Sunshine Cleaning vs Walking And Talking

Two movies into summer and I’m already exhausted. I mean, it’s not completely necessary to debut a new Terminator movie at midnight, is it? People are willing to get home at nearly three a.m. with no better story than “We saw Terminator 4”? Weird. Listen, I’m still a citizen of this country; it’s not like I don’t wanna see robots explode all summer. But once in a while I need to sneak off to the smaller theater with the bad seats and see something with less than five screenwriters. I picked Sunshine Cleaning. For the record, only two other people picked it. God bless America.

Sunshine Cleaning stars Amy Adams as Rose, a maid with a little son she’s raising alone. Much is made about the idea that Rose is too smart and pretty to be a maid, but it’s obvious she’s more embarrassed about being a maid in her home town. The job isn’t humiliating, it’s the old high school friends who see her do it. Rose’s son is a mild problem at his school (He’s got a non-issue a non-movie teacher could settle by maybe keeping him in at recess.), and she feels the only recourse is to send him to a private school she obviously cannot afford. Her surly, pothead sister Nora (Emily Blunt) is out of work, and Rose has a police connection in her married boyfriend (Steve Zahn), so in just a couple scenes, Rose and Nora are cleaning up crime scenes and raking in the cash. It probably seems a little pat, and I suppose that’s true, but Sunshine Cleaning is so charming and observant about its characters you won’t mind a few plot hiccups here and there. 

Amy Adams is great as Rose, but then again, she’s great period, right? Adams isn’t quite as much a chameleon as, say, Toni Collette, but if she’s always good, who am I to fault her for always being kind of herself? (See also: Woody Harrelson, Michael Cera and Drew Barrymore.) Adams plays Rose with reserves of pride, both actual and false. Rose does everything half way, because she’s so eager to prove herself that she skips steps. The crime cleaning, though, inspires her. Adams’ best scene occurs at a baby shower full of former classmates. Rose defends her business, giving a pitch worthy of Mary Kay. When she’s met with stares, she adjusts her hair and exits, leaving the other guests to wonder, “Who was that movie star?” Emily Blunt is maybe even a little better than Adams. Her Nora all pose in black make-up and tattoos, but she’s probably the most self-aware character in the entire movie. Of all the moments that might move a viewer, the ones that got me the most were the ones with Blunt on screen alone: “tresseling” under a train, and in the film’s final minutes, seeing a familiar face on television. 

Sunshine Cleaning was directed by Christine Jeffs. She’s definitely presenting this world and its characters with an eye for emotional rather than narrative impact. Not everything makes complete sense, and characters played by Mary Lynn Rajskub and Clifton Collins Jr. are left hanging (Collins is fantastic, by the way, and unrecognizable). Still, Blunt and Adams carry the film effortlessly, and I gotta say, Sunshine Cleaning moved the hell out of me. I didn’t cry as much as Blunt during the TV scene, but I came close. I don’t think the other two in the audience noticed.

Like Sunshine Cleaning, Walking and Talking is a feel-good indie movie with two great actresses. But since Walking and Talking was made in the indie-movie boom of the nineties, it’s lower budget, and even more focused on dialogue and a fascination with day-to-day life. Sunshine Cleaning has a pretty high-concept plot for a small movie, but Walking and Talking is basically just what the title says, although sometimes there is sitting and silence as well.

Anne Heche and Catherine Keener are Laura and Amelia, respectively, two best friends since childhood. Laura is enthusiastically getting married, but Amelia is unhappy and alone.  There’s a cancer scare, a dead cat, and an awkward break-up, but mainly it’s just about the friends. Walking and Talking, like Kicking and Screaming, Before Sunrise and Singles, is so Generation X you’ll wanna put on flannel to watch it.  It’s got traces of all those films, plus Seinfeld, Friends, and even, at its core, Sex and the City. A subplot involving Keener’s date with “the ugly guy” sets up what might otherwise be an easy or mean joke. Instead, it’s smart and poignant and is probably the part I’d fast forward to if I watched Walking and Talking today. 

Nicole Holofcener directed Walking and Talking. Of course it’s sitcommy and overly self-reflective (so are you, so am I), but it’s nowhere as formulaic or humiliating as its mainstream counterparts (make Heche and Keener’s characters watch My Best Friend’s Wedding, and I bet they’d last about twenty minutes.) By making her movie under the radar when that sort of thing was encouraged (we think it’s encouraged now, but look how many movies go straight to DVD), Holofcener just might be a bit of a rebel. I wouldn’t credit her Amelia and Laura chatting about their dying cat for Rose and Nora getting their own crime scene-cleaning company, but when the credits roll on Sunshine Cleaning’s happy ending, it might be something to think about.

Sunshine Cleaning: B+

Walking and Talking: B