Before Sunset
I’ve seen this film a few times already, but every once in a while I get into the mood of revisiting Jesse and Celine’s story. Starting in 1994, Before Sunrise was some sort of non sequitur narrative between these two early twenties traveling through Europe who carry the duration of the film with normal conversations. It sounds boring, but it’s all quite interesting if you’ve ever had any real face time with someone who’s had the same conversational frequency as you.
I noticed something while watching it again: some of the script and character development is so ingrained in the actors, you can’t quite tell if they’ve been completely engaged and attached to it themselves, especially in the beginning scene where Jesse and Celine are sparring about whether or not they showed up six months, after they separated, as planned. Realizing that Jesse had shown up that Winter while Celine was occupied with her grandmother’s funeral, he batted it off, saying, “Come on, it’s no big deal, all right? I flew all the way over here, you blew the thing off, and then my life has been a big nose dive since then, but it’s not a problem.”
You realize later in the film that he has been married for quite some time with a son. Only in multiple viewings did I notice his body language staying true to his character as he grasps at his wedding ring in disappointment while he tapers off into his life being “a big nose dive since…”
The other subtlety is in the flaws and growth of their characters. In the same running banter as the first film, Jesse brings up a subject previously mentioned nine years ago only to receive a different answer. Previously, he had asked her about her beliefs in reincarnation, which brought along the subject of souls. If only a few thousand years ago, there were X amount of people, and fast forward today we have six billion people on this earth… where do all the souls go? Are they just fractions of their former selves, scattered amongst the people. I mean, is that why we’re so scattered?
A little more jaded with their expectations in life, Celine quickly bats Jesse with a resounding ‘no’ the second time around. I think a lot of the themes in this film are very understated. Mostly the subjects they arrive at are more complex than the plot allows. As compact as it is, there’s a lot of tension between their former selves and their foolish decisions against their new found second chance and their new adult responsibilities. Yet, they suffer separately, but together.
A lot of my anxiety is sourced from the same sort of regret that comes in the form of ‘what if’. I suppose you can play out all the possibilities but it won’t affect the choices you have in the present moment. Then again I wonder what Jesse and Celine did with their second chance…
The Bad and The Beautiful
This is an oldie we got here, but it’s got a sophisticated script with some real clever devices that had me thinking quite a bit this past week. The Bad and The Beautiful (1952) is a film set within a film of sorts. One of the first films to detach from the surrealism of the industry and focus in on a group of people in the industry, much of the setting was within studios or staged as commentary against the real Hollywood.
For the hero of this relentless saga is a Hollywood producer who is a heel, a West Coast, Noel Cowardish scoundrel, a perfect Kirk Douglas-type bum. And the fine job of drawing him and quartering him that is done in the course of two hours by a top staff of Metro dissectors is enough to make the blood run sour and cold.
First, they slit him down the middle and show, in considerable detail, how he blandly double-crosses a director who has helped him through his early struggling years. Then they lop off another portion and show, in even greater detail, how he drags and romances a sad young actress to glittering triumph and then gives her the air. Finally, with what’s left, they show us how he baits a young author to Hollywood, then throws the guy’s wife to a wolfish actor just so he’ll be free to work on a script. (New York Times, January 16, 1953)
Coming around full-circle, Shields is out of business after his film, written by the widower James Lee Bartlow, fails to meet his standards of excellence. Begging for one more shot at a great film, his three ex-partners are now shining stars in the business. In the end, we’re left with an ambiguous ending, huddled over a telephone eavesdropping on a call between Shields and his financial backer, not knowing whether they’d forgive him and take the deal or laugh and walk away.
Bordering the notion of good or bad, Jonathan Shield’s is a character driven by excellence and success. By the virtues of his flaws, he is able to transform any situation into a golden opportunity, though leaving a mess behind in the process. While stealing Fred’s brilliant film idea, womanizing Georgia and deceiving her into love, and accidentally sending James’ wife to her death in a horrifying plane crash, he focused in on his job and made it work. While business is strictly business, he lacked the compassion that would have saved his friendships, but also hinder his path to success.
So, as someone who is bound to the creative field, what choices do I make? I certainly do feel motivated. In fact, sometimes I am driven too strongly by the scent of success. Perhaps the greatest acknowledgement would be my concession to any semblance of a normal life. Either I am driven by my work, or driven by a drive for happiness. Unless the two are mutually exclusive, it seems that the rest of the world will have to wait in line for me to stay put in one place long enough.
I empathize with Jonathan Shields. He’s an enabler who makes all the unethical sacrifices to get the job done. What scares me is the dehumanized manner in which business is assumed. Business is business after all, right?