rear until he’s standing in nothing but his silly red underpants. Ha, ha, ha. I’m not sure that upping the ante on serious issues and then trying to slapstick them into oblivion works well on any level, but hey, I might be wrong; the kids in the theater were laughing.

The screenplay also almost gets sidetracked as to the main point of the story. The film Preacher doesn’t accept the dog right away, as he does in the book, which adds a distracting tension; the celluloid Winn-Dixie is only going to be a temporary boarder in the family trailer. The first thing Opal does for the dog is give him a bath; in the book, the scene is filled with poignance as she tells him (and us) her immediate history and her fundamental problem: her aching loneliness for her long lost mother. The movie Opal, finding herself in the same scene, uses it instead to illustrate her own girly silliness and irresponsibility; trying out six different variations of hair decorations on the poor soapy dog while dancing to “Splish Splash I was Takin’ a Bath,” she doesn’t understand why he runs away before she can rinse him. She leaves the hose running (the hose she didn’t ask permission to use); the wayward hose creates a huge mud puddle which of course slips up: guess who? The mean old trailer park manager, Mr. Alfred. While on his muddy back, helplessly watching Winn-Dixie chase his cat, the mean Mr. Alfred vows revenge. Translated: the dog must go, ASAP. Either that, or he might just shoot him sometime.

Is this bad man redeemable? Does he deserve to be redeemed? Did he have any lines in the book? You won’t find any spoilers here, but his “evil” presence causes a serious tension that detracts from what is supposed to be the main tension of the story: Opal’s desperate loneliness for her mother. Instead of wondering, “Will she ever find her mom?” we spend most of the movie nervously asking, “Will she get to keep Winn-Dixie?”

Although Singleton and Wang take DiCamillo’s charming plot on a slightly manic-depressive ride, they wisely keep boomeranging it back to the central story, which is one of the things that ultimately saves the film. A Baptist church in an old convenience store, a candy that tastes sweet but makes you think of sorrow, a bear who once stole a novel from a library, an old woman with past and a tree full of bottles: this is the stuff of great storytelling and this is a great story. Its strong themes, such as the hidden sorrow of the common man and the healing power of friendship also manage to shine through the film version.

The other saving grace of the film is its fine acting. Jeff Daniels is likeable and solid as ever, although less turtle-like and more outgoing than he was supposed to be. He would have done better to adopt his self-effacing but capable Gettysburg persona, Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain. Dave Matthews is wonderful as the shy, guitar-strumming Otis, who has jail time in his past and a miraculous way with animals. Perfectly patrician Eve Marie Saint is the lovely aged maiden lady, Miss Franny Block, who has a library of her own. Cicely Tyson, as Gloria Dump, gives another beautiful suffering but noble African-American Everywoman performance loaded with drama and grace.

AnnaSophia Robb’s gives a winning portrayal of the dog-loving Opal. The screenplay makes her brattier than the book does, so she has ample opportunity to emote negatively (but quite realistically) at her father and the neighborhood boys with aplomb. The confused screenplay also puts bits of other character’s comments in her mouth, so instead of soaking up the wisdom of those around her, she occasionally dispenses it; Robb unfortunately can’t always make this work.

But she manages to pull together the plausible and implausible aspects of her script into a quite solid and mostly believable, if occasionally saccharine, performance. And the supporting players in this film do a great job portraying real kids. Young movie-goers will probably enjoy it and their parents will be willing to sit through it at least a few times. And if those parents like country music just a little bit, I guarantee they will be tapping their feet by the end credits.