Despite whatever opinion you might have formed based on the contents of this site, I am not really much of a romantic.
Oh I’ll confess to recent rampant, unchecked ruminations on love and life, but I actually hold very little interest in idealized notions of desire. My most rapturous moments are rarely by candlelight, in a heart-shaped bed and typically don’t involve bubble-bath and rose petals (okay… maybe bubble-bath). I’m also largely reconciled with the fact that, generally, the boy doesn’t actually get the girl (or boy for that matter) in act three. The notion of romance is rendered even more disagreeable when distilled through the filter of most mainstream movies and music. Love-songs sell soda and most romantic comedies are neither romantic nor funny.
So why then all the online “moon, june and spooning”, Mr. Pointon? Well, even in rejecting the notion of grand romantic moments, I will concede to being a sucker for the small stuff. I’m always rendered utterly helpless by the beauty of quiet, intimate moments and consistently intoxicated by the esthetic perfection of body language. In my experience, beauty is not in the face, but in its expressions – its deft manipulation of light and shadow. Subtle gestures and the way they reveal (betray?) our love for each other are what truly stirs me – I guess I’m a unabashed sensualist struggling to become more of an an emotional realist.
I think this need to re-discover the quiet within the typically bombastic nature of our lives is fueling some terrific art as of late. And I for one, have never been more in-tuned to receive it. Hence my recent skew towards the artists who are this generation’s “pragmatic romantics”: Sam Beam, Elliot Smith, Colin Meloy, Sofia Coppala, Charlie Kaufman and of course the Andersons (both Wes and P.T.). They all share a prodigious ability to recognize and illustrate our struggle
to… just… fucking… connect
Okay that was a bit dramatic, but modern culture doesn’t offer us many opportunities for honest expressions of emotion. When we speak of love, we typically reach back in time to find the words; using the imagery and sounds of our past as signifiers of love. It’s as if romance is something that existed far before our time, and we revisit it’s historical documents and declarations to stir some sort of hidden collective memory. Contemporary attempts at prose and song that professes a simple “I Need You” are seen as the providence of the boys and girls in the black tees and chunky glasses and dismissed as “Emo”. Discussions of untraditional, non-romantic love (love of a friend, love of one’s self) can be even more disastrous.
It’s in this mindset that I find myself feeling immensely rewarded when I discover artists who seek to document “the quiet moments”. One such creative is filmmaker Richard Linklater. One of the defining cultural touchstones of my “Brand X” generational experience was his 1995 film “Before Sunrise”. Instead of draping it’s twenty-something protagonists in flannel or having them jump around ironically to “My Sharonna”, “Sunrise” took two people overflowing with ambition, heart (and more than a bit of youthful pretension) and luxuriously lingered on their conversations and the erotic possibilities of language. The decision to follow up that brief Parisian encounter nine years later could have been pure creative folly, but wondrously, Linklater’s latest, “Before Sunset” elegantly expands upon the beautiful mystery between Jesse and Celine.
Unexpectedly reunited, Jessie (Ethan Hawke) and Celine (Julie Delpy) cautiously scope each other’s emotional terrain through ardent, yet wary darts of conversation. As we follow them in “real time” through the streets of Paris, the movie articulates their character’s conflict between their ideal selves (husband, father, girlfriend, activist) and their true selves (intimately connected and continually drawn to each other). As they grow most desperate to make the most of their brief time together, the movie deepens and become more beautiful as each moment passes. Throughout, their glances, laughter and gestures reveal more about their love for each other than their conversation ever could. The movie is brave in its intimacy and its refusal to look away from the unapologetic, awkward yearnings of it’s protagonists.
This sense of continued bravery in the face of a world that allow scant time for reflection or expression, fuels a heartbreaking performance by Julie Delpy. She locates the intelligence, darkness and heartbreak in her character, but also illuminates her performance with a wonderfully honest and playful sexuality. Disappointed in much of what her life has become, she continue to pay attention to, and derive much pleasure from, the small details. Watch for the utter seductive bliss that radiates from her as she slowly dances around her apartment to Nina Simone. You won’t see a better performance all year.
All of this is filmed in carefully planned, patiently measured shots that artfully comment on the transitional nature of the character’s personalities and relationship. Every moment of this film feels alive and truthful. The film moves from strength to strength, until it’s last 10 minutes approaches a mesmerizing state of grace. Never before has the wall between myself and a film disappeared so completely – the last moments of the film are a rarity – utterly transcendent.
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From the soundtrack to “Before Sunset” and the album “Julie Delpy”:
Julie Delpy – A Waltz For A Night (192 kbps mp3/3.6 mb)
From the Ivy album “Long Distance”
(used for the film’s trailer, but not appearing in the movie):
Ivy – Edge Of The Ocean (128 kbps mp3/3.9 mb)
