Less Doing, More Talking: SHITHOUSE and 4 Other Movies Where Two People Just Talk

On its face, a college comedy called Shithouse sounds like my worst nightmare. But after hearing multiple film podcasts and Letterboxd reviews rave about its wunderkind writer/director/star, Cooper Raiff, I was eager to watch it. I had no idea that it would become the latest entry into my favorite genre of film, "two people meet, have instant chemistry, and just spend the rest of the movie talking." 

Alex (Cooper Raiff) is a sensitive boy. He's halfway through his first year in college and doesn't have any friends other than his mom and sister back home, whom he calls frequently. From the very first scene, we realize that while he isn't necessarily weird, he is definitely out of place in this collegiate party-focused world. Shithouse does for college what Eighth Grade did for middle school by revealing both the hilarious absurdity and squirm-worthy awkwardness of a particular age.

After a failed attempt at socializing at a party, he meets Maggie (Dylan Gelula) and has one of those nights that seem so doable when you're 19. The two walk and talk for hours about college, dating, parents, grief, and what it means to grow up. All these scenes really have are honest writing and obvious chemistry, but that's exactly enough.

Unlike most movies in this category I love, where the two main characters end their story wistfully saying goodbye to one another, the second half of Shithouse shows Alex reveling in his perfect, romantic allnighter only to find out his partner has no interest in keeping the magic going. Woof, I've been there, bud. This means I so genuinely appreciate seeing this pain play out from a male perspective. In fact, what really won me over was how refreshing this particular male perspective is throughout the movie. Alex cries easily and hard. His default mode is to take care of people. He is not aloof or macho. These traits draw Maggie in and simultaneously freak her out. What a joy it was watching these two almost adults figure out what they mean to each other. 

Shithouse joins a rich line of "two people talking" films. Here are four more of my favorites.

Before Sunrise (1995)

The perfect template for this genre that many films in its wake would model their own romances after. Jesse (Ethan Hawke) and Céline (Julie Delpy) meet on a train and decide to spend the night roaming Vienna's streets before they must go their separate ways. The romance that sparked a devastating trilogy, spanning over 18 years, began with two young idealists walking and talking for hours about love, God, and everything in between. Nobody handles directionless yet meaningful dialogue like writer/director Richard Linklater. So much so that this list could just be a selection of his filmography. But what fun would that be?

Weekend (2011)

Weekend is easily the sexiest of this bunch. After what could have been just a one night stand, Russell (Tom Cullen) and Glen (Chris New) end up spending the whole weekend having sex and talking. It's a story of two gay men who move through the world differently than each other, one brash and angry, the other reserved and hopeful. They talk about coming out, being gay in public, and having friends that tie you down. They also talk about sex in deliciously straightforward ways. It is exciting to witness such fast intimacy. People have different conversations in a bed or smoking on a couch than they do walking down a street (even an empty one at night). These are the conversations that make me feel warm and tucked away.

Columbus (2017)

In addition to talking, Columbus is a film about two people looking. While Jin (John Cho) is visiting Columbus, Indiana, to take care of his critically ill father, he meets a local young woman (Haley Lu Richardson) who is eager to give him a tour of her favorite spots in town. But unlike most small towns, Columbus happens to be a hidden gem full of the country's most innovative modern architecture. The two spend most of their time in this quiet film looking at buildings and slowly revealing themselves to each other. They are both struggling with the question, "How much do we owe our flawed parents? How responsible for them should we be?" I love a film that takes its time, and Columbus provides us with beautiful, meditative cinematography to look at while it does so. 

Olympic Dreams (2020)

This mumblecore entry doesn't have as sparkling a script as the others. Still, it makes up for that with a truly authentic and unique setting: the Olympic Village. Filmed during the 2018 winter games in South Korea, it focuses on Penelope, the skier (played by real-life Olympian Alexi Pappas), and Ezra, the volunteer dentist (played by Nick Kroll). Both are lonely and feeling a bit unsure of their futures when they meet and decide to spend the rest of their time at the games exploring with each other. What really makes this film special is knowing that it is the first fictional movie to ever be filmed in the Olympic Village. This unprecedented access means that almost every minor character and background actor is an Olympic athlete lending their time to participate in a tender low-budget indie. We love it when the jocks and theater kids unite.

If you're like me and feeling a bit lonely because it's the holidays and oh also because we're living through an incredibly isolating pandemic, I hope you'll turn on one of these blissfully talkative movies and join me in praying for the days when we can meet strangers again and spend hours in conversation with them.