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Things
to Come
Jeff Reichert on Before Sunset
What a movie Before
Sunset could have been if only Before Sunrise
had never existed. Calling Linklater’s latest a masterpiece
still feels pretty comfortable, but imagine for a second
the implications of Before Sunset as a standalone
piece. Imagine a filmmaker who brings two actors in
the flush of their early twenties to Vienna in 1994
and asks them to play out for his camera the quintessential
one night stand: two strangers from different countries
meet on a train, tour Vienna, and fall in love, all
in the span of 14 or so hours. A chance accident ruins
their planned meeting six months later, and they never
meet again. It’s an experience so monumental that the
memory of this brief time emotionally cripples their
characters (call them Jesse and Céline) for the rest
of their lives. Imagine that all along, these two actors
and their director know that they’re only creating this
Viennese encounter to collect a brief few frames for
use in another film, to be set in Paris, but
not to be made until all parties involved are nearly
a decade older. This film is to be a document, in brief,
of the fallout from that long ago night, and the quick
flashes of boundlessly enthusiastic youth they’re capturing
are planned as harrowing counterpoint to images of these
two people in 2004, both of whom carry only a faint
glimmer of those earlier selves. The juxtapositions
are intended to hit with the force of a jackhammer (and
succeed). The changes wrought on faces by those ten
years are mere opening volley for the even more striking
changes in outlook that unspool during the film’s 80
real-time minutes, where each second hangs heavy with
the weight of palpable sadness. The force of those few
frames excavated for use in the present casts a shadow
over the entirety of Before Sunset, rendering
this filmmaker’s radical experiment in time, carried
out with Kubrickian obsession over a ten-year span,
and executed in the “real” wholly successful.
Of course, Before Sunrise does exist, sullying
somewhat my vision of pristine laboratory-like experimentalism,
but not by much. It’s nearly impossible to grapple with
Before Sunset without considering its younger
half, but regardless of your feelings towards either
film individually, the diptych they create represents
a unit almost without precedent in cinema (for reality-based
versions, check out Robb Moss’s 2003 documentary The
Same River Twice which captures these life-time
changes with similar wistfulness, and Michael Apted’s
-Up films). For all its lush, on the sleeve romanticism,
Before Sunrise left me mostly cold, in large
part due to my dislike of Ethan Hawke’s performance
and my suspicion of extended conversation in which idealistic
youths prattle on at length about the “big themes.”
Somehow, listening to Jesse and Céline from 1994 talk
about what could be didn’t affect me nearly as
much as their older selves reminiscing over what had
and, could have been, which might say more about
the person writing this than it does either of the films.
Before Sunrise felt too eager to please, too
date-ready (read Erik Syngle’s piece elsewhere in the
issue), and for all that its artful conception allows
it to transcend, the whole enterprise feels fairly minor.
Before Sunset manages the neat trick of being
an anti-date movie (it’s all about getting old, folks)
wholly suffused with an honest romanticism sorely lacking
in contemporary cinema. A bittersweet mixture of love
and mortality, each smile or laugh it earns from the
audience is hard won. And can we even guess if the ending
is happy or sad or both? Perhaps it’s this indeterminacy
that makes me love the sequel to a movie I found disposable.
Where I can explain what Before Sunrise is, to
capture the essence of Before Sunset is impossible—in
the mere act of observing, of trying to quantify, the
observed object shifts, moves, floats, transforms into
something else. Examine more intently, and it only becomes
even harder to pin down. Look from another vantage point
and you’re likely to see something completely different,
yet equally valid. Perhaps the less actually said
about it the better. |