Film: Before Sunrise

Director: Richard Linklater
Genre: Drama
Source: USA (1995)
Rating: R
Location/Format: On Demand
Grade: A

"Film is a visual medium," I always tell my students, but sound has been a tool in the filmmaker's arsenal for nearly as long as the art form has existed, first through musical accompaniment, and then with the addition of sound effects and dialogue. It's easy to find the beauty in Richard Linklater's 1995 romance, with shots of Vienna at dusk, of early morning light shining in empty streets, of Jesse and Celine walking through the streets. But the real beauty of the film comes from the dialogue, from the richness of conversation that these two engage in. It is in the dialogue that the film shines most brightly, and it is the dialogue that makes me excited to see the next two films in the series.

A part of me thinks that if I had seen Before Sunrise when it came out in 1995, I might have ditched college and gone to wander through Europe, trying to meet beautiful strangers and read intelligent literature. Ethan Hawke's Jesse is a lost soul, in a lot of ways, posturing for Celine even while opening himself up as honestly as he can, and I think he represents a search for self and identity that is common to a certain type of young adult male--the type, for example, who would be drawn to this film. He is not proud, exactly, just assured in the way that only twentysomething men can be. He sees the romance and the mystery in life as clearly as he seems to see the faults of an older generation, of spurned loves, of himself. His journey seems to be geared towards a greater and more honest sense of himself. Celine challenges him even as she reveals herself to be as complex, as rich, and as interesting as he is, and I wonder if there's a part of Jesse that is surprised by the revelation that others have as much as depth as he himself feels. Julie Delpy really is perfect here, sexy without being overt, enigmatic while still being open, vibrant while still seeming real. Their connection feels real, feels sweet, feels hopeful, feels right.

Somehow it's that connection to another person--not just on a physical but on a spiritual level--that the film captures so well. Their conversations sometimes make me feel that my own are flat and uninspired, but at the same time they remind me that those connections are there to be had if we allow them to blossom. I wonder if that same connection would be as easy to find today when we are all so caught up in social media, in technology, in documenting and digesting our lives in bite-size pictures, tweets, and posts and missing out on the deeper possibilities of dialogue, of conversation, of discovering the worlds within someone else.

The film ends on such a strong note, that I wonder about the nine years in between this movie and its sequel. What happened to Jesse and Celine? Did they meet up? Did they lose touch after this one perfect night? What will bring them together again? Can you sustain that spark of life nine years later?

I can't wait to find out. In the meantime I want to relive these conversations, and rediscover a little more about myself in the process.