Franchise Friday: Before Midnight (2013)
One last walk with Jesse and Celine
As I wrote last week, Before Sunset ends perfectly. After Jesse and Celine have spent an afternoon in each other’s company, it leaves the two of them in that Paris apartment, cutting away before providing any definitive hints about what happens next.
It’s a great limbo to leave the couple in, allowing them to be together and happy, if only for a moment, without having to deal with the messiness that is sure to come. Truth be told, I never liked to consider what happened next, as I hated the idea of Jesse abandoning his wife and child to hook up with an old flame, but I also disliked the idea that Jesse could bear to separate from Celine again. Before Sunset’s ending allowed me to live in that moment, with no romantic deflation or moral quandaries.
Which is why I thought I would be perfectly fine if Richard Linklater, Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy never revisited Jesse and Celine. They had tempted fate already by continuing the story after Before Sunrise’s similarly ambiguous finale; surely a third movie would be flying too close to the sun.
And yet, Before Midnight is a miracle movie. This third entry adds depth and drama to Celine and Jesse’s story, entering into the complications that arose from their choices in the previous film and weaponizing the romanticism of the first two entries to create a more emotionally complex and, at times, tense look at modern relationships. As Before Sunset did, it makes the earlier films better while standing alongside them to complete one of cinema’s greatest trilogies.
Together
Perhaps knowing that audiences would understandably be rabid to know what happened after that Parisian afternoon, Linklater withholds giving an answer for the first five minutes or so, opening instead on Jesse at a Greece airport, sending his teenage son, Henry, back to the States to be with his mother. We learn that they’ve spent the summer together and it’s been a good one, and the lingering look on Jesse’s face as Henry boards the plane speaks volumes about how much this boy means to him.
Jesse walks out of the airport and heads to his car, where Celine is waiting for them. Throughout the film, small details of what happened after Before Sunset are doled out. Jesse stayed with Celine and divorced his wife, ultimately writing a sequel to his novel detailing their reunion. Jesse and Celine have twin girls and now live in Paris, although it’s mentioned they had a brief but ill-fated time in the States.
The film is broken into three extended sequences, the first being a 15-minute unbroken shot through the windshield as they drive through Greece back to their vacation villa. Hawke and Delpy easily slip back into their rapport and create a lived-in relationship. Jesse and Celine aren’t talking about philosophy, politics and yearning; their conversation tends to the more immediate issues of day-to-day life, such as whether they should wake their daughters up to see the Greek ruins, Jesse’s desire to be a better father to Henry, and a potential job opportunity for Celine. It’s the banal stuff couples navigate each day, but it also carefully seeds the themes and conflicts that drive the film.
The third film is a marked shift from the romantic idealism of the first and second. In Before Sunrise, Jesse and Celine’s time together had the whiff of magic, an accidental encounter that spilled out into a stolen evening. Before Sunrise might have found the two more regretful and guarded, but their reconnection provided a jolt of opportunity, a second chance with someone they thought had slipped through their fingers. Before Midnight asks if that magic can be sustained for a lifetime; the answer is, probably not.
Jesse and Celine have a famous love story, not just among real-life film lovers but in the world of the Before series. Jesse has written two best-sellers about their time together, and people ask them to regale them with the story of their meeting (which Celine has grown tired of). The unpacking of that romanticism and the ephemeral nature of love is the topic of discussion during a lunch they attend in the film’s second sequence, in which Jesse and Celine talk about relationships with a group of couples of different ages.
For the film’s first half, Before Midnight feels right in line with its predecessors. Hawke and Delpy have matured into talented actors in the nearly 20 years they’ve inhabited these roles, and they recapture the interplay and humor between Jesse and Celine fully. It’s a joy to listen to them banter and joke, and the two are natural when slipping into discussions about the minutiae of everyday life or deeper musings about relationships. If the saga feels wobbly at all, it’s only in the attempt to widen its scope and bring in other characters; while engaging, the lunch sequence might be the only portion of the film where the illusion of improvisation slips away to reveal the screenplay bones underneath. But after some jibes about the differences between the sexes and whether relationships are built to last, the film sends Jesse and Celine on their own again for a long walk to a hotel their friends have reserved for them for the evening.
Tired
The truth about long-term relationships is that the magic of those first fleeting dates doesn’t last, and after a while, weariness sets in. When kids come into play, it’s expedited. None of this is new knowledge, of course, but it’s something every couple is surprised to discover when it happens to them. As Jesse and Celine traverse the back roads and coastal towns of Greece (this is easily the most gorgeous film in the trilogy), they remark about how long it’s been since they’ve been able to just walk and talk together in a foreign city.
If the story of their meeting has inspired the readers of Jesse’s books, those encounters in Vienna and Paris have haunted and, in some ways infected, their relationship, setting a standard that day-to-day life cannot hope to live up to and constantly reminding them of the days when their relationship was not tied up in childcare, navigating the messes of prior relationships or considering the impact of a job offer to their family.
The walk through Greece is one of the film’s highlights, playfully romantic, building on our knowledge of the last two films, and hinting at just enough tension beneath the surface to hint at where the film’s final act might go. Jesse and Celine still flirt, but they’re aware of the distance that inevitably occurs with time. Just as Jesse said in the first film, the little things about each other are what drive them nuts, and the differences that created sparks in the first films are now annoyances that can build into a fight or cause them to feel isolated even in proximity (“sometimes I feel like I’m breathing oxygen and you’re breathing helium,” Celine says). The two young lovers from the first films are still in there, but they’re also run down from the mileage; they’ve heard all of the other’s stories, are familiar with their games. There’s still love, but it’s not the rushing, overwhelming connection of their youth. It’s the steady knowledge that comes from doing life together.
Watching this with a decade of marriage behind me, I relate to this film more than any film in the franchise. My wife and I have two children. We love them deeply, but we’re also aware of how the needs of daily life and the requirements of career, bills and other obligations make those moments of connection so rare. When we can steal away for a night or a weekend just by ourselves, we’re reminded of that connection and romanticism, but always just below the surface are the stressors and complications of daily living. The highest praise I can give Hawke and Delpy, who once again co-wrote the script, is that they bring this weight to the characters without letting the film drag. Their banter is snappy and thoughtful as ever, their relationship hinting at years of stories and secrets we are not privy to. In twenty years, they’ve created one of the most vivid screen relationships, and after three films, we not only like them, but we’re invested in them. Indeed, as I wrote about Before Sunrise, the first two films shaped my view of what I wanted in romantic relationships. I like to catch up with these characters because these movies have helped shape my view of relationships.
Which is why, on the first viewing, the film’s third act felt almost like an act of trauma.
At war
Jesse and Celine head to their hotel, and the evening starts off fine. They attempt to make love, but Jesse’s son calls and interrupts. Suddenly, the minor inconveniences and stressors that were just below the surface come simmering to light, and the cracks in the relationship widen, and the film’s final half-hour is almost entirely a barn-burner of an argument between the two.
The film delves into the mess created when Jesse left his wife for Celine, and the tension it’s caused as Jesse attempts to be a good father. Celine is considering a work offer that would keep them tied in Europe, while Jesse wants to move closer to his son. The issues are compounded by their timeliness; Henry has just gone home that morning and, of course, being closer to him is on Jesse’s mind. Likewise, Celine’s job offer is new and fresh, presenting an opportunity she’s excited about. As happens in any relationship, both are at a place where their desire means the other may have to lose something, and they erupt.
Hawke and Delpy find a rhythm to the argument that gets heated and ugly. They understand the ebb and flow of flights, how they’ll simmer down and reach a point of near-reconciliation before someone tries to get the last word or makes an off-handed comment that sends things into nuclear mode. They scream and shout, they say hurtful things, critique their sexual technique, and each accuses the other of infidelity at one point; a remark that cuts, given the awareness that Jesse did cheat on his previous wife with the woman he’s with now.
It’s fraught, one of the most masterful scenes I’ve seen in the last 20 years, and nothing feels gratuitous. Every accusation hurled and every bone of contention has its roots in character traits we’ve seen throughout the last two films. Celine accuses Jesse of abandoning her to be a writer while her singing has languished, and Jesse shoots back, “I f—ked up my life because of how you sing,” and we immediately remember that waltz that was so winning in Before Sunset. Jesse throws his intellect into her face and Celine responds with angry, emotional recriminations, and none of it feels false because Jesse’s smugness and Celine’s passion have been so well-defined over two decades. It’s just that what was used as a point of attraction in the first two films is now wielded like a weapon.
It’s brave work, particularly for Delpy, who spends the first half of the argument topless. It’s a risky endeavor to take two characters who have, over two films, been the faces of romantic idealism and hope, and let them be ugly, petty and abrasive. And yet, it works. The script knows just when to de-escalate the situation enough to give the audience breathing room, and there are still jokes peppered in that deflate the tension. It’s a move that couldn’t work without two previous films to flesh out the characters; Jesse and Celine are real in a way few other characters are, and that roundedness means we understand their frustrations and their bad behavior.
When the film was released, I remember several of my friends who were fans of the first two films responding negatively toward this movie. How dare Linklater put these two characters through the wringer like this? But the film is about how reality must seep into all relationships, and how long-term love is often fraught with moments of passion and connection but also obligation and even conflict. It’s not about avoiding those negative moments as much as it is enduring them and loving in spite of them. And, as with all of the Before movies, it’s worth remembering this this is only a glimpse of a moment with these characters; is this fighting normal, or is it an anomaly brought on by stress, conflict and emotion? Could the same change of scenery that primed Jesse and Celine for romance also be what ignites conflict in them down the road?
It’s easy to think that Before Midnight is less romantic than its predecessors, but in a way, it might be the most bravely romantic. It’s easy to fall in love with someone during a romantic night in Vienna or when your reconnect with them in Paris when your marriage isn’t doing so great. It’s harder to walk back to someone when they’ve walked out on you; to hear them out when they come back to you with a joke after you’ve just spent a night screaming at each other.
And that’s where Before Midnight ends up. Celine has left the hotel and found a cafe table to sit at on the shore. Jesse walks up to her and, as he did in Before Sunrise, role plays as a time traveler, convincing her to come back. “If you want true love, then this is it. This is real life. It’s not perfect, but it’s real.” And there’s just the briefest hint of reconciliation before the camera pulls back and the film ends. And, once again, it’s the perfect place to end the film on and, perhaps, the story of Jesse and Celine.
After Before?
It’s been nine years since Before Midnight, which, given the sequels’ rhythm, means this year would seem to be time for a fourth film. But nothing has been announced. Hawke’s dance card appears full (he’s appearing in this spring’s horror film The Black Phone, Riann Johnson’s Knives Out sequel, and finally entering the MCU with MoonKnight on Disney+). Linklater just finished shooting the Netflix film Apollo 10 ½ and is booked up with both a John Briniley biopic as well as another Boyhood-esque long-term endeavor, adapting Sondheim’s Merrily We Roll Along over the course of 20 years. And Delpy has recently talked about retirement, and said that a fourth Before film was discussed but dropped when they couldn’t find a satisfying story.
I don’t think we’re really done with Jesse and Celine. I don’t think there’s some surprise release coming this year (although the small scale of these films could make that possible). But I think at some point, as Hawke, Delpy and Linklater find the thread for something new about these characters, they’ll eventually be revisited. Maybe it’s about Celine and Jesse navigating co-parenting post breakup. Maybe we’ll get to see the two age into old lovers, looking back on their lives or celebrating their children’s wedding. I’ve always thought the perfect end for this story was to close on Celine as an old lady, going to sleep, drawing back to Celine’s thoughts from the first film.
But if this is the last we see of the characters, this is as fine an ending point as any. Yes, it’s an ambiguous ending, but there’s been enough of a truce called between the two in that point where the ending can be read as a reconciliation and we can imagine Jesse and Celine go on happily with their relationship. Others can read the film’s fraught final act as a confirmation that long-term love can’t last, and they can imagine a breakup. As with the other films, Before Midnight asks audiences to examine whether they’re optimists or pessimists when it comes to love, and by now the saga has made the full arc from idealism to realism in a way that feels like the story has reached a logical ending point (at least for what the audience gets to see). And I can’t imagine what more there is to say, and I don’t want a sequel just for the sake of it (at the beginning of the pandemic, I read someone suggesting a Zoom-set Before movie, and just, no).
But then again, I’m roughly the age Jesse and Celine are when Before Midnight fades out. I have a lot more to learn about life, love and relationships. And maybe there’s a good story of old-age love to come. And if there is, I’ll be first in line.
Previous Franchise Fridays in this series:
Next up in Franchise Fridays: With Matt Reeves’ The Batman just a month away, we’re going to look back at the first wave of Bat-movies, from Tim Burton through Joel Schumacher.