Apropos of Nothing

There is a purely poetic scene near the end of Richard Linklater’s Before Sunset in which Julie Delpy’s Celine reaches a lover’s consoling hand to stroke the hair, head, and soul of Ethan Hawke’s Jesse. He is in monologue and emotional and looking out the window of the car they share. She pauses her hand midway, unsure, and pulls it back. The action takes less than three seconds and yet is the most poignant, chest-tightening moment of the film. It offers a measured portrait of an unsure character so stricken by yearning, heartsickness, and empathy, that she chooses to not commit the sin of showing it. Our vulnerabilities are painful enough without giving voice to them—without sharing them with those who cultivate them to begin with. The scene may or may not be as powerful as I’ve let on. But because the action is unseen by anyone save the audience, it is genuine and tastes metallic and permanent—like true heartache.