Before Sunset

Before Sunset is Richard Linklater’s follow-up to 1995’s Before Sunrise, and honestly, I almost love it more than the first one. The movie drops us back into the lives of Jesse (Ethan Hawke) and Celine (Julie Delpy) nine years after their magical Vienna night, reuniting them in Paris for an afternoon. Over 80-ish minutes, the whole film unfolds in what feels like real time, which could be boring in lesser hands, but here it's more like eavesdropping on two old friends processing the last decade of hurts, hopes, and regrets.

What really stands out is how unscripted the conversation feels. The dialogue is sharp but natural, as if the actors are actually making it up on the spot. It totally captures that anxious vibe of rekindling something with an old flame but now having way more baggage than you did at 23. There’s an undercurrent of time running out — Jesse’s got a flight to catch, Celine keeps checking the clock, but there’s clearly so much that needs to be said, and you can feel the tension ratcheting up every time a question hangs in the air.

I have to talk about the way the film looks, though. It’s shot entirely in Paris in broad daylight. No moody nighttime sequences, no crazy set pieces — just two people walking and talking through bookshops, cafes, and those little cobblestone streets. The cinematography in Before Sunset isn’t flashy, but it leans all the way in on its setting so you feel like you’re right there next to them, eavesdropping as Paris whizzes by in the background. The city isn’t just backdrop here, it’s a character. It’s pretty rare for a romantic movie not to romanticize its city, but in this film Paris looks beautiful but lived-in, almost casual.

Pacing is another thing that I didn’t expect to work but totally does. The whole film is just ninety minutes of conversation. No flashbacks, no dramatic third-act plot twist — just these two talking, arguing, flirting, getting uncomfortable, and sometimes just sitting with the silence. At first it can feel a bit slow. But, honestly, by halfway through you’re almost holding your breath, because every little subject they bring up carries way more emotional charge than you’d think. That ache of missed chances is everywhere.

Julie Delpy is the secret weapon here. She’s got this restless energy, almost fidgety, and her vulnerability makes Celine feel real in a way that’s kind of rare for romance films. Hawk is good too — fumbling, nervous, sometimes a little smug — but Delpy just knocks every moment out of the park. There’s this part where she quietly describes a regret about her love life, and it lingers in the air for a good ten seconds after she’s done. No music swell, no dramatic close-up. Just honesty.

It’s not perfect. Sometimes the self-consciousness of Jesse’s musings can feel a bit forced, especially when the script gets a little too poetical for its own good. There are moments where you can tell Linklater, Hawke, and Delpy collaborated on the screenplay, and some lines sound more like writers showing off than people actually talking. I also think the very precise, real-time format might annoy anyone who wants more traditional narrative momentum.

Still, that low-key anxiety about time slipping away is really powerful here. Every little moment — brushing hands, an awkward silence, a too-bold confession — hits a little harder because you know they have history and might never get this chance again. You don’t get neat closure or answers, but you do get gut-level honesty, which is more than most romance movies venture to offer.

To me, Before Sunset lands as one of the rare sequels that’s sharper, sadder, and somehow richer than the first film. Its restraint is a miracle, especially considering how melodramatic the genre usually gets. If you’re up for a slow burn and you’re comfortable with a romance that stings a little, this is the one to watch.