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There are few directors who are more interested in the idea of place than John Sayles. His two most recent English-language films, Limbo and Lone Star, focused on how a locale (Alaska and Texas, respectively) shape the people who live there. Earlier works, such as City of Hope and Secret of Roan Inish, similarly looked at the impact of place in our lives. In his latest movie, Sunshine State, he focuses his gaze on Florida and a small town on the cusp of being radically changed.

One of the most refreshing things about Sayles's films is how they deal with real people and real problems. That might sound obvious, but think about how few movies actually do that. Men in Black 2? Nope. Mr. Deeds? Nope. The Bourne Identity? Not really. Spider-man? Naah. Even "realistic" movies involve situations that few of us will ever encounter--extraordinary war footage, hostage dramas, etc. Those of us wanting to search for real life in the movies are usually forced to watch foreign movies or period pieces, and neither of those completely address our contemporary American society.

Sunshine State is as relevant as they come. Hot-button issues such as racism and the conflict between development and environmentalism interact with the universal themes of family, love, and history. All are portrayed through 20+ characters who look and act like people we meet on the street every day.

As Chris Cooper's sheriff was the sun in Lone Star around which the other characters revolved, two women provide the gravity of Sunshine State. Edie Falco plays Marly Temple, a motel manager who both loves the motel but desperately wants out of her role as its manager. Angela Bassett is Desiree Perry, a woman who left Florida as a teenager and has only now returned to see her mother.

These two women, with their various sets of binaries, raise almost all of the film's critical issues. One is white, one is black; one is stuck in Florida but wants to leave, one is returning to Florida but isn't sure she can stay; one is single but desperate for love, the other is newly married but has to confront an old and troubling flame.

Surrounding these women are a whole host of interesting characters. There's Marly's ex-husband (Richard Edson) who spends his time doing re-enactments of the Civil War; Desiree's new husband (James McDaniel) tries to fit in and ends up mentoring a young boy (Alex Lewis) that Desiree's mother (Mary Alice) has taken in. Marly's mother (Jane Alexander), a progressive drama teacher who mentored Desiree so long ago, is married to Marly's crusty, old father (Ralph Waite) who refuses to sell his motel. The developers, who desperately want to buy the motel so they can unify their property, have sent a landscape architect (Timothy Hutton) to woo Marly in the hopes she'll convince her father to sell. Then there's a local chamber of commerce woman (Mary Steenburgen) who is trying to create a "new tradition" in the form of Buccaneer Days, but her husband (Gordon Clapp) has problems of his own. Meanwhile, an old black man (Bill Cobb) is trying to forestall the developers because their plans infringe on the rich African-American
history of the place.

As Sayles powerfully points out, place is inevitably wrapped up with history and, indeed, competing ideas of history. The white townsfolk look on an old cemetery as an impediment to new development and the jobs that go with it, while the African-Americans see it as a critical marker in their struggle for equality. Marly's ex-husband, a man without any real roots, tries to find some stability in his Civil War re-enactments, which is itself a selective approach to a historical event. And Steenburgen's character hopes to create the town's history in the hope of making it more marketable.

There's also personal history, of course. Desiree returns to the town she left in disgrace (teenage pregnancy and her parents' conservative views sent her away), where she tries to reconcile with her mother and her old boyfriend, a star football player who's now reduced to selling cars. Marly once left the town as a mermaid performer, but she keeps getting pulled back. Everyone has a history, the film reminds us--a history shaped by the family we inherited, the friends we chose, and the place we grew up.

Contributing mightily to the film's success is the strong acting on display. Both Bassett and Falco are fantastic, strong female characters, a rare commodity in Hollywood. And Mary Alice, as Desiree's mother, is especially good as a woman who's seen it all but is still committed to helping the less fortunate. Sayles's direction isn't as flashy as it was in Lone Star or Limbo, but it moves his fantastic script along with workmanlike precision. And Mason Daring's score anchors the movie in helpful ways.

My friend Garth has always been bothered by what he calls the didacticism of Sayles's movies. It's true that Sayles has a message he wants to convey, but I would argue that it's far from didactic. If Sayles is trying to teach us anything, it's that we can't escape our history and the place we grew up in. We can only confront them, learn about and from them, and then move on in our lives while always recognizing that those aspects will always be with us. 

J. Robert Parks