Franchise Friday: Before Sunset (2004)
Jesse and Celine continue to walk the walk.
Is Before Sunset the best sequel ever made?
Richard Linklater’s follow-up to Before Sunrise builds on its predecessor, deepening the characters and giving the events of that night in Vienna a new layer of wistfulness. Its dialogue is charming, funny and thoughtful, and it builds tension so effectively that I’m still blindsided by the emotional wallop of its final two sequences. It’s a romance where the two leads barely touch each other, and it ends on one of the greatest final beats in movie history.
It’s a masterpiece, easily one of my five favorite films, and it shouldn’t even exist.
Another chance encounter
Before Sunrise didn’t need a sequel, and no one expected one. The film made just over $5 million upon its release in 1995; a cult favorite, but not much other traction. Hawke and Delpy went on to more prestigious projects, and Linklater continued to experiment, directing SubUrbia, The Newton Boys, Waking Life and Tape before having his biggest mainstream hit, School of Rock.
But Jesse and Celine apparently never were far from his mind. The 2000 animated film Waking Life, a rambling, plot-free exploration of philosophy and dreams, features a brief sequence with Jesse and Celine lying in bed, musing about dreams and memories. I’ve always felt that was an appropriate follow-up to Before Sunrise, given that the film ends with both of them falling asleep on their respective journeys, perhaps only to meet each other again in their dreams.
I don’t know that anyone expected or asked for a continuation and, indeed, the idea of reuniting Jesse and Celine seems almost antithetical to the open-ended nature of that first film. The two leave pledging to meet again in six months, but the beauty of the film is that it leaves their future uncertain. Are they destined to be together, or was this one night a special moment lost to their youth, a beautiful memory they’ll return to repeatedly as they get older?
Linklater, Delpy and Hawke understand the inherent danger in revisiting this story, and part of the beauty of Before Sunset is how it maintains the romanticism and idealism of its predecessor, and uses it as an anchor. Visually, the film ties the two together before we’ve seen either of the characters; Before Sunrise ended with images of the places Jesse and Celine had visited during their night. Before Sunset opens with images of the places Jesse and Celine will visit during their afternoon in Paris, calling to them before they’d laid eyes on each other.
The film provides a plausible reason for Jesse and Celine to meet again, even as it acknowledges that its very existence risks undercutting its power. Jesse has written a book about that night in Vienna and is on a tour throughout Europe. Not only does this bring him to Paris, where Celine is able to attend, but the opening scene allows Linklater and his cast to comment on the importance of the first film’s open-ended nature, and how our thoughts about what might happen next reveal our own innate idealism or cynicism. The question of how much romantic hope we carry into our adulthood is a key theme, as both Jesse and Celine have been influenced by their night together, and it’s impacted their expectations for all future relationships.
The film leaves the bookshop shortly after and falls into a familiar pattern of following Jesse and Celine as they walk around Paris during the afternoon. The script dances around questions fans of the first film had likely wondered about — did they meet again in six months? Did they have sex that night in Vienna? — and provides plausible answers. There’s a built-in urgency, as Jesse has to take a flight back home in a few hours, and the film unfolds in real time.
Hawke and Delpy have matured as actors in the nine years between the films, and their interactions are more natural, lending this film the same improvisatory feel as the first. But once again, that belies the smart, thoughtful script Linklater and his actors composed for this (which was nominated for an Academy Award). Linklater’s camera is never obtrusive, but he’s canny about when to focus on one actor or keep both in the shot, and there are subtle mirrorings of shots from the first film. Despite the film’s casual nature, there are moments of slight choreography that pack a major punch; Celine simply reaching out her hand to touch Jesse and pulling away during an emotional moment near the end hits like a sledgehammer.
Where Before Sunrise’s conversations kept returning to the fleeting nature of time, Before Sunset’s dialogue is often focused on how those fleeting moments can alter the course of our lives, for good and for ill. The romanticism of the first film gives way to weary resignation and regret in this one; coursing through everything is the question of whether they’ll be able to make right what went wrong.
Haunted by a moment
“Memory is a wonderful thing if you don’t have to deal with the past.”
Celine speaks that line wistfully late in the film, and it’s the theme of the entire movie. Before Sunrise was about how one brief moment can be packed with magic and meaning. Before Sunset is about how those moments haunt us, creating defenses and shifting our outlook and nature on life, love and relationships.
Although Jesse and Celine are both cordial when they meet and their initial conversations focus on politics and career, it quickly becomes clear that their time in Vienna never left them. For Jesse, this is obvious from the start; he’s written an entire book about the evening. Celine initially appears a bit more unaffected by it, amused by his remembrances and chiding him about over-idealizing the evening. And yet, as the two further connect and let down their guards, it appears that they both have been so impacted by that night that they’ve structured their respective relationships around guarding themselves from experiencing loss again. For Jesse, this means entering into and enduring an unhappy marriage because it’s the responsible thing to do. For Celine, it means erecting walls and preventing others from getting too close; it’s why she’s in a relationship with someone who regularly has to leave.
If Before Sunrise was about the magic of connections, Before Sunset is about the rarity of them — and how they don’t disconnect as easily as we might assume. The film’s first half is casual and the conversations thrum with the usual Linklater cleverness and depth, Jesse and Celine keep it surface level, although their reactions give them away (Jesse’s face when Celine takes her hair down in the coffee shop and Celine’s reaction at learning he did show up in Vienna six months later both tell us the night still clings deeply to them).
The script cannily grows the character to show how their interaction with the other over one summer night has changed them, even if they don’t realize it. In Before Sunrise, it was Celine who talked of being a writer and crafting short stories. Here, Jesse is still ruminating on creative projects about time — a 24-hour public-access show from the first film has given way to a novel about a man reflecting on his life while his daughter dances in this one — and he seems to be the more hopeful and open to mystery, connection and magic, the things Celine spoke about nine years earlier. Celine has adopted his pragmatism and cynicism, and her naivety has given way to a deft sense of humor. The two have imprinted on each other in ways they don’t even realize, and the relief they feel in re-establishing their rapport is palpable.
As they realize their connection is still vital, the film becomes a collection of musings on lost moments and regrets. Jesse believes he subconsciously wrote his book to have a chance to ask Celine why she never showed up six months later. He’s a father and husband, but he’s trapped in a marriage he knows he’s failing, feeling like he’s “running a daycare with someone he used to date.” He says he thought he saw Celine on a corner in New York; she counters that she was living in the city at the time. Jesse keeps finding ways to extend their time together; a quick stop on a boat here, a car ride home there, a walk up to Celine’s apartments. They never mention seeing whether this afternoon has a future, but it’s the unspoken suggestion behind every turn down a corner or duck down an alleyway.
The film takes a turn in its final 20 minutes, beginning with the car ride back to Celine’s apartment. It’s in this sequence that the emotions roiling under the surface explode out. Celine angrily exclaims that Jesse’s book “stirred shit up,” reminding her of the youthful romanticism she once had that she now hides behind walls. Jesse tearfully dreams he’s had of Celine passing by on a train platform or lying beside him in bed. That night in Vienna has never left them; in fact, it’s infected them, and it haunts them. And they encounter each other in an impossible situation, realizing they still have a strong connection but that one of them is married with obligations on the other side of the world. But what are the consequences if they let each other go?
Baby, you are going to miss that plane
The film’s final passage is masterful, every moment a push forward for the two they never comment on until the last seconds.
The car pulls up to Celine’s apartment. They hug goodbye. Jesse makes one more delay, telling his driver to wait so he can walk Celine to her door. But there’s an unspoken truth behind the moment: He’s not getting back into the car.
Jesse and Celine go through the motions of pretending like the stroll to her apartment is a casual goodbye. But as he meets her cat and neighbors, we realize Jesse’s settling in and making himself part of Celine’s life. The smile on her face as she chats with her neighbors (Delpy’s real-life mother and father) betray how aware she is of this fact. As they walk in silence up the stairs, the camera lingers on their faces. They’re getting closer and closer to a moment of no return, and they know it. They can’t say it — she can’t tell him to leave his wife and be with her; he can’t tell her he’s going to abandon his kid — but they’re both heading in the same direction.
They get to Celine’s apartment. She offers him tea, but she’s still reminding him he has a plane to catch. Jesse sits on the couch. He requests she play him a song on her guitar; was she planting the seeds for this moment earlier when she mentioned she was a songwriter? She sings a waltz that is revealed to be about their night in Vienna, complete with his name plugged into it. How long has she waited to sing that song to him? Both of them look happier and more relaxed than they have been all movie. Jesse picks some music; Celine talks about seeing the singer, Nina Simone, in concert. She does an impression.
“Baby, you are going to miss that plane.”
“I know.”
In this moment, the film effectively brings back to life the magic and romance of the first film; and Jesse and Celine still get no closer than a hug goodbye. But their comfort with each other, the relaxed way Jesse slips into Celine’s life, the lack of self-consciousness she displays in making him feel at home tell us that neither of them is going to let this connection go. It’s pure chemistry and romance at this point, and Linklater chooses the perfect moment to fade out.
It wasn’t until I left the theater that I considered the moral implications beneath the ending and how Linklater tidily removes our discomfort. For me, abandoning your spouse and child is one of the lowest things you can do. Marriage might be hard, but I couldn’t reconcile Jesse’s decision to break his commitment to pursue someone he’s met twice. Even today, watching the movie, it’s easy to see how what is presented as the height of romanticism could just be an escape from hardship that will eventually bite Jesse and Celine down the road, when the romance fades and real life intrudes, not to mention the ugliness of a divorce and custody battles.
By ending the film with Jesse and Celine still casually talking, with no overt romantic displays of affection, we can imagine the ending we want. Do Jesse and Celine stay together and engage in a hot and heavy affair? Does Jesse realize the gravity of his marriage and obligations and rush home after finishing his tea? Do they have a short-lived fling before he heads back to the States? The film leaves us to our own conclusions, and with the stakes as high as they are, it’s the perfect place to leave it. The messiness doesn’t have to intrude on the romance; we don’t have to imagine Jesse as someone who would abandon his wife and child, or Celine as a home-wrecker. Linklater, Hawke and Delpy somehow again leave us in that place of perfect suspense and ambiguity from the first film, and to answer any of our questions would, to quote Jesse, “take the piss out of the whole thing.”
But, of course, nine years later, they decided to tempt fate again. And next week, we’ll talk about the miracle that is Before Midnight.