Before Sunrise and Falling in Love With Strangers

Chances are if you’ve spent any extended period of time in the room of a film major, or a pretentious art school attendee of any kind, you’ve been made to sit quietly and appreciate their Criterion box set of The Before Trilogy. I say this with full humility and self-awareness as my own copy stares back at me from across the room. Well, maybe not full self-awareness, I still own it. But, why is it that we all seem to collectively own and agree upon the sanctity of this particular trilogy? There’s the obvious: critical acclaim, Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy are a bisexual's dream cast, and I think we’re all a little obsessed with the idea of love at first sight. However, there’s also something inherently attractive about pieces of media, films especially, that take place over just one day.

I won’t make some broad sweeping statement about these oh-so-very unprecedented times, but I will say that every day feels like a year and months pass by faster than some of the more memorable hours of my childhood. Part of this is what it’s like to be trapped inside with so few options, but more than that I think it might just be growing up and experiencing the passage of time in a new way. When we put on a movie we get to live through days, months, and sometimes years of a life. The most boring and mundane parts are omitted and we’re left with only the truly special, shining moments that make for the best one-liners. So, I guess it’s natural to want to take those perfect moments and distill them into an hour and a half to two hours. But, films that take place over a contained amount of time get to be even more particular about the moments they portray. It could be a conversation and meditation about life that never ends, or it could be a neck-breaking anxiety nightmare of the worst time of someone’s life. However, they all have one thing in common. One thing that is what draws us to them. They’re relationship-driven. So, let’s take a look at Before Sunrise, a film all about people wandering around looking for someone to connect with. 

In his 1995 film, Richard Linklater does not put up a front with any particular premise or have a countdown to a terrible fate, outside of the lovers parting, to frame his story. Two strangers decide to get off a train in Vienna and spend one night together wandering the streets and having the kind of conversations that make you wonder if Linklater ever really said that to someone in real life. However, they’re the kind of conversations most of us wish we were having. The film is unashamedly romantic, and while the characters spend their time being self-aware and dissecting their self-awareness the film is not overly critical or embarrassed by its goal and how it’s perceived. It’s the kind of night people write songs about, and that makes for a compelling reason as to why we all own it on DVD. 

Time is limited, they only have until sunrise when Ethan Hawke’s character must catch a plane back to the U.S. and they may never see each other again, but that’s half of the allure. There is something so safe and comforting about opening up to someone you never have to see again. The way time is experienced by the viewer throughout the movie is heightened, of course, but simultaneously rings true. The audience is not made to live through every minute of the night but is still allowed to sit in prolonged shots with few to no cuts of the two characters simply talking. This patience is not typically what people come to the movies for, but it’s one of the more accurate ways I’ve seen the passage of time portrayed on film. The film has a unique opportunity in that it can be extremely life-like and skirt documentary territory in its quest to show what it’s like to watch the minutes of a day ticking by. On the other hand, sometimes the most accurate reflections of time are those few seconds before someone kisses you for the first time that somehow feels like years. Before Sunrise gives us an entire movie full of moments just like that. It walks the line between soliloquy and love story which is how most people experience most of their lives. 

Thus far this has sounded as though I am simply singing the praises of a movie that has already had its praises sung by people who know more about it than I do. So, don’t worry, there is a caveat coming. While I love this movie and oftentimes wish I could curl up inside it and live there, it did not do much to help my hopeless romantic tendencies. My tendencies that tell me love at first sight exists, and that spending your life carrying the hopes of the night you meet someone is a sustainable course of action. Unfortunately, it’s not. Obviously, it was not Linklater’s job to curb the misguided ideals of my childhood, but it wasn’t just him, it was almost every piece of media I’ve ever consumed. Everyday narratives of destiny and soulmates and one perfect night with someone are shoved down our throats, and it begins to feel that if you’re not experiencing these life-changing moments with strangers then there must be something wrong with you. 

Single moments are so precious to us because they don’t carry the weight or pressure of an entire relationship, and it’s further romanticized by movies. People become convinced that real love and connection are found in short unsustainable bursts. That unless every night is as profound as walking down the streets of Vienna in the 90s it isn’t real love or understanding. Both, fortunately, and unfortunately, that isn’t really how time or people work. Maybe films can sometimes get the feelings right, but they still end up messing with our perception of reality. You cannot know a person in one night, and they cannot know you. It’s harder and it’s scarier the more you know someone. There’s a chance that they won’t like you as much as they liked the idea of you. That they’ll get tired of you, grow to hate the things you can’t control, or, even worse, grow indifferent. But, to be eternally looking for someone new, and never get farther than surface level with someone is exhausting. 

I do not doubt that I, and most people like me, will continue to seek out media like The Before Trilogy. Media that is essentially strangers coming to realizations about themselves while talking and falling in love with each other. It’s comforting to watch and pretend for a little while that someone will come along who you can pour your heart and soul out to, and that person will listen when you talk. I’m not saying that isn’t possible, but I also know that placing those expectations on someone you’ve just met isn’t fair to either of you. So, we can have our movies about our perfect nights, as long as we remember that they’re movies and that they can’t really show us how time passes. We have to experience that one the long way.