by
Julien Faddoul
**** (4 stars)
d – Richard Linklater
w – Richard Linklater, Julie Delpy, Ethan
Hawke (Based on the Characters Created
by Richard Linklater, Kim Krazan)
ph – Christos Voudouris
ad – Anna Georgiadou
m – Graham Reynolds
ed – Sandra Adair
cos – Vasileia Rozana
p – Christos V. Konstantakopoulos, Richard
Linklater, Sara Woodhatch
Cast: Ethan Hawke, Julie Delpy, Xenia
Kalogeropoulou, Walter Lassally, Ariane Labed, Anna Yiannis Papadopoulos,
Athina Rachel Tsangari, Panos Koronis
My favourite sound in the world is the sound of my
brother laughing. He doesn’t laugh very often. Admittedly, he only laughs when
he feels something is genuinely funny – a rare and beautiful trait. I am not
interested in any kind of psychoanalysis as to why I hold the sound so dear.
I’m sure there are very simple and obvious reasons, but why do they need to be
articulated? I know why I love it and love him (and vice versa), so why would
anyone else care? I’m glad and grateful.
In Richard Linklater’s 1995 film Before Sunrise, Jesse (Ethan Hawke), a
23-year-old American man and Celine (Julie Delpy), a 23-year-old French woman,
meet on a train passing through Vienna. They talk. In fact, they get off at
Vienna and spend the entire night talking. One of their topics of conversation
involves a story Jesse tells Celine from his youth about seeing the ghost of
his dead grandmother. He didn’t care that no one believed him because he knew what
he saw. He was glad and he was grateful. In Richard Linklater’s 2004 film Before Sunset, the two rekindle after 9
years. This time, they have a single, unbroken 80 minute conversation as they
wander through Paris. Both films end on ambiguous notes and are clearly
influenced by French New Wave films of the 60s and early 70s, particularly the
works of Eric Rohmer.
Something else I am uninterested in is how Richard
Linklater, Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy make movies. Their magic is their
business. But I imagine the process is like sculpture. A block of beauty is
whittled and carved until only what is essential remains. However, the reason why they make these movies is obvious
and never has it been more apparent than in the latest edition, 9 years later
again. Where most filmmakers are motivated by indulgence, these three are
motivated by generosity; generosity toward both the characters and the
audience. This is an even rarer and more beautiful trait.
Before Midnight is a perfect movie. It
is not the most original or most unique or most dramatic or most hilarious or most joyous.
It’s not the most anything, really. But it is perfect because only what is
essential is there. The same way Tokyo
Story (1953) or Yi Yi (2000) or Sweet Smell of Success (1957) is perfect; not a line or a frame
should be added or edited. One feels scenes pass through one’s body, like
phrases of music, and nothing diverts one from seeing and hearing and feeling
exactly what is intended. It is rich, gorgeous, intense, funny and a
breathtaking experience for the mainstream moviegoer to have in 2013. It is a
brilliant – brilliant! – film and the best of the trilogy.
The film presents itself in five uncategorized
parts. Celine and Jesse have spent the last 9 years since the second film
together as a couple. They live in Paris and have born a pair of twin girls.
But when we meet them they are on holiday in Crete, Greece. The first section
involves Jesse escorting his son (from a previous marriage) at the airport to
fly back to America. Section 2 is a long, uninterrupted, Kiarostami-esque take
of Jesse and Celine in a car. Section 3 in an indulgent, Socratic dinner with
three other Greek couples. One couple is married, one are old friends and one
is a pair of young lovers. The fourth section is the most like the previous
films: Jesse and Celine walk and talk, this time through Cretan streets. The
final section takes place in a hotel that was booked for them as a gift by one
of the couples. These five sections are loosely connected with tissue scenes of
talk and touring.
Funnily, this time round, the film I was most
reminded of was Jean-Luc Godard’s Contempt (1963).
See them both and you’ll know why. As we weave in and out of these
conversations, philosophical queries are explored. Is a couple one entity or
two separate existences? Does love mean changing one’s life to suit the other?
If one is calm and rational does that make one correct? Is antagonism
unsupportive? If you are looking for these questions to be answered, look
elsewhere. The splendour of Before
Midnight – or any of the three films – is in witnessing the journey not the
destination.
Before Midnight goes into deeper,
scarier waters than the previous two films, but what is so exquisite about this
trilogy is that it coincides with life’s passage. Being in one’s forties is a
much deeper ocean to swim in. Mr Hawke and Ms Delpy both give wonderful
performances that only overwhelm when trying to dissect how they were pulled
off. Mr Linklater has insisted for many years now that all the films were
carefully planned and scripted; no improvisation. With this third film, he
handles it all like a true master.
We love Jesse and Celine and every little gesture
or unsolicited remark takes our heart through an emotional rollercoaster, even
in single shots. The final shot, for instance, is one of these. Due to basic
film grammar, we know the shot when it arrives. So, every single piece of
movement that occurs penetrates us as if we were actually standing beside the
characters. It’s too private. I love these characters, and suddenly not having
them in my life anymore, simply because Mr Linklater decides to roll closing
credits, devastated me. The only thing I could do was purchase another ticket
and have the experience all over again. Which I did.
No comments:
Post a Comment