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Not even a decade has passed since Before Sunrise was
first released and yet seeing it now gives rise to conjecture as to how naive it might
seem to young people today, college kids like the film's two central characters. Looking
back to what seems a more innocent age (pre-GWB-NewSpeak), even after such a short time,
is such ingenuousness still possible?
Older folks looking at Before Sunrise likely will not identify
directly with its two young lovers, but might wax nostalgic for the guileless days of
youth, for the memories of an emotional mindset from their past, doubtlessly romanticized
as memories are wont to be by the passage of time.
Before Sunrise is surely both romance and romanticized. The
couple meet on a train from Budapest--he, Jesse (Ethan Hawke), an American headed for
Vienna and a flight home; she, Celine (Julie Delpy), a Frenchwoman, returning to Paris to
her studies at the Sorbonne. They're both sensitive, bright, articulate, and attractive
and they slide into first-date-type conversation with confidence and barely concealed
mutual attraction. This is decidedly not the "resistance and impediments to
be overcome" scenario of the traditional romantic comedy.
By the time the train reaches Vienna, Jesse is thoroughly caught up
with his charming companion and doesn't want their visit to end. He talks her into getting
off the train and spending the time with him until his plane leaves the next morning. She
readily agrees and the two set off on a tour of the city that gives director Richard
Linklater (Waking Life, The School of Rock) the
chance to provide glorious backgrounds of that glittering city--presented in a scrubbed
and idealized, i.e., romantic way.
They talk about all the expected things--careers, parents, aging and
mortality, Life and Death, ideals vs. reality, relationships and love. Much of the
chatting is predictable, but Linklater and his frequent co-writer Kim Krizan have an ear
for the way kids talk. Combined with the comfortably natural performances by the two leads
and adept direction, the dialogue is delivered with a sense of spontaneity, even
improvisation, which provides the impression of authenticity. And, if it occasionally
slips into banality, what student conversation doesn't?
In a fine nonverbal moment, the two stand in a closet-like listening
booth in a record store. Forced by the tight space into close physical contact,
conversation stopped by the music, they somewhat shyly eye each other, both clearly
interested and looking for contact, but each quickly turning away when becoming aware the
other is looking their way--momentary meetings of glances that are a mixture of
trepidation and desire.
They have a series of encounters (a palm reader, a panhandling poet)
calculated to stimulate their conversation; they finally kiss (she the initiator, clearly
the more sexually sophisticated and uninhibited) while on a ferris wheel. They somewhat
coyly play a game, pretending to talk on the telephone to other people, a way of allowing
themselves to say things about each other that they can't quite say directly. Throughout,
both Hawke (Snow Falling on Cedars,
Hamlet) and Delpy display the
unusual attribute of being able to listen, a significant plus in a film that is
so fully centered on conversation.
It all has a low-keyed charm, sustained by the appeal of the young
actors (Hawke was 25 at the time, easily passing for 20; Delpy's a year older). While the
couple get serious and philosophical in their courtship dance, Before Sunrise
maintains an awareness of their earnestness without itself putting on airs of profundity.
At the same time, Linklater never condescends to his characters. What might have become
pretentious and heavy manages to float on the delicious promise of young
romance--yearning, earnest, joyful and bittersweet.
- Arthur Lazere
