Before Sunset vs We Don't Live Here Anymore

Before Sunset is a rare creature: a sequel that might actually be necessary. On the surface, it seems like cashing in, but then we realize: cashing in on what? It's not like Before Sunrise was a massive hit and there were like, Dr. Pepper campaigns banking on the possibility of another round of Jesse and Celine walking around Vienna. No, this is a sequel determined by the story. Jesse and Celine, you might recall, met on a train almost a decade ago, got off and walked around Vienna, talking the whole time. They made a promise to meet again in six months. In Before Sunset, we get the answers to our burning questions: Did they meet again six months later? Will they stay together this time? Will there be lots of talking?

I guess you can imagine that I'm a little cynical about stuff like this. Before Sunrise is a little pretentious. Don't get me wrong; it's sweet and smart too. There's just so much talking, and a lot of it is done by Ethan Hawke, so you know, you kind of have to fight off the eye roll once in a while. This time, though, Jesse and Celine are older and wiser, and I like them more. Before Sunset opens in Paris. Jesse is on a book tour for his recently-published novel, written about his adventure a decade prior, you guessed it, walking around Vienna with a strange girl. She's Celine, of course, played by Julie Delpy, and if you're surprised to see her living in Paris and actually at the book signing, then, well, there's this thing called a movie, and you really should consider watching at least one at some point. Jesse and Celine reunite, and it's one of those awkward moments we rarely see in movies, where people are so excited to see each other that they have absolutely nothing to say, and decide on small talk, which takes them dangerously close to thinking maybe the object of their fantasy is actually quite boring. Eventually, they warm up to each other again, and although Jesse has a plane to catch, they go for a cup of coffee. Jesse and Celine both moved on after that night in Vienna, although they continued to think of each other. Only one of them showed up six months later, but I won't tell you which. They also both ended up living in the same city at the same time, and are amused and exasperated in that way you get when the universe really seems to focus in its plot against you. Are they in love with each other? Probably not. Are they happy without each other? Possibly, in a way. Would they be happier, together, forever? You can see these questions spinning behind Hawke and Delpy's eyes throughout the movie. This one, I have to tell you, got me. Their conversation is so genuine and smart (the screenplay was co-written by Hawke and Delpy, with director Richard Linklater), that as the movie goes on, it seems less and less like a movie script and more and more like a really good conversation.

Before Sunset is short, and feels filmed in real time, although there are edits. Hawke and Delpy appear to be passing locals on the streets, rather than extras, and when they arrive at Celine's apartment (come on, you knew they weren't just going for coffee), it seems as if their destination really exists at the end of the route we just followed. The performances, and there are really only two, are great. Hawke and Delpy are a little more lived-in than a decade ago. Their comfort and attraction levels with each other are enormous and believable. Julie Delpy is funnier and sexier this time, cracking jokes and imitating Nina Simone. Hawke is good too, but could use a sandwich, I'm just saying. When Celine dances around in her apartment and murmurs, “Baby, you are going to miss that plane,” Hawke's eyes light up in a way that says ten years was too long a wait. I think he's right. Next time, let's make it five.

Of course, there's a parallel universe out there, where movie characters make different decisions and live out different lives. What does Jesse have waiting for him at home in the States? What would his life be like if he'd stayed with Celine a decade ago? Would they still be happy? Would they still be together? The answer to these questions just might be found in We Don't Live Here Anymore. Jesse, trust me, you're better off not knowing.

We Don't Live Here Anymore is sort of like Closer, with characters who can't afford housekeepers or professional haircuts. It moves around two couples: Jack and Terry (Mark Ruffalo and Laura Dern), and Hank and Edith (Peter Krause and Naomi Watts). They're friends, and seem to like each other more as a group than as individuals. Early in the movie, they're having a small party, and Jack goes out for more beer. Edith joins him. We know instantly that Jack and Edith are having an affair, and so does Terry. What transpires between the two couples is sort of one-upmanship over who can do the most damage to each other and themselves. Terry has trouble running her home. She's got kids and a mess and a drinking problem, and really can't be bothered to stay on top of any of it, though she does pretty well with the drinking. Edith runs an apparently immaculate household, but her kid is withdrawn and silent and understands way more about her life than her parents realize. Hank and Jack are both college professors, both a little lecherous, neither truly a good friend to the other, each sleeping with the others wife.

See, the thing is, I don't have to like anyone in We Don't Live Here Anymore. I'm fine hating them all, and could still be mesmerized by the film. It all plays, however, like some kind of experiment. Let's see how ugly people can be, and how far they'll go, and what if nothing comes of it? At all? The characters in We Don't Live Here Anymore seem very true to life and are pathetic and needy in a way that real people often are but that movies often shy away from. Wonder why? Well how many of the pathetic and needy people in your life would you pay eight bucks to see? We Don't Live Here Anymore is a little like Your Friends and Neighbors, but it's not shocking or funny. It's just mean and sad. The saving grace is in the performances, all of which are good, but especially in that of Laura Dern, which is amazing. Dern takes flawed, angry Terry, and turns her into a scathing, dangerous, realistic woman. It's easy to imagine Terry burning her house down, or driving away and never looking back. She stays, and Dern keeps her interesting and vital to the storyline. She has a scene where she breaks down exactly what it means to be unfaithful and exactly who it affects and why. It's a speech similar to Nicole Kidman's underwear tirade in Eyes Wide Shut, but brought down to earth. Dern is riveting, and completely unafraid to be the bad guy. Kind of makes you think that maybe Terry met Jack on a train years ago, and maybe she would have been better off standing him up six months later. Jesse and Celine, good luck. But maybe rent We Don't Live Here Anymore between visits.

Before Sunset: B+
We Don't Live Here Anymore: C+