During the Fresh Air interview with Richard Linklater, Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke, they discuss where Linklater got the idea for Before Sunrise, the first in the relationship trilogy. Linklater’s story is sad because the woman on whom his film was based, or inspired by, died tragically in a motorcycle accident just before they started filming. That is one of those grim reminders of what kind of random chaos life can really be, and how the moment must never be taken for granted.


You just never know what might happen to someone. But in the fictional version of Linklater’s fantasy, he finds a way to see the girl again, in this case in the second film, Before Sunset. Now, all of these years later they brought them back for the answer to the question, “what happens when you get what you’ve always wanted?”

For our giveaway, we’d like to know if you ever had a Before Sunrise moment. What ended up happening? Do you have any regrets? We’ll pick two winners from the comments and send both Before Sunrise and Before Sunset. If you don’t have a Before Sunrise moment then maybe just a memory about a place you only visited once, or a childhood friend you lost touch with. I’ll go first.

41QsVah8sXLIt was around 1979 or thereabouts. I’d joined a family on their summer camping trip to Yosemite. I was maybe 15 or 16. All I remember is that I’d just gotten my braces taken off. His name was Matt. He wore suspenders, had shaggy blonde hair and was either living in Yosemite at the time or spending his whole summer there. Looking back on it, he probably saw many girls that summer, each time a new family would pull in to camp. But to me, I’d never met anyone like him – he would jump off cliffs into the creek, everything he said was so smart and funny but more than that, we could really talk to each other. We spent the whole day and night together, though I declined his invitation to go back to his trailer – partly because the family I’d come with would have not liked that very much and partly out of fear. The next morning I was in despair because I hadn’t said goodbye, I didn’t even know his last name. I was madly in love with someone I would never see again.

And yours?

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  • I actually did a whole blog article about my moment. Since it is tied to a famous scene in a movie, you might enjoy it as well:

  • phantom

    It was the day Katharine Hepburn died. June 29, 2003. I was 15. It’s strange I thought I was younger. I was on a family vacation and I didn’t have a good time. I am the middle child so clearly could never command the authority of the firstborn or the ‘aww’ factor of the youngest, so – as probably most middle childs – I felt neglected and misunderstood.

    At the time, I didn’t really get along with either siblings, so while they were on the beach, I spent most of my time in the hotel lobby and read film related articles on the Internet. The one about Katharine Hepburn was one of them. It was sad, I had just seen ‘On Golden Pond’ a few months before and I knew that she was this great screen legend with a bunch of Oscars. I let out a sigh when this girl I didn’t even realize was sitting at the next computer, asked me what’s the problem. I told her that a great actress had died today. Katharine Hepburn. I didn’t expect her to know who she was, none of my friends would have known. She did. She saw “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner” on TV and could relate because she was in love with an African-American boy and her family made fun of her for it. Not the lighthearted kind of fun. The racist kind. She told me the story right away. Every embarassing detail. I couldn’t decide whether I thought she was unintelligent for sharing something so personal with a perfect stranger or she just felt so alone in the world that she had to put her trust in a perfect stranger because she clearly couldn’t talk about her frustration to the ones closest to her.

    Our encounter didn’t have a romantic feel to it. It was friendly. She was like a friend. Not a buddy. A friend. We spent the next few days with each other, I talked to her about films, she talked to me about her family. Then the vacation ended and we never saw each other again. We exchanged numbers, we talked on the phone for a couple of times but then we lost contact, I hadn’t heard from her for almost a decade. But there were film characters that reminded me of her and her struggles (Skeeter from ‘The Help’, Penny from ‘Hairspray’).

    A few months ago I decided to look her up. She died. Suicide. I wasn’t a big part of her life, she wasn’t a big part of mine, still, it was devastating. She was so young…and I was shocked to realize that she had taught me something that surprised the hell out of me…that I am genuinely grateful for my family. Sure, they aren’t perfect, sure they have the rare talent to annoy the hell out of me in record time, but at least they are not a bunch of bigot, racist idiots who would EVER feel the need to publicly shame their loved one who dares to love someone with a different skin color.

    This is why I can appreciate films like ‘The Help’ or ‘The Blind Side’. Not because these are cinematic masterpieces, of course not, they are as manipulative as they get and usually I hate manipulative films with a vengeance (btw, a big FU to Nicholas Sparks!), but films like ‘The Help’ have a message, an important one and though it might be comforting to tell ourselves that in our world a message about equality is dated and unnecessary and doesn’t have the relevance that a film like ‘Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner’ had back in the sixties, if we look around, it becomes blatantly obvious that the fight for equality is an ongoing battle, only most of the Hilly Holbrooks of our time are now pretty much over the whole ‘race thing’, and aim their sharpened pitchforks at gay people. As if hating gays would be any better than hating blacks. I wish that these onemillionmomswhoclearlyhavenothingbettertodo would realize that the film they watched with their girlfriends and loved so much (The Help, The Blind Side) are only the beginning and there will be another ‘Help’ in fifty years, it will be about our time, and THEY will be the villain in that.

    …and at the end of the day, I’m just sad that the parents of this girl I spent a short week with a decade ago, haven’t learned from a manipulative film like a lot of other people have over the years.

  • Now you’re making me want the thumbs up button back.

  • +1

  • +1

    now you know who’s thumbing you.

  • tom

    sasha: on the contender tracker, could u please correct best actor for “ain’t them bodies saints”. (I’m surprised it’s taking this long.)

  • tom

    …..and while you’re there, add Michael Shannon for “iceman”.
    (bossy, aren’t I?…..please no offense)

  • Here’s what happened to me during my time in Europe. Funny enough, before my trip I had seen Before Sunrise for the first time. I wrote it out as a diary entry and then I published it as a short story. I changed the names & some of the US states as to not reveal the identity of the woman. Hope you enjoy!!

    My name is Jacob, and for the last few months, I’ve been feeling a little lost. Moving to a whole new city where you don’t know anyone is really difficult, which has been the case since I moved to Chicago 8 months ago.

    One day I decided it’s time for a change, so I did something extreme. I bought a backpack & a ticket to Europe. Six weeks have gone by and I’ve met some amazing people and had some really crazy nights. On October 24th, just one day before my European Adventure ended, something special happened.

    Here’s how it all began.

    During my trip, my favorite country ended up being Switzerland. Luckily I met a great person by the name of Andrea, whose family let me stay at their home. Andrea already had tickets to a soccer game, so I told her I would roam around town & check in with her to see what the plans were later that night.

    One of the great things about Starbucks is the free wifi, and when you’re traveling Europe with no Cellular service, you realize just how important a Starbucks is. Around 5 pm, I locate a Starbucks and find a table with two seats, facing the window.

    Ten minutes later, a woman sits next to me. From that moment, everything changed.

    She pulls out her iPhone and tries to get on the Internet. I was about to help her, until I saw she knew what she was doing. Two minutes later, she tells me there was a huge earthquake in Turkey and her flight to Jerusalem has a layover there tomorrow. She’s clearly worried.

    She was wearing a black winter jacket that came pass her waist. It’s October and Switzerland gets a bit chilly at night so I don’t blame her. Glasses, Pretty, her hair in a little bun. The conversation ran smoothly. Time passes and she tells me she has to go because she has a flight in the morning. I say okay, I figured it was just a friendly conversation for a few minutes and we would go our separate ways, but we continue to talk, & out of nowhere, she says

    Come with me.

    We leave.

    We walk around Zürich, taking pictures like the tourist that we are. I discover that her name is Lena and she’s 28 years old. She’s from Israel and was only in Zürich for that one night. During her trip, she spent two weeks in Paris. Lena seems to be figuring herself out; in that phase, learning how to be alone without the influence of her family or a significant other.

    It’s night time and the streets of Switzerland are surprisingly empty. It feels like we’re the only two people in the world. When we walk, our bodies bump into each other. I’m not sure if she’s doing it on purpose but I know I am. It’s a bit cold and that split second of warmth does a lot. Maybe I’m kidding myself and I just wanted to feel close to her. Lena and I walk down a few dark alleyways, which Switzerland has a ton of. It’s a little scary so we subconsciously get closer to each other. We finally made it to the train station and I say.

    You sure you want to go home? You’re just going to shower and sleep! That sounds so fun!

    She laughed and very sensually asked me

    What do you suggest?

    I respond

    My friends usually take me places so I’m not too sure, lets just wing it.

    She smiles. Lena says


    We asked a woman if there were any bars around and she told us about one. We find it a few minutes later, along with a seat in a nice dark corner. The whole bar was dark and crowded, but I liked that corner. We sit down and she says

    Can I put some lipstick and stuff on? I want to feel pretty.

    I didn’t object and I said

    Sure, go ahead.

    She takes off her jacket & glasses, her hair comes down and that’s when I finally get a good look at her. Lena has dirty blonde curly hair, it goes slightly pass her shoulders. She’s about 5’5 with hips that would make any mans mouth water. A full figured woman. Wow, her face. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I had no idea what was under that jacket, and even though it was October, I think Santa delivered early this year! She comes back and orders us some drinks. I tell her

    No alcohol for me, I drank too much last night

    She laughed, having seen the wild drunken pictures from my previous night. We talk about her family, my family and her travels & how she wants to please her strict relatives. I warn her how that’s not good. She has to live for herself and they already lived their lives. She agrees. Tells me she has a lot of what ifs because of it.

    We’re sitting at a small circular table. Me on a chair, while she was on the couch part. Our elbows are on the table and we’re this close to each others face. The whole time, that’s how we sat. I got up and said

    Let me sit next to you

    She gladly moved over. Our bodies got closer. It’s funny how two people act when they’re into each other. During the conversation, our bodies began to touch more. I would make a joke and she would caress my arm, which would trickle down to my thigh. Slowly. Like a painter, putting the finishing touches on their masterpiece. I would rest my hand on her thigh as well, slowly caressing my hands back and forth. Up and down. Up… And down. I could feel the tension in her body

    She kissed me.

    The passion in her lips was intense. Her mouth was warm, loving. We kissed like we knew each other for years. The connection was undeniable. I’m sure people were looking, but we clearly didn’t care. We talked and kissed. Repeated that pattern for awhile. It’s been several hours since we met, but it doesn’t feel like it. Her train was set to leave in thirty minutes. Midnight. She nibbles on my ear and says

    You’re making me wet

    She didn’t want us to spend the night together. I told her if we did, nothing would happen, she says

    I couldn’t keep my hands off you if we were alone together

    I wanted her more. For me, it wasn’t just about sex, it was about me having no idea when we would see each other again. We kissed more, but then it was time to go. Ten minutes left before her train. We leave the bar, but this time, we’re holding hands. From looking at us, you would never believe that we just met, hours earlier.

    It’s cold and the subconscious bumping into each other is definitely a conscious decision at this point. As we walk, we look into each other eyes, the connection still strong, but with a sense of sad anticipation. We get to Zurich HB Station and even though it’s late, it’s filled with hundreds of people. Mostly tourists and backpackers onto their next adventure, just like I had been.

    We couldn’t find the train. There is now a sense of urgency and so many things are going through my head. Do I want her to find the train? If she does, does that mean I’ll never see her again? Lena asks around very quickly, and I decide to do the right thing and join her. I shouldn’t be selfish.

    5 minutes left and we run to another suited individual, who then gives us directions to the train that will take Lena away from me. We begin to run. Run. Run. We find the train & the doors close! I feel like my heart is about to beat out of my chest. Is it a heart attack? Elation? Too much salt? Lena then presses the green button that changes everything, It opens the train doors and she gets on, I watch her get on, thinking I didn’t want tonight to end this way.

    I jumped on the train.

    She was shocked and said

    What are you doing!

    We’re both smiling at the same time. I tell her

    I have no idea!

    We laugh and sit there. I promise her that I wasn’t going to try to get in her hotel, I just wanted to spend as much time with her as I can. We’re sitting face to face. Hands on each other. We kiss more. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I don’t want this night to end.

    Minutes later, we’re at the airport. I honestly couldn’t believe we got there so fast. It’s late at night, why are these trains running so smoothly!? The idiot in me wanted to call someone and complain. We get off the train and now she has to catch the last shuttle to her hotel. We run. Run. Run. We get there with 10 minutes to spare.

    She says

    I hate saying bye. I hope we see each other again, I’m really going to miss you

    Her accent is probably the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. I love it.

    She then tells me something amazing. How she’s going to the University of Chicago. Then I realize that I live in Chicago too! We both remember that little piece of information that I told her earlier. She’s excited and I’m very excited at the thought of her moving to my new home state.

    Never in a million years would I have pictured a night like this. Minutes later, the shuttle comes. We passionately kiss again, one last time, and she gets on. Looks at me as the door begins to close. I stand there. A bit sad that it’s over.

    20 seconds later, the shuttle door opens.

    Lena comes back out!

    She says

    Everyone was looking at us kissing and the driver told me that we have 9 minutes before its time to go

    I’ve never seen someone so excited in my life! I can’t believe all this is happening. Is this a fictional story that someone is reading? A movie? This is actually happening to me? I’m just a nerd from a small town! Lena walks to me, happy to have more time together & worried that I might miss the last train back home and tells me

    Please go. I worry about you

    I tell her

    No. I’m staying till you go

    We both look at each other. Neither one of us will budge. We talk more about seeing each other again. Kiss more until no time is left and then we just hugged each other. That final hug was intense, it literally pained me to let her go & just like that —

    She was gone…

    I watch her drive off, not knowing when I’ll see her again. I was a bit upset. It’s amazing how a connection can be made so quickly. I ended up catching the train back to Andrea’s house. During my walk home, I said something out loud that I never thought I would say….

    I’m going to marry that woman

    Lena is now on a plane to Israel. She’s safe. My European Adventure has come to an end & I’m now on a plane back to Chicago. My mind still goes to that night and it’s hard to explain but I can feel her. I think about her and the taste of her lips and her spirit lingers around me. It’s a feeling I’ve never felt before with anyone. That night will stay with me for the rest of my life and one day, I will see her again.

    Based On A True Story

  • moviewatcher

    The cynic in me wants to say “bulls***!”. But the hopeful in me is in awe. I believe you.

    But I want to know more. Do you want to tell us what happened next?

  • RJ

    So I haven’t seen either Before Sunrise or Before Sunset, in large part because what little I know about the films’ plots has caused me to put off renting either one; I’m still a little raw from my own “Before Sunrise” story, and there’s a part of me that isn’t sure I want to relive it via these films. There’s also the part of me dying for a conduit to reconnect with some of those feelings. But here it is:

    Last October, I was in Vegas for a professional conference (I’m gonna keep the details somewhat vague). With two nights left before the conference ended, I went out with some colleagues, and ended up joining up with some other groups in town for the same conference. I noticed almost immediately that one of the guys in this other group was someone I had noticed a few times throughout the previous couple days. You know how you can sometimes see a stranger and immediately feel that sort of gut punch of unshakeable attraction? Yeah, that’s how it had been with this guy. I’d been too shy to introduce myself or anything, but had definitely made the mental note that if we were to meet before the conference was over… I’d clearly be interested in “getting to know” him. In depth.

    So our new groups of friends are mixing and mingling, and at one point a mutual friend starts introducing me to members of his group. He seems to make a beeline over to me, and introduces himself with a funny joke. And with that, the ball started rolling. The details of our conversation at that casino and the cab ride to the next are forever lost to the glow of poor memory and copious alcohol, but the rest of the night was an enjoyable blur of hand holding and dancing in clubs that ended with us high up in one of the strip’s most famous hotels; he stood in front of me, I had my arms around him, and we just looked out over the Las Vegas nighttime skyline.

    It was nearly 4am, and we both had a presentation to be at starting at 8. We kissed, deeply, until sleep beckoned and we went back to our separate hotel rooms after exchanging phone numbers. I ended up sleeping through my alarm, and instead woke to a text from my new friend halfway through what should have been the session I was attending. We agreed we’d try to hang out again before the conference ended.

    Unfortunately, a perfect set of weather-related circumstances (involving major storms and canceled/rescheduled flights) conspired to force me out of the conference early and without a goodbye to my new friend. I texted him from the airport saying I’d had a great time the night before and hoped he’d keep in touch. When I landed at home and turned my phone back on I had a missed message from him telling me how sad he was we didn’t get to hang out again.

    About 4 days later, he texted me on a Saturday night when I wasn’t doing anything, just to see how I was. After two hours of nonstop texting, we chatted on facetime on our iPhones for another two hours. And then spent the next three months talking/texting everyday. We’d tell each other about how we didn’t take enough advantage of our time in Vegas together, of what we’d do if we were in the same place. How hard it was to like someone so much when 1,000+ miles separated our respective homes. On New Year’s Eve, sometime around 3am on my way back home, I called him and suggested we meet up. I’d fly out to see him, and use my miles so it wouldn’t cost anything.

    Three weeks later, I spent a perfect 3 day weekend with the guy, getting to do the types of (naked) activities we missed out on in Vegas. For three days I could kiss and cuddle and do anything I wanted with a guy who had, for most of the time I’d known him, essentially been a square on my iPhone. Only once did we broach the topic of the future, choosing instead to remain fully present in the enjoyable now. Immediately after we finished yet another round of “together time”, he asked, “Would you want to be my boyfriend?”

    I was too electrified to speak, and instead just nodded. Rather than push the conversation into territory of how unrealistic it was, we just let it be.

    I didn’t expect my stomach to turn itself into so many knots as we approached the airport at the end of the weekend, or that I’d already be blinking back tears. We parked, he got out to get my bag, and unashamedly had tears streaming down his face by the time he got to me. I tried to hold it together, saying “bye” for perhaps forever and giving him goodbye kiss after goodbye kiss, trying to prolong the inevitable. With a wave, I disappeared into the airport, and finally lost it in the bathroom before going to security.

    From there, we did our best to keep up. Rather than talk/text every day, it became slowly more sporadic. Still most days, but not quite as often. On my birthday he texted me at 12:01am to be the first to say happy birthday, and woke me up in the morning with a facetime call so his would be the first face I’d see. We’d occasionally talk about hooking up with other people. For two months, I completely lost interest in dating/seeing anyone else; he had one, said he “had needs”, and that let me feel okay about giving in and trying to see others. In one particularly loaded conversation, he told me he felt like he was in an emotional relationship with me, that we were “dating without dating”.

    So I decided to go see him again. Another 3-day weekend. This one somehow different than the last. Both more and less comfortable. There were no tears at the airport this time. No allusions to possibly dating. Silent, yet mutual, recognition that, no matter what we want, this just isn’t meant to be.

    It’s been a month since then. We’ve only talked once, for 10 minutes on the phone while he was on his way home from work. We’ve texted a few times, but it feels forced in a way that it didn’t used to. The ironic bit is that right now, when I’ve never felt more distant from him, is the moment that we both have new job opportunities that could bring us to the same state. But it seems like our moment, finally, officially, and bittersweetly has passed.

    I’ll sit there and think that I’m fine, and tell myself that it can’t have meant that much since we never dated; there was no relationship to officially “break up”. But then I’ll hear a cheesy song about falling in love or see something as banal as a tv commercial and be hit with this pang of sadness that I may never see this person again. That I won’t know what he looks like he’s 50, 60, 70, 80. That he’ll have this whole life that I won’t be a part of. And I know that I’ll go on and move on and have a life full of my own moments. But it’s hard not to wish that the deck hadn’t been so stacked against us from the beginning.

  • I want to see movies made from some of these comments. This page promises to better than most pitch meetings.

  • Jamie

    Always did think there was a movie in mine somewhere with California back water, 1950s era early rock music and very young love 🙂

  • Not sure if Moviewatcher’s comment was for me but if so, here’s a response!

    Yea, the story is true. I posted it on my website, & I included pictures from that night. The places we saw as we walked around Switzerland, the bar, the train station etc etc… No pictures of the woman on there but Jesus heaven, she is striking.

    As far as what happened next, things did get pretty intense with us after that night but I can’t go into too much detail at the moment. She has no idea I wrote that story actually! lol… I’m sure she’ll stumble onto it & be completely shocked when she does find it eventually.

    To experience that level of intimacy for me, is what life is all about and I hope everyone in their lives gets to feel it at least one time.

    That’s all it takes.

  • Jordan

    My brief encounter occurred in Paris of all places, just two summers ago. I was 20 at the time and wanted to test my six semesters of college French in the real deal.

    Of course one of my first visits was the Louvre, where lines are notorious for moving slower than any queue at Disney World or Six Flags. I was surrounded by foreigners and no French or English speakers, so I hopelessly stood in line by myself, gawking at the mixtures of races, cultures and languages surrounding me.

    I pulled out my English version of my guide to the museum, when suddenly a girl behind me said, “Are you American?”

    I turned around to see another 20-something standing right behind me. She was a beautiful brunette and wore a classic sun dress. I told her I was, and she was just as relieved as I was to find a fellow English-speaker.

    She explained that she was attending college in Texas and had come for a week just to see the sights, much like me. We immediately began to discuss all the incidentals of our life: where we grew up, what we were studying, etc.

    As the queue finally winded to a stop at the ticket taker, I mustered up the courage to ask if she wanted to tour the museum together. I had taken an art history in college, and said I couldn’t promise much in terms of my knowledge of the vast collections housed at the world’s most famous museum, but she readily agreed.

    And off we went. We spent a good three hours exploring, marveling and joking with one another. We ended up in the plaza next to the glass pyramids. It seemed only fitting that we take a picture together after our afternoon of unexpected bonding. And so we did.

    But once that was done, I was surprised by my lack of desire to invite her to coffee or dinner. Perhaps it was my timidness or my trepidation at just how out of my league she was. So I gave her a brief hug and we said goodbye.

    Of course, five minutes later I was kicking myself for not at least getting her full name so I could look her up on Facebook. I soon forgot about her as I continued touring the city the next few days.

    Not long after, I was visiting the Paris Opera House, standing on the balcony looking out onto the posh shopping district below me. (I should interject that I had already visited all the spots from BEFORE SUNSET like Shakespeare and Co. and the cafe where Jesse and Celine shared a coffee… how could I not as a cinephile?)

    Suddenly, a voice from down below me called out “Jordan!” I looked down to see The Girl standing there, waving furiously at me. It still seems like a dream. Out of all the people in Paris, out of all the places… there she was, right in front of me, at the opera house of all places.

    She was about to board a tour bus, and there was no way I would be able to run down the myriad of steps in time to speak to her up close. Frantically, I pulled out my camera, took a picture of her smiling up at me, and waved goodbye.

    But not before I asked her a question. “What’s your name?”

    I had to say it three times so she could hear me amongst the cacophony of crowd noise.

    She said it, waved once more, and got on the bus.

    I’ve looked her up on Facebook many times since then, but never once have I found her. I’m afraid she has one of those “hidden” profiles.

    But in a way, I’m kind of glad for the ambiguity of it all. It certainly makes the story all the more fantastical, and though I wish I could’ve spent more time with Anna, I’ll always have that final picture of her with her sunglasses on, hair flying in the breeze, just as happy and surprised to see me as I was her.

    I know this all sounds ridiculous and made up. I assure you it’s not. And if it can happen to Jesse and Celine nine years later, well, who knows what I’ll find the next time I visit Paris.

  • moviewatcher

    Yeah, it was for you. Thank you for all the extra details you were able to give.

  • Kane

    Summer of 2004, I was 17 and in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. It was my last night there and I met a girl named Ivett, she was visiting from another part of the country. We met at a pool at night and I awkwardly asked her out to a club (drinking age is 15) and we ended up dancing for hours. We then walked along the beach between 1 and 4 AM and finally later down on some reclining chairs we found on the beach. We must’ve kissed for hours and hours and talked about all aspects of life. It was a sad night because we both knew I was leaving for the states the following morning. I ended up hugging her for 10 minutes outside my hotel and I kept promising we’d keep in touch. I got back home and called her to tell her I got back safely. She called me another time and I never called back…that was almost 9 years ago. It’s so bittersweet…I’m engaged and I love my fiancé but sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if I just kept in touch. Funny enough for my first real film project I made a film called Volta do Mar and its all about dreaming but it’s based on my last night in Mexico. Ironically enough I never followed through with that 40 minute beast and the editing is still untouched. After all the hard work and thousands of dollars, maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. What’s also funny is I still haven’t seen any of the Before Sunrise movies.

  • What’s also funny is I still haven’t seen any of the Before Sunrise movies.

    Before Sunrise and Before Sunset were both released during long period when I was off having my own worldwide adventures and not paying attention to movies very far out of the mainstream. In the past few years since I’ve settled down I never managed to catch to them. It’s a major gap in essential film awareness that would be embarrassing if it didn’t now put me in a pretty enviable position of seeing all thee movies for the very first time, back to back in a tight cluster. These jump cuts across the decades are going to be astonishing to witness, are they not?

  • Kane

    Whoops, this was supposed to go here, not below. D’oh!

    Yes sir, they will. I’m embarrassed as a film buff to not have seen any. Seeing those three back to back to back will be fantastic…but it won’t be the same because I didn’t grow up with Jesse and Celine. That part will break my heart because I know what kind of movie magic I’ve missed out on.

  • Sharmota

    Sunrise Adams is so beautiful actress

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