Review of Before Sunrise (2005) by Brandon H — 13 Jun 2011

I once took a screenwriting class in college. The class was taught by somewhat of a film and theater Nazi, and he was obsessive and meticulous about his details. So I have a rough idea of how complex and difficult it is to make a movie from the ground up. You've got your screenplay that begins the whole thing. Then you need the bare bones of the structure: a producer to pay for the thing, a director, actors, lighting and camera equipment, a cinematographer to run those items, an editor. You need someone in charge of visual effects, sound, art direction, makeup, costumes, casting, music, stunts. For everything on the screen, and even many things off of it, you can point to one of hundreds of men and women standing behind the camera who is responsible.

Well "Before Sunrise" is a rare film that depends almost entirely on only two of those dozens of functions: the script, and the ability of two actors (Ethan Hawke and Julie Deply). Sure, there are other facets; someone had to decide what Ethan should wear. But it's truly an in frequent occurrence when a film's entire success is built singularly only dialogue and acting.

Many of you, even if you haven't seen the film, know the story already. The camera follows around a young American man named Jesse and a young French woman named Celine for 24 hours in Vienna. They meet on a train, Jesse convinces her to get off with him, and off they go for their now world-famous one-night-stand.

So there really is no "plot" to summarize. They meander. They see the sights. They talk philosophically about life and death. They just jive, man. There's one interesting scene where they bump into a street poet. The poet asks them to give him a word, any word. He'll write a poem including that word and then, if they like it, they can pay him whatever they feel he deserves. The word they cruelly give the poor poet is "milkshake," but the man's poem is surprisingly not stupid, like many made-for-the-film poems tend to be. I have an inkling there are rarely poets behind the camera on those sets.

The entire time we're wondering the same thing they're wondering in the back of their minds. Are they going to have sex? Are they going to exchange contact information? Is this going to become a long term thing? We think of these things because of how deep their connection seems to be, how compatible they are.

Frankly, as a writer, I'd be terrified to write this script if someone approached me with the idea. Every word is exposed. The film's life depends on those words. Richard Linklater, who wrote most of the script and also directed the film, sometimes dips into a bit of pretentiousness, sometimes overdevelops these character's histories (these two seem to dig up the perfect stories to tell for every conversation), but all in all you have to give him credit. For a movie that very simply follows two characters around with a camera for a day, there's not a single dull moment.