From Exuberance to Irony: “Walking on Sunshine” in Film

Written for grad school in 2009, this piece is a fun look at how one song has endured through twenty-five plus years and scores of use in various media. 


       Kicky drums and tambourine open the song, beating out a sense of excitement about what’s to come. Almost any listener knows the song from those first ten seconds, and anyone who is not sure is certain when vocalist Katrina Leskanich explodes with an enthusiastic, “Ow!” eleven seconds in. Then come the horns, and Katrina and the Waves’ “Walking on Sunshine” is off on its three-minute, fifty-seven second journey of infectious happiness. It is a an upbeat, cheerful song with heartfelt, throaty vocals and lyrics that speak of the realization of true love –

I used to think maybe you loved me
Now baby I’m sure
And I just can’t wait ’till the day
When you knock on the door
Now every time I go for the mailbox
Gotta hold myself down
‘Cause I just can’t wait
’till you write me your comin’ around
I’m walkin’ on sunshine, woh-oh
I’m walkin’ on sunshine, woh-oh
I’m walkin’ on sunshine, woh-oh
And don’t it feel good?

                                    “Walking on Sunshine” written by Kimberley Rew

– nothing that different than scores of pop songs that have come before and after, but Katrina and the Waves captured an essence, a moment of emotion that many filmmakers have since used to underscore or punctuate visual moments in their work. Since its initial release on the American charts in 1985, “Walking on Sunshine” has been featured in ten films, a dozens of television shows, and scores commercials. Its inclusion in so many films speaks to its universal appeal, certainly. As EMI Records executive Jarrett Mason, says, “It has that kind of feel-good vibe that can just be applied everywhere” (Blair).

The journey “Walking on Sunshine” took to become a ubiquitous part of the commercial pop music soundtrack is similar to the journey Katrina and the Waves took to achieve such a colossal hit. Core members of The Waves met in 1979, in England. What would be the final lineup of Katrina and the Waves was formed by 1981: songwriter/guitarist Kimberley Rew, American vocalist Katrina Leskanich, drummer Alex Cooper, and bassist Vince de la Cruz (“History”). In 1983, the band self-produced an album of original material, which they shopped to various records labels. Canadian independent Attic Records was the only one to respond and Katrina and the Waves album Walking On Sunshine was released on Attic that year, featuring an early version of the title track. The album saw moderate success, making this British-based band an artist only available in Canada (ibid).

A huge break came after The Bangles covered their song “Going Down To Liverpool” in 1984. The popularity of “Liverpool” and its quirky video (featuring Leonard Nimoy) grabbed the attention Columbia Records who soon offered the band a contract (“History”). “Walking on Sunshine” was reworked and included on the band’s first, self-titled album with Columbia Records in 1985. It was a huge hit in America, rising to the top ten on the Billboard Hot 100 (“Biography”). Within a year, Katrina and the Waves were nominated for a Best New Artists Grammy and touring with top grossing acts Wham, The Beach Boys, Don Henley, and Chaka Khan (ibid). A second album contributed to Katrina and the Waves rise but a third garnered little critical or commercial interest. They were soon dropped by Columbia.

Katrina and the Waves soon found another label, SBK Records, but attempts to reinvigorate their image and sound did not lead to another international hit the likes of “Walking on Sunshine.” They would not have such success again until the 1997 Eurovision contest. Katrina and the Waves represented England, and their entry; “Love Shine a Light” would go on to sweep the contest, earning record high points (“History”). As a single, “Love Shine a Light,” reached #3 in the UK but never made it to America, leaving “Walking on Sunshine” as Katrina and the Waves’ sole hit single in this country. Katrina Leskanich left the band the following year, and the other members eventually pursued solo projects. Katrina still performs “Walking on Sunshine.” Guitarist Rew, who wrote the smash single, lives off of the royalties the song earns from ongoing appearances in film and on television (Blair).

What is the appeal of “Walking on Sunshine” that it could continue appear in film after film twenty-five years after its release? This study will survey eleven movies that feature the familiar, 1985 hit version of “Walking on Sunshine,” as performed by Katrina and the Waves, observing how, where, and when “Walking on Sunshine” is placed and used. It will explore the central question of why the song is chosen, how the tone of scene varies when the song is diegetic versus non-diegetic, and how the context of the song changes when it is used in a straightforward manner and when it used in an ironic scene. When viewed through the cultural context of the time of production, each instance of “Walking on Sunshine” will be have a distinct flavor, while patterns of use will emerge. To limit what is a wide scope of usage, covers of the song are excluded. Theatrical releases are considered but made-for-television movies and episodic television programs are excluded, except as context for range and chronology. This survey will show that, through time, “Walking on Sunshine” has moved from being a sincere expression of optimism and exuberance in a film, to being used as way to underscore irony and humor.

With such buoyant lyrics and a peppy beat, “Walking on Sunshine” was a perfect choice for the first major film in which it was included, The Secret of My Success (1987), starring Michael J. Fox.  In the film, Brantley (Fox) is a well-educated young man who is working in his uncle’s business for the summer. Instead of the upward-reaching executive position he’d hoped for, Brantley finds himself working in a mailroom. Soon, he finds a way to pose as the executive he wants to be while still along with his lowly position. “Walking on Sunshine” appears in a scene where he is successfully juggling the two lives. His new secretary catches him changing from his mailroom clothes to a suit in his purloined executive office. After he quickly dispatches her, the opening beats of “Walking on Sunshine” begin as he finishes rapidly dressing. It is background soundtrack, not a part of a diegesis. The scene then changes to a montage of Brantley interacting with other executives and workers in the firm, illustrating how well he is fitting into the culture and pulling off his deception.

In this first theatrical use, The Secret of My Success, “Walking on Sunshine” clearly illustrates the situation at hand: Brantley is on top of his game, thrilled with his success in the business and full of optimism. It also underscores the second part of the plot involving Brantley’s budding love affair with Christy (Helen Slater). As he continues to work both positions successfully, he can continue to woo Christy, another budding executive. “Walking on Sunshine” is an ideal background for a euphoric moment.

“Walking on Sunshine” would next appear theatrically in two movies in 1989: Look Who’s Talking, and Longtime Companion. The two movies represent two very different treatments of the song and questions of exactly where music fits in the diegesis. In Look Who’s Talking, “Walking on Sunshine” comes into the film about an hour in. Mollie (Kirstie Alley) has had a baby by her married boyfriend, and is raising the baby (Mikey) alone. She is searching for a perfect father for Mikey, and goes on a string of bad dates. Meanwhile, a cab driver, James (John Travolta) she met by chance when he drove her to the hospital, has struck up a deal to babysit in exchange for use of her mailing address. “Walking on Sunshine” fits into the film during one of these bad date/babysitting evenings. First, we see Mollie trying to make conversation with a boring accountant over dinner, and then at 51:57 the scene cuts back to Mollie’s apartment. The song starts from the beginning and we see some stuffed animals being manipulated as puppets. The toys are “dancing” on a tabletop to the opening beats of the song. At the iconic “Ow!” eleven seconds in to the song, we see James appear up from behind the table and throw the animals right on the exact beat of the “Ow!” He continues to dance for a delighted Mikey. The song plays out for approx a minute while James dances around the living room while Mikey cheers, and then picks up Mikey and dances with him. “Walking on Sunshine” fades out at 52:59 and as the scene cuts back to Mollie’s miserable, stilted date. We hear “Walking on Sunshine” faintly in the background for a few seconds, and then silence for the duration of the date scene (about a minute). The music fades back in at 53:56 for the last second of the date scene, and then the film cuts back to James and Mikey who are dancing and laughing. Attentive listeners can hear a subtle cut in the song which removes the middle minute or so and cuts to the beginning of the ending section of the song, James picks up Mikey and spins him, then settles on to the couch and hugs him. The scene, and song, ends.

Look Who’s Talking presents an interesting question about source music versus score. In the dancing scene, we do not see a source of the music. There is no radio, no stereo in the scene, and James does not start or stop any device. On the other hand, James clearly hears the song or at least some music because he is dancing, and his rhythm and movement seem synchronized to the same music the audience hears, “Walking on Sunshine.” Further, at the beginning of the song he throws the stuffed animals right on the beat of the “Ow!” clearly seeming to hear it. The baby also seems to hear the music as well and dances to the beat. Curiously, though, the song can also be heard fading in and out as the scene cuts from James and Mikey to Mollie’s date. A case could be made that the song happens to be on in the cab that is dropping Mollie off at a movie theater, but how to we account for the hearing the song fade back in later in the scene, the cab having long since departed? In terms of tone of the song use in Look Who’s Talking, it is used in an earnest manner, evoking a sense of fun, wackiness, and exuberance. Also key to note that James is, at this point in the film, considered immature and childlike (Mollie at one point calls him a “big kid”). This sequence is illustrative of his youthful, childish nature as he spends an evening with a one-year old.

Longtime Companion (1989) offers possibly the first use of “Walking on Sunshine” in more ironic fashion, contrasting the song with the tone of the scene. Longtime Companion follows the lives of a group of friends in New York from the earliest years to the height of the AIDS crisis in the mid-1980s. Halfway through the film, David (Bruce Davison) is seen sipping coffee at a breakfast table in silence. Another man, Henry, (Pi Douglass) enters the background and turns on a radio just out of sight. “Walking on Sunshine” plays from the first verse, not beginning, as if turned on mid-song. Henry smiles happily and clears the breakfast dishes. The music continues, more softly in the background as the scene shifts to David entering the bedroom of Sean (Mark Lamos), which has been converted into a hospital room. Sean is dying of AIDS. David engages him in talk, but Sean is almost completely unresponsive, save for gasping and a few choked out words. The song plays in contrast to the sad and stark scene as David, joined by Henry, tends to Sean, changing his undergarments and so on. The song stops when the scene cuts to David and Henry discussing Henry’s impending errand to buy groceries. The next long scene is completely silent, as David sits with Sean, talking softly. Sean dies.

Though the source of the music is off screen, we see Henry reach out, make an arm movement, and music begins. This indicates that Henry has turned on the music. “Walking on Sunshine” is inside Longtime Companion, punctuating the push-pull between Henry’s desire to remain positive and the stark reality of Sean’s grave condition. “Walking on Sunshine” is used in a realistic manner: as a background in the daily routine of a family. It is a natural human habit to turn on music in the home, and this scene helps to bring out the very humanness of dealing with death and illness. Longtime Companion itself can be said to have helped put a human face on the AIDS crisis. Using “Walking on Sunshine” to illustrate the way in which a family normalizes and copes with the impact of AIDS in their lives furthers its part of that human face.

It would be eight years before “Walking on Sunshine” would again be heard in a film, though it was already appearing in commercials and on MTV’s Beavis and Butthead in the interim. Then 1997’s Mr. Bean used “Walking on Sunshine” in a fast cut of humor. Appearing sixteen minutes in the film, it only lasts for a few seconds. Mr. Bean (Rowan Atkinson) has been sent from his job at Britain’s Royal Gallery to a Los Angeles museum to protect a famous painting. Through a standard twist of topsy-turvy plotting, Mr. Bean has been mistaken for art expert also visiting from the UK, and the curator of the Los Angeles gallery, David (Peter MacNicol) has taken him into his home. Mr. Bean is an eccentric character, and his time in David’s home is not going well. After a six-minute sequence of uncomfortable moments (including Mr. Bean ruining dinner), the scene cuts to a red car driving on a Los Angeles city street and we hear the opening of “Walking on Sunshine.” The scene then cuts to the interior of the car and two characters having a conversation. “Walking on Sunshine” fades out after approx 25 seconds total time. David, driving the car, is trying to reassure himself and Bean that, though they have had a difficult beginning to his visit, today offers a fresh start. Bean himself seems oblivious that he has been floundering while trying to fit in with David’s family and culture.

“Walking on Sunshine” is used here in line with Kassabian’s notion of a “dramatic score” (45). It is not part of the diegesis, at least not initially. When the scene cuts to the interior of the car, the music is much softer and could possibly be coming from the car radio, though nothing indicates this directly. This use, then, is more to match and contrast the events on screen: David and Mr. Bean’s floundering relationship is perhaps on a new road. The song gives a very brief note of optimism and also humor in contrasting to how awkward the previous scenes were.

In the new millennium, the tone of how “Walking on Sunshine” is used in film scenes would begin to trend more toward ironic then exuberant, as had been seen in the years just after its initial release. High Fidelity (2000) was the next film to use it, and the first to feature it in a fully comedic scene. While Look Who’s Talking’s dance scene brought a high-spirited and amusing counterpoint to Mollie’s date, it was not the song itself that made the scene funny. In High Fidelity, Barry’s (Jack Black) inclusion of “Walking on Sunshine” on his special Monday morning mix tape is meant to be funny in and of itself. Barry and Rob (John Cusack) are self-admitted ‘music snobs” who work and spend most of their time in a record store, sneering at the music tastes of the customers, Barry especially. They celebrate and revere music that is obscure and not mainstream. Katrina and the Waves, with their one mainstream smash hit, are not part of the film’s established acceptable tastes. Yet Barry is more than enthusiastic about “Walking on Sunshine” when he bursts into the store on a Monday morning.

After criticizing the music playing (Belle and Sebastian), he puts a cassette in the sound system and it plays “Walking on Sunshine”, starting at the beginning of the song. Barry dances wildly around the record store. Rob asks him to turn it off, and Barry yells, “It won’t go any louder!” He proceeds to dance, imitating sex, while Rob finds the off button, which silences the song. Rob and Barry argue about the song and Rob’s dismissal of it. Barry says, “I made this tape to cheer us up!” Rob just wants to listen to something he can ignore.

“Walking on Sunshine” is certainly inside the diegesis of this film. A movie about music lovers, audiophiles, and record collectors would be difficult to truly articulate without source music. In this scene, the source of “Walking on Sunshine,” Barry’s tape and the store sound system, is clear and a part of the scene. The song humorously illustrates Barry’s freewheeling, emotional, reckless personality. It also contrasts to Rob’s terrible mood, due to the previous segment in the movie in which his girlfriend moves out of their apartment, ending their relationship. Rob could not want to walk on sunshine less than he does that day.

American Psycho, also released in 2000, would seem, at first glance, to be a horse of an entirely different color, as it is a dark, sardonic thriller. However, in terms of irony and use of music, it takes a similar tack as High Fidelity. Through the film, main character Patrick Bateman’s (Christian Bale) fondness for and deep intellectual interest in what might be termed “light” pop music (Huey Lewis in an infamous axe scene, Whitney Houston, Genesis “post-Peter Gabriel,” he takes pains to point out) is an interesting aspect of his personality, especially when juxtaposed over his intensely psychotic behavior. He discusses music much like Rob and friends do in High Fidelity, with conviction. Unlike High Fidelity, where music is a natural part of the setting and plot, Patrick’s decision to discuss, for instance, the catalog of Huey Lewis and the News is timed jarringly, as when he is about to axe a rival to death. In this scene, as in others, he plays the music for his companion/victim and gives a monolog about the artist. In this way, most of the music in the film is inside the diegesis.

“Walking on Sunshine” varies slightly, by at first being part of the non-diegetic soundtrack and then turning diegetic. It appears approximately then minutes into the film, after an extended scene in which Patrick details his morning routine in narration over the visual on scene. Patrick has just said that though he is a human of flesh and bone, he is really empty inside. “There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of an abstraction. There is no real me, only an entity, something illusory.” The scene cuts from a stark shot of Patrick staring into a mirror just after peeling off a facial mask, to an external shot of a high-rise in Manhattan. “Walking on Sunshine” plays over the shot. Then it cuts to Patrick, entering an office suite, wearing headphones and walking purposefully. “Walking on Sunshine” is then diegetic, playing through his headphones. It is possible that the placement of such lightweight, happy song after such a startling admission is intended to highlight Patrick’s emptiness. Listening to Katrina and the Waves, like his admiration for other pop artists, could also be a way that Patrick tries to assimilate into the more human culture around him.

On the other hand, three newer films, from 2002-2005 use “Walking on Sunshine” in a way that harkens back to Look Who’s TalkingMaster of Disguise (2002), features Dana Carvey as a misfit young man, Pistachio. “Walking on Sunshine” occurs early in the film, just after a sequence detailing his difficulties fitting in while growing up. The scene then cuts to an adult Pistachio inside his mother’s restaurant. An uncle informs him that there is a girl outside waiting for him. He is excited and runs from the room. In the next shot, “Walking on Sunshine” plays from the beginning as Pistachio runs down the stairs in the restaurant, and briefly speaks with his mother about the girl waiting outside. It continues until Pistachio goes outside and greets the girl. “Walking on Sunshine” then fades out. The song punctuates his thrill of a potential romance, and the optimism that is so clearly part of the song. It is purely soundtrack; no source can be seen.

Likewise with Daddy Cay Care, released in 2003. “Walking on Sunshine” appears over the opening credits, starting with the beginning of the song. Through the credit sequence, nearly the entire song is played, making this one of the longest running occurrences. The opening scene over which the music is played is suited, almost too literally, to the “sunshine” part of the lyric, beginning as it does with a small child waking up in the morning and going through a typical morning routine. It meant to be a lightweight, cute sequence, in which he gets out of bed, walks down a hall and enters a bathroom (disappearing from our line of sight), all while “Walking on Sunshine” is playing. The music then pauses and instead we hear the sound of urination. The song begins after the sound of a toilet flushing, at the approximate place where it would be if the song had continued during the bathroom scene, but on mute. It continues while the boy brushes his teeth and climbs down a large staircase, enters a living room and then dining room, where he finds his father (Eddie Murphy) asleep at the dining room table. The song fades out as Murphy wakes up. “Walking on Sunshine” opens the film, and starts the customary comedy with an upbeat feeling. The humorous fade out/fade in over the bathroom sounds identify that this will be a comedy, and an upbeat tone.

2005’s Raise Your Voice uses “Walking on Sunshine” in a very quick clip, where a character appears to be listening to the song, although the source is not seen. She mouths along with the lyrics, and a few seconds later, begins singing. What is interesting about “Walking on Sunshine” in this film is that Raise Your Voice is a teen film starring Hilary Duff, aimed at her teen and “tween” fanbase. That “Walking on Sunshine” is both a song that a teen character such as Duff’s Terri would listen to, and that the teen audience would recognize speaks to the continued appeal of the hit.

The most recent films to use “Walking on Sunshine” were both released in 2009. New in Town, with Renée Zellweger, features “Walking on Sunshine” in an intentionally contrasting, humorous scene. Zellweger is from Miami and stuck in Minnesota in December, on a work assignment. As a she is packing a suitcase, a weather report is heard and seen on her television, stating, “Another snowstorm is headed our way.” She mutters to herself, “doesn’t matter…I’m going to Miami” and the opening beats of “Walking on Sunshine” are heard softly underneath. Then, the song opening hits loudly as she zips up her bag. Cut to a deserted street in daytime, snow is blowing wildly, and the song has cut to the chorus, creating an ironic or satiric effect with the contrasting weather in scene. The songs continues as we see a car make its way through the snow flurries, and cut to an airport where we see her approach a gate. The point of view switches to hers as we see the flight monitors and the word “cancelled” across all flights. “Walking on Sunshine” then ends with a slowing down effect, as if a record player was turned off in mid-revolution. Far from The Secret of My Success treatment, New in Town uses “Walking on Sunshine” for comedic effect. Instead of using the message and tone of the song to underscore the visual, the song instead highlights the irony of the visual.

The most recent film with “Walking on Sunshine” in the soundtrack is Moon, also released in 2009. Sam Rockwell is Sam, a technician stationed alone at a work base on the moon, with only a robot for company. An hour into the film, a second Sam has been awakened by the robot, GERTY. At 52:55 Sam1 enters the galley area of and prepares a meal, while Sam2 reclines in a wing-backed chair in the foreground. Sam2 engages Sam1 in conversation, apologizing for an outburst of anger in an earlier scene, which ended with Sam2 physically assaulting Sam1. In this scene, Sam1 in severely bruised and injured from the fight. As Sam2 approaches Sam1 in the galley, Sam1 hits a button on a small device and the beginning of “Walking on Sunshine” blares out. He starts dancing. Sam2 asks if he could turn it off, but Sams1 ignores him, continuing to dance to the music. Sam2 hits a button on the device, silencing the music. Sam1 turns it back on. This back and forth echoes the fight over “Walking on Sunshine” in High Fidelity. A very ragged-looking, angry Sam1 willfully ignores Sam2, continues to dance and shovel food into his mouth, until Sam2 picks up the device and throws it out of camera range. The music stops. Part of the scene, with the source clearly in the frame, “Walking on Sunshine” is diegetic here, as in High Fidelity. It is an ironic choice, since there is no sunshine on the moon, and Sam1 is angry, injured and very confused about who Sam2 is and what his existence might mean. The song also contrasts with the tension of the scene, the despair Sam1 is starting to feel over learning that the situation on the moon base might not be what he thought it was, with his anger with Sam2. This use of “Walking on Sunshine” confirms that the song is still meaningful enough to suggest a sense of incongruity when played over a tense, unhappy scene.

Katrina and the Waves struck gold with “Walking on Sunshine.” As a pop hit, it is remembered more than two decades after it first hit American radio and it is a part of a 1980s one-hit wonder legacy. Beyond the music world, “Walking on Sunshine” is an artifact of cinema as well. As has been illustrated, in eleven major theatrical films spanning twenty-two years, “Walking on Sunshine” has been employed to serve purposes as Kassabian has defined: for identification, for mood, and for commentary (56). In films like The Secret of My SuccessLook Who’s Talking, and Raise Your Voice, the song helps set an exuberant, fun, optimistic mood. Longtime Companion includes “Walking on Sunshine” as a commentary on the struggle to remain human in the face of trauma. By opening Daddy Day Care with the song, the filmmakers signal to the audience in the first two minutes that what they are about to see is a light, upbeat comedy. “Walking on Sunshine” is used in other cases to evoke a “countermood,” as in Moon and High Fidelity, where the rhythm, tone, and even lyrics of the song are at odds with the setting and mood of the scene (ibid 59).

The wide appeal of “Walking on Sunshine” speaks to the construction of the song, from the writing to the performance. The title itself is a hook that becomes the oft-repeated refrain of the chorus. Speaking of writing popular songs for Tin Pan Alley, author E. M. Wickes said, “a good title can have punch and make the song into a hit” (Frith, Songs as Texts 158). The lively melody and throaty vocals give life to Kimberley Rew’s lyrics. It’s hard to imagine anyone else articulating “Walking on Sunshine” just as Katrina Leskanich did, though it has been covered by several artists with varying degrees of success over the years. Leskanich’s performance of in the 1985 version is a composition of the nature, technique, and will unique to Leskanich herself (Frith, Performance, 205).

Song plus performer came together to create a statement of purpose that continues to be popular, recognized, and relevant today. Though last heard in the theater in 2009, “Walking on Sunshine” is currently being used to peddle allergy drugs in national commercials, and was recently featured in an episode of the Fox mega-hit Glee. It is a song destined to keep turning up in media outlets where an up-tempo burst of enthusiasm suits the mood or irony of a scene. And don’t it feel good?


“Biography.” Leskanich, Katrina. Web. 9 Nov. 2010.

“History.” n.d. Web. 9 Nov. 2010.

American Psycho. Dir. Mary Harron. Perf. Christian Bale, Willem Defoe, and Reese Witherspoon. Lions Gate, 2000. Film.

Bean. Dir. Mel Smith. Perf. Rowan Atkinson and Peter MacNicol. Polygram, 1997. Film.

Blair, Elizabeth. (2010, May 24). “Walking on Sunshine”: Living on a Song. Retrieved November 1, 2010 from NPR Web site:

Daddy Day Care . Dir. Steve Carr. Perf. Eddie Murphy. Revolution, 2003. Film.

Frith, Simon. “Songs as Texts.” In Performing Rites: On the Value of Popular Music. Cambridge : Harvard University Press, 1996. Pp. 158-182.

——-. “Performance.” In Performing Rites: On the Value of Popular Music. Cambridge : Harvard University Press, 1996. Pp. 203-225

High Fidelity. Dir. Stephen Frears. Perf. John Cusack, Iben Hjejle, and Jack Black. Touchstone Pictures, 2000. Film.

Kassabian, Anahid. “How Music Works in Film.” In Hearing Film: Tracking

Identifications in Contemporary Hollywood. NY: Routledge, 2001. Pp. 37-60.

Katrina and the Waves. “Walking on Sunshine.” Katrina and the Waves. Columbia, 1985. MP3.

Longtime Companion. Dir. Norman René. Perf. Campbell Scott and Bruce Davison. Samuel Goldwyn, 1989. Film 

Look Who’s Talking. Dir. Amy Heckerling. Perf. Kirstie Alley, John Travolta, and Bruce Willis. TriStar, 1989. Film.

Master of Disguise. Dir. Perry Andelin Blake. Perf. Dana Carvey. Columbia Pictures, 2002. Film.

Moon. Dir. Duncan Jones. Perf. Sam Rockwell and Kevin Spacey. Sony Pictures Classics, 2009. Film.

New in Town. Dir. Jonas Elmer. Perf. Renee Zellweger and Harry Connick, Jr. United Artists, 2009. Film.

Raise Your Voice. Dir. Sean McNamara. Perf. Hilary Duff, David Keith, and Rita Wilson. New Line Cinema, 2004. Film.

The Secret of My Success. Dir. Herbert Ross. Perf. Michael J Fox and Helen Slater. Universal, 1987. Film.

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