Before Sunset

SPOILER ALERT! The plot will be discussed.

Director Richard Linklater has filmed movies over decades using the same actors and actresses to add a feeling of reality to his fictional works. He did it with Boyhood and also in the trilogy that started with Before Sunrise and ended with Before Midnight. (Or will there be more?). This 2004 entry, Before Sunset happens to be my favorite one of this group, maybe because it deals directly with Linklater’s theme of how writing a story borrows from reality, transforms it, and makes permanent experiences in a work of art.

The director and his stars, Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy, kicked around the possibility for a sequel for years, and then Delpy came up with forty pages of dialogue that accelerated the project. It was rehearsed over two weeks and filmed in about three weeks. So there was a long gestation period but a quick birth here.

This film is sort of a romantic version of the movie My Dinner with Andre, where two people just talk, but there is nothing banal or superficial about the conversation. Here, however, the chemistry between the two characters is more exciting and the scenery more enjoyable. The film begins with establishing shots showing different parts of Paris to ground us as to the location. The camera zeroes in on the Shakespeare and Co. bookshop where Jesse Wallace (Hawke) is doing a reading from his book entitled This Time. The story starts during a Q&A which began at 5:30 pm. So, the story unfolds in real time just before sunset in the summertime. As IMDb notes, the bookstore is named after the publishing house owned by Sylvia Beach who first published James Joyce’s Ulysses. Of course, that story also takes place during one day walking around a European city, as do the first two films in this trilogy. Jesse’s novel is based on the single night he spent nine years prior with Celine in Vienna (and to add to the accuracy of the time span, the first film was made nine years prior).

Jesse avoids the direct question about whether the book is autobiographical by referencing author Thomas Wolfe who said we are the sum total of our experiences and we see the totality of existence through our own personal “keyhole.” So everything is autobiographical in that sense since it is tinted by one’s own life. He says his own life did not have violence or international intrigue or helicopter crashes, but he feels that his experiences have been full of its own kind of drama. His statement mirrors what happens in Ulysses, since Joyce uses, as all great authors do, everyday events to show the universality that exists in them.

As Jesse talks, there are flashbacks to shots in the first film where he met Celine (Delpy). He says he wrote his novel because he wanted to capture that experience of meeting someone and really making a connection. His desire to make palpable a meaningful bond established between people reflects one of the most universal forces that drive humans. The female questioner asks specifically did he meet a French girl on a train, and after he says it is not important, he finally admits that is what happened. Someone notes that the book ends on an “ambiguous note,” as did the first film, with the two characters saying they would meet in Vienna again in six months. However, they did not want to confine the agreement with exchanges of information since they wanted the reunion to be purely voluntary without prodding on either party’s part. This course of action was, of course, impractical. Jesse says he left what would happen up to the reader. He says if you are a romantic you will say they would meet again, if you’re a cynic, you say no, or maybe you at least hope they would meet again. He won’t reveal what really happened because he feels that would take the thrill out of the possibilities that the ending suggests. His explanation is a good literary analysis of why the unresolved ending of the first film is so effective.

He is asked about what he might write next. He says that he would like to create a book that takes place during the length of a pop song. (This idea also sounds Joycean). There would be a guy who has a good job and a beautiful wife, but he has thought of himself as an adventurer looking for meaning, and that “happiness is in the doing,” not in obtaining. So, the character is totally depressed about his current life. As we learn later, this possible plot could reflect on Jesse himself when he tells Celine of his life after he left her in Vienna. It turns out that she has been the inspiration that helped him explore what is important to him in his story. The character in this proposed novel sees his daughter dancing to a pop song and that makes him travel mentally back to when he was a youth with a girl who also danced and they had lost their virginity together. The man is living in both moments simultaneously. As Jesse relates his tale, there are flashbacks of Celine’s cherubic face. Jesse is an older person wanting to recapture that feeling of youth’s hopeful possibility. Since these two times fold into themselves, Jesse says that “time is a lie,” since, through memory, we can exist in different periods and not be confined by the present. There is then a shot of Celine, who has entered the bookshop. Jesse sees her, is stunned, and the past merges with the present, just like in his proposed story, just as reality and fiction join. He goes on to say that “inside every moment is another moment,” so we are constantly experiencing new and old times together, as Jesse and Celine now are.

Jesse is supposed to leave for the airport because Paris is his last stop, and, in a way, it is also his last chance at that meaningful life. Celine asks when does he have to be at the airport and Jesse is told his deadline is 7:30. So, they do not have much time, which adds to the importance of every moment they spend together. Jesse gets a card from his driver, Phillipe (Diabolo), so he can call to pick him up to catch his plane. The beginning of their reunion is awkward, with neither Jesse nor Celine knowing how to begin their interaction. He does want to spend some time with her so they go for coffee. He admits that he almost “lost it” when he saw her. She says it’s her favorite bookstore and saw that he was going to be there. She had read an article about his book and she jokingly says, “it sounded vaguely familiar.” They move around the city as the film progresses, which mirrors what happened in Vienna, which becomes a sort of symbolic journey of rediscovery of themselves and their significance to each other. She read his book twice, and she says it is well written, even though she doesn’t usually like romantic stories. It is an ironic statement, since she is in one, but it is not the typical melodramatic, sentimental type. Theirs is an intense, intellectual, passionate romantic tale that surprisingly never has the man and woman kiss. So, overt physical acts are not needed to show the true feelings of affection in this relationship.

Celine feels that she must ask him before they go any further if he showed up in Vienna as they had planned. Obviously she did not if she asks the question. To avoid making her feel guilty, Jesse says no. She is relieved, and says she couldn’t meet him because her grandmother died on December 16, the day when they were to meet, six months after they said goodbye. She is surprised Jesse remembered her grandmother lived in Budapest, but then recalls that fact is in the book, and that everything about their meeting is in the novel, which shows the importance of that day to Jesse. But, in a way, by making their interaction public, it could be taken as an invasion of her privacy. She says she planned to fly to Vienna, but had to go to the funeral. Then she is upset because he didn’t show. He then admits that he did, and she wonders if he hated her all this time. He kids by saying his life took a “nosedive” after she didn’t appear. They both agree that they should have exchanged contact information. They didn’t even know each other’s last names. Jesse implies that they didn’t want to dissipate the exhilaration of that first meeting with anti-climactic phone calls or written contacts, and just wanted to pick up where they had left off. Their impractical decision sounds like it is made of the stuff of young, romantic love.

She shows some jealousy after he says he stayed a couple of days in Vienna by asking if he met another girl. He says yes, her name was Gretchen and the book’s character is a composite of the two of them. He again is kidding, and says he actually posted signs with his contact information at the train station where they said goodbye in case she was delayed. This admission shows how much he wanted to see her again. She wonders why he didn’t write in the book that the “French bitch” didn’t show up. He said he wrote an ending where she did, they are passionate together, but eventually realized it wouldn’t work out. She says that was a good ending, being more real for her, which hints at how she has become more pessimistic about relationships. But, he says that the editor didn’t like the ending, because, as Celine says, happy love endings sell better, so the chance of happiness is more what people want. The implication is that people desire the dream to come true, so they vicariously get that idealized happy conclusion in their fiction. And that was what these two also wanted nine years earlier in their real lives. But, one night together can be exhilarating in the excitement of first discovery, but long-term relationships can become boring and disappointing. So, they are individuals that meet in brief, hopeful encounters while at the same time exploring, and in a way fearing, the possibility of subsequent disappointment that their life experiences have taught them.

She says that he made her seem neurotic in his book, but he says she is, but then says he is kidding again. He often pretends that her suspicions have a basis and then admits to only teasing her. She says “it’s both flattering and disturbing at the same time,” to have a character based on oneself, implying that even though it is good to feel that one is worth writing about, it also exposes, and possibly through fiction, warps, one’s personal reality.

Celine works for an environmental outfit that deals with international law involving planetary ecology, including setting limitations on any kind of chemical warfare. She has been “doing” things in an ongoing way, which he said at the bookshop is the way one enjoys happiness and finds purpose. He, on the other hand, has written about something that happened one night in the past. She went to India working on a water-treatment plant. He says he just goes around complaining but not doing anything to rectify problems. He says that despite global warming and America being a consumer nation, he feels things may be getting better. Here is their first confrontation, but it is a meaningful one. She says that the world is a mess, moving industry to developing nations to exploit cheap labor in places that are free from pollution laws, resulting in deaths from contaminated water. Jesse says the world is bad because he can’t find an Asian publisher. But after that joke, he says that at least people are becoming aware of the ecological and financial situations and are fighting back. She says that his optimism may be dangerous if an imperialist country uses that argument as a way of placating people while plundering the world. Is his positive perspective due to him sitting on the sidelines, removed from being in the trenches in which she is fighting?

They go into a cafe and he continues to say maybe the world is progressing the way individuals evolve. He personalizes change by saying he was wracked with insecurity when younger, but he is older, and although maybe now problems are deeper, he is more equipped to deal with them (which is not accurate, as we learn later). So even though he hints at some present turmoil, he backs off from talking about it when she asks. Instead, he says he doesn’t really have any problems and is just happy to be there. He says he wishes there were more places like this cafe in the U. S. She says casually that she looked for them while she lived in America. He is shocked, and she admits that she was studying at NYU from ‘96 to ‘99. He is devastated since he has been living in New York since ‘98. The realization that he could have been so close to seeing Celine again makes it difficult to say goodbye to her as the movie goes on.

She finished her master’s degree and her visa ran out, so she returned to France. But what really made her want to leave the U. S. was all the gang violence, murders, and serial killers she would hear about. The final straw was when she heard a noise on her fire escape and called 911.  Two officers arrived, and one had to leave to move the cop car. The cop who remained asked if she had a gun. She said no, and he said she should think about getting one, because, “This is America, not France.” She told the cop she didn’t know anything about guns. He pulled his out of the holster and held it up, saying she better learn because one day a gun like his will be in her face and she’ll have to choose between her or the other person. Her paranoia made her apply for a gun, then thought better of it, which implies that this fear is a kind of madness that subverts reason. Her story epitomizes the difference between the American preoccupation with, and fear of, gun violence, and the modern European aversion for armed conflict, which is possibly because the countries in Europe were the battlefields on which world wars were fought.

Celine says, on the positive side, in America there are happy greetings between citizens, while Parisians are grumpy. She also says that Parisian men don’t really have much of a sex drive. There is more humor when Jesse says he’s proud to be an American in that respect. At this point sex is brought up tangentially. She goes on to say that when she went to Warsaw it was very gloomy, but being away from the TV and commercial distractions, she was able to feel relaxed, “at peace,” away from the “frenzy,” and could write in her journal (he jokes about her writing communist thoughts, and she says she will send him to a gulag). Her recounting of her time in Poland again stresses how her European attitude is different than the American desire to focus on acquiring things to make people happy.

He changes the subject by saying it was difficult to believe it was nine years ago that they walked around Vienna. She now moves the conversation to personal issues. She asks if she looks differently. He jokes by saying he would have to see her naked, which introduces the topic of sex again. She says her hair is not the same because she wore it down. She lets it flow around her shoulders, which is also a flirtatious move. He says she looks thinner, and she responds self-consciously about how he probably thought she was a “fatty,” indicating her need to feel attractive. He says she looks beautiful, again moving the talk into personal attraction. He asks about how he looks and she points out that he has this crease between his eyes that she says looks like a scar. It is now his turn to feel vulnerable as to his attractiveness to her, but she softens her statement by saying she likes the facial wrinkle.

These remarks lead to a discussion about getting older, and how that changes how one views life. She comments on having a nightmare about being thirty-two and then dreaming that she was the reverse, twenty-three, but then waking up and realizing she really is thirty-two. This means her reality of aging is also her nightmare. In contrast, he says he likes getting older, as life “feels more immediate. Like I can appreciate things more,” probably because one wants to savor the time left on earth. He gives an example of the different perspectives felt when he was young and now later, being older. He says he was in a band when he was a youth and that the emphasis was on the future and how they worked to become known. But, now the band doesn’t exist, and when he looks back, the time playing together was enjoyable, and he wishes he would have savored the moment more instead of looking past the fun of the present experience. So, she asks if he is “enjoying every minute” of his writing success and traveling around Europe. He admits that he is not really practicing what he preaches as he hasn’t been happy with the trip. She says in her job many are similarly focused only on the goal and not celebrating the process. For example, in Mexico, she and others were just trying to get pencils to rural school students. There was satisfaction in actions that were not involved with, “big, revolutionary ideas.” She adds, “But the reality of it is that the true work of improving things is in the little achievements of the day.” His take on the subject, as before, is more personal while she again stresses satisfaction by acting on the behalf of others.

Even though he relishes the idea, Jesse admits it is very difficult to live in the moment. He seems always to be dissatisfied with the current situation, always looking for improvement, which leads to another desire, implying it’s like being on a treadmill, trying to move forward but not getting anywhere. But then he acknowledges that “desire is the fuel of life,” so now he is contradicting what he said about just living for the moment. She says it is true that not desiring anything would be like depression. But, he says that’s what Buddhism preaches, that you’ll find everything you need if you shed your wants. Expressing an anti-Buddhist view, and now stressing her personal wants, Celine admits that she wants to desire more than life’s bare essentials, whether it is intimacy or new shoes. He counters, most likely dealing with his own frustrations, by saying if one becomes angry because one is frustrated by not getting what one feels they deserve, unhappiness results. He offers that life is supposed to be hard and that we don’t learn without failures. But he is possibly rationalizing about his lack of finding a satisfying life. In these conversations we get what was mentioned earlier about finding the universal through the specific.

Because of his frustration over the conversation about getting and not achieving desires, Celine asks if Jesse has become a Buddhist. He says no, and she says she decided a while back not to buy into just one way of thinking, and be open to everything. But, he did spend time in a monastery (showing his desire to explore spirituality) and was surprised to find those living there were not life-denying but could laugh and were “very attuned to everything.” He says that they were not “trying to hustle anybody,” presumably not looking for personal gain, and were simply “trying to live and die in peace with God.” This statement goes back to desire and he says how so many people are always looking to “get somewhere better,” whether it is “to make more cash, get a little more respect,” and their lives are exhausting. He seems to accept the need for desire, but not to the point that the failure to satisfy those drives makes one miserable and one can’t enjoy anything in the moment. His argument seems to be that when personal wants are overemphasized, it’s like digging oneself into a hole and not being able to escape. He does seem to be looking for a spiritual answer to the dilemma, and she seems content to not look in one place for all the answers.

She then brings the discussion to a carnal end when she undermines his talk about spirituality with the fact that her handsome ex-boyfriend went to Asian Buddhist monasteries where monks there are supposed to work toward extinguishing desire, and instead the men wanted to perform oral sex on him. After they laugh, he acknowledges that what Celine does in her life is worthwhile. She twists his comment toward a sexual meaning, asking does he mean her performing fellatio, and he says no, in her job. That is where she puts her “passion into action,” he says, but that statement can also have a sexual undertone to it.

Jesse doesn’t want his time with Celine to end, and continues to walk around Paris with her to recreate their previous time together, which he did in his book, and now wants to do in real life. Despite what he said, he doesn’t really like his present, and finds joy in what he found before with her. After the talk about the negativity of being consumers, she says, ironically, that it is shopping day in Paris where things are on sale. So, he comically says they should go shopping, which she says she wouldn’t inflict on him, and they go to a park instead. But, she says that sometimes she may not buy anything when she goes to stores, but just likes to try on clothes. That is sort of like living in the moment, enjoying without acquiring, without the need to permanently own things.

He says that her shopping without buying is a strategy a therapist would approve, even though he is no authority, not being in therapy himself. She jokingly asks if therapy would help with his sexual problems, bringing the topic back to the physical. He says the two of them “didn’t have any problems,” which narrows the topic of conversation to their attraction to each other. She says she’s kidding about saying he has sexual issues, and it doesn’t apply to them because they didn’t even have sex. He is amazed that she doesn’t seem to remember that they were intimate, which is not only a hit to his ego, but also because it diminishes the special time they spent together. She says that he couldn’t get a condom and that is why nothing happened. He says he even remembers the brand of condom. She says she wrote about their time in her journal, so she’ll check it, which is obviously very upsetting to him that she must do research on something so important. She says he is idealizing their time together, as he did in his book. She does concede that maybe it did happen, but she may have filed it away, because some things are better off forgotten. This statement hurts him more because it sounds like it was an unpleasant experience. She offers a convoluted explanation that it could be that when their scheduled reunion became associated with the death of her grandmother, that sad event may have blotted out happy associations with him. She tries to soften the blow by saying she cried because she would never see her grandmother again, and thought maybe she would never see Jesse again.

They follow up the discussion by talking about memories and how inaccurate they may be. She invented one about someone exposing himself to her when she was a child, but it didn’t happen, and just sprang from her mother’s warning about dirty old men. This story leads to Celine saying how impressionable children are, and that despite now being less naive, she hasn’t changed much since she was a child at her core. Jesse believes people don’t really change, despite protestations to the contrary. He says that “we have these innate set points,” which doesn’t allow for change to one’s disposition. He says a study found that people who were optimistic or miserable stayed that way whether they won the lottery or became paraplegics. He is voicing a determinism here that he later argues against and which she seems to then embrace concerning their fates.

Getting back to individual desire, she says that she would like to paint, write more songs, and learn Chinese. But, she says that she ends up, “doing not much,” which many people can identify with. He moves again toward wanting something more spiritual out of life. But her answer is “no” to believing in ghosts, reincarnation, or God. Although she seems to be at odds with him on this topic, she does admit to some belief in the magical and quotes Einstein, who supposedly said that if you didn’t believe in something magical or mysterious you were “as good as dead,” a statement Jesse agrees with.

He again talks about the importance of living in the moment because they could die at anytime. She asks what would they do if this was their last day on earth. He says that he would not talk about personal things like his book, or even about long term problems like the environment, probably because that would lead into a future that doesn’t exist for them anymore. But, picking up on the previous conversation, he would want to discuss the “magic in the universe,” since most likely it would make him feel some type of connection to the universal. But, he then expresses his desire for her because he says he may want to have these lofty discussions but in a hotel room where they would indulge in repeated bouts of lovemaking. She plays along about why wait to go to a hotel room and just do it on the park bench they are passing. He whisks her to the bench and onto his lap. She realizes how her flirting stoked his libido, and quickly says they are not going to die today, and shyly slips off his lap, dampening the passion she is afraid will lead to painful disappointment later.

Celine tries to divert the conversation but her mind is on sex, too. Her conversation deals with how one can become emotionally hurt if there is no good communication between a couple concerning intimacy. She says that a friend of hers had problems in bed with her boyfriend, and when she told him how to please her more, he became upset. Celine says men are very fragile when their sexual expertise is questioned. Her talk brings up that fear of how relationships have trouble in the long run. She says that her friend wanted to make up a written questionnaire to determine a man’s sexual inclinations ahead of time to avoid problems later. Celine says one question would be whether there was a liking for S&M, or just a little spanking. Jesse asks if one question would be about a preference for talking “dirty?” She says the question should be about specific words. She then brings the conversation back to the two of them. She says what words would he like, and in answer to her question, Jesse says he likes the word, “pussy.” She, a bit embarrassed, yet with a smile, suggesting she is pleased, says, “Good.”

Jesse didn’t know about Celine’s musical interests and asks what kind of songs does she write, and wants her to sing one. She refuses because she doesn’t have her guitar. He jokingly asks that should they meet here in the park in six months with her guitar, and adds she may or may not show up. They laugh, but she diffuses the sexual tension by reminding him he has to catch his flight as she suggests that they head back to the bookstore by walking along the Seine.

The story, which seemed to be heading to these two finally getting together, adds a twist when Celine says that she read that Jesse is married with a four year old child, and she says she is involved with a photojournalist who is on the road a great deal. There is again humor when he asks if she has children and she says she has two kids, but she just remembered she left them in the car six months ago. She does say that even though she doesn’t have any offspring, she hopes one day to be a mother, which inserts a positive view toward wanting a family despite her cynicism regarding relationships. He wants to go on one of the boats that cruise along the Seine. He only has fifteen more minutes as the deadline for anything happening between these two draws near. She has a cell phone and he has the driver’s number, so he calls Phillipe and tells him to go to the next stop (which is translated as “Henry IV.” Jesse’s son is named Henry and he is four years old, which is a sort of nod to destiny playing a role in his being in Paris). They see the Cathedral of Notre Dame, which seems sad to us given the recent fire, especially since Celine says that the great cathedral will be gone one day, almost foreshadowing the recent catastrophe. There used to be another church there at the same location, so her comments reflect on the transience of existence. That is why making the most of the present moments is important, which echoes the plots of these movies.

Jesse agrees with the desire to fight the destructive effects of time when he says that writing his book was like constructing a building, fitting in the memories, sort of like building blocks, as a reminder of their time spent together, so he would not be able to forget the details. It is thus implied that his book could stand independent of his mortal self. She says that his intention was admirable because many people seem to act as if relationships are disposable. She then reveals something about herself, which is that each of the people she became involved with had some special qualities about them, and she feels as if she was damaged by losing those unique parts of those men when she broke up with them. She shows her vulnerability and fear of being hurt again when she says, “I’m very careful with getting involved.” She says as a child she marveled at the shadow a leaf cast or ants crossing along a path. It is the same with people, as she becomes fascinated by the smallest things about them and will always miss them if she no longer has those people in her life. For her, everyone has beautiful, unique details. She recalls when they were in Vienna she noticed bits of red in his beard and the sun picking up those highlights just before he left her. Her words emphasize the enjoyment of the moment and how that appreciation sometimes is almost immediately taken away.

He admits that he finally realizes why he wrote his book. He hoped that she would come to a reading in Paris and they could meet again. (Another interesting fact that IMDb notes, and which shows how storytellers use their lives as source material, is that director Linklater walked around Philadelphia in 1989 talking with a woman one night. He made Before Sunrise hoping to reconnect with that woman, as Jesse wrote his book to once again meet Celine in this film. Unfortunately he later discovered that she died in a motorcycle accident just before he began working on Before Sunrise. Did he make these films to experience in his art what he was denied in his life?). Celine then almost humorously says that they are really characters in a fictional story, so they had to meet again, suggesting that is what romantic stories require. Of course the irony is that is the truth, because they really are characters in a story. He bemoans the fact that she couldn’t show up in Vienna for their meeting, because he believes their lives would then be different. She says they may have hated each other eventually, that maybe they are only good for brief encounters (a reference to the movie of a similar name?), “walking around European cities, in warm climate (it wouldn’t work out well cinematically if these tales were in winter, which points to the contrivance of imaginative tales).

She says that the way things happened was inevitable. “It was meant to be that way,” she says. He questions her fatalism, which may be a form of rationalization on her part. He points out how things would have been different if, by chance, her grandmother died at a slightly different time. But, she is probably stating that there is no point in dwelling on what might have been, since they can’t change the past. He says things are just off with them and should have gone differently. Before his marriage he thought about her a great deal, and on the way to his wedding he thought he saw her on a corner near Broadway with an umbrella near a deli. She admits that she actually lived only two blocks from that corner, so it actually could have been her, which he probably interprets as a sign that they have just missed being together. 

She asks about his marriage. Jesse says they met in college, their relationship was on and off, but she became pregnant, and they married. He reports this information like he is just stating facts, without much emotion. He sounds as if he is feeling distant from his own life. When asked, he says his wife is “a great teacher, a good mom. She’s smart, pretty.” His flat delivery feels like he’s stating items on a resume. He shares that he had this “idea of my best self” that he says he wanted to live up to. That idea may have “been overriding my honest self,” about what he really wanted. He thought he had to commit, meet his responsibilities, that love was “respect, trust, admiration.” He says he felt those things, but what he leaves out is passion, excitement, chemistry. But now he feels he is running a “nursery” with someone he “used to date,” and is like a “monk” and “had sex less than ten times in the last four years.” She jokingly gets him to admit that is more sex than most monks have.

After they get off the boat, she points out that it’s only natural that his wife gave most of her energy to the child, and how could we function if we stayed in the constant state of aroused sexual energy. Celine says jokingly we would get “aneurysms.” She points out that he would not have had time to write his book. But he says it is not just about the absence of sex in his marriage. He is most likely referring to how special people we know act like amplifiers of life, enhancing our own existence, and those are the people we long to be connected to. She says a therapist friend of hers says that many couples are “confused lately.” She thinks it may have something to do with shifting gender roles. Men feel as if they must still be providers, and independent women, such as herself, just need a man to love, who doesn’t also have to financially support her. The implication is possibly men haven’t adjusted to this fact.

They meet his driver and she says it is time to say goodbye. We, of course, don’t want that to happen, and neither does Jesse. He wants to give her a ride home, and the driver agrees. While they are in the car, she says she has not romanticized her love life anymore because it lessens her pain if things don’t work out. He suggests that may be why she currently is involved with someone who is away so much. She expresses her mixed feelings about long-term commitments. She likes being around her photographer lover, and misses him when he initially leaves, but when somebody is always around, she feels it is suffocating. He points out the contradictions she is expressing. She says that she’s better off alone instead of being next to a lover and feeling lonely anyway. Many people can relate to feeling solitary in a sterile relationship. She says that she had many “blah” relationships, with “no real connection or excitement.” She has become cynical, and seems to be down on the fairy-tale notion of living happily ever after.

He asks if her love life is really that bad. What follows serves as the climax of the movie. She finally lets down her guard. She seems angry probably because it really is “that bad” for her. She tells him, “I was fine until I read your fucking book.” She says how it stirred up things, reminding her how “genuinely romantic I was, how I had so much hope in things.” Now she feels terrible because it seems like everything after their time together has been a disappointment. She most likely has become used to not expecting much out of the men she is with, but now his book and him being there has reminded her of what she has lost, what she has had to settle for.  She says that it’s like she put all of her romanticism into that one night, and he took it all away from her. She rants about how all of her ex’s went with her, then broke up with her, and eventually all of them went on to get married. They then call her and thank her for teaching them what love is, for helping them understand women. It’s as if, she believes, that she has helped others find the happiness she can’t obtain. She may not have wanted to marry these men, but they didn’t even ask her, implying that she wasn’t even worthy of being considered. She is crying now and he wants to console her, but she in inconsolable.

She demands to stop the car so she can get out, and yells that she must get away from Jesse. He tries to touch her, but she brushes him away. He is able to persuade her to stay in the car. He says that he is very happy to see her and that she didn’t forget him. She counters by telling him that he comes to Paris, acting romantic, but he is married, which, of course, just adds to her torture. He says that she is making it seem that the time in Vienna was so important, but she didn’t even remember having sex. She now admits that “of course I remembered,” as she allows herself to be vulnerable by showing how important that night was for her, too. In fact, she reminds him that they made love twice, as she seems to have wanted to block out their intimacy to accommodate her current lowering of expectations when it comes to men.

He jokes that he still likes being with her even though she is neurotic. She apologizes, saying she is upset because she is “dying inside” and has become “numb” when it comes to relationships. As she says, “I don’t feel pain or excitement. I’m not even bitter.” He now reverses his earlier superficial statement that his life is fine. He tells Celine his life is unhappy all the time. He has been in marriage counseling, bought self-help books, and tried to spice up the love life in the marriage. He says that he can’t love his wife the way she should and deserves to be loved. He only feels good when he is with his son, but “there is no joy or laughter” in his home. He says he has dreams of her whizzing by him in a train as he stands on the platform, which reminds us of their leaving each other in Vienna. He also has a dream of her being pregnant as they lie in bed and he touches her against her objections, as hope and disappointment mix in his illusion. He earlier reached out his arm to comfort her, but withdrew, implying a desire to become close but afraid of either being too close in that gesture of intimacy, or getting rejected. She now repeats the gesture toward him, also tentative about touching him in a tender fashion. He admits that he, too, may have given up on romantic love, just as she has, after they failed to follow-up on their chance nine years ago when she didn’t show up as they planned. She says that she now realizes his personal life is worse than hers, and he made her feel better for being so miserable. He says sadly, but humorously, that he’s glad his world is “good for something.” She says she really doesn’t wish her bad chances of having a happy family on others. He reassures her that she will be a great mother (a hint of what’s to come?).

As she believes he is about to leave, she now hugs him lovingly, but he doesn’t want to let her go. Jesse tells the driver he will walk Celine to her apartment, which is in a lovely courtyard where the neighbors are having a cookout. She has a sweet cat for a pet, and you can see why it would be difficult for Jesse to leave such a welcoming place. He wants her to play him one of her songs despite her reminding him of his flight deadline. They go up the staircase to her apartment quietly, seriously looking at each other, like they are coming home together. He tells her to play the waltz she says she wrote. It is a beautiful song and her voice is lovely (It’s called “A Waltz for a Night,” which should have won an Oscar, and Delpy wrote other songs for the film). It is about a “one-night stand” that she will never forget, and how no one will mean as much to her even though her lover is now far away. She sings that she just wants one more chance to make their love work. Jesse’s name is in the song. He asks afterwards did she just plug his name in, and she says of course, and asks could he really think she wrote the song for him. We don’t learn the truth, but it is interesting to suspect that maybe her song is the counterpart to his novel, as they both found their short time together was the best they ever felt, and long for more.

She makes tea as he looks at actual old photos of Delpy and her grandmother. He plays a live recording of Nina Simone. The song playing is “Just in Time,” which is appropriate for these two, finding each other before their chance to reignite their affection runs out. Celine loves Simone’s music and saw her in person. She imitates her slow sashaying and talking to the audience. As she moves like Simone, she then states the obvious: “Baby, you are gonna miss that plane.” He is good with that, and the last lines are, “I know.” He finally does “know” where he should be.

As the first film ends, we don’t know what’s in store for these two. But, you can find out if you haven’t already seen Before Midnight. But that title indicates that if you pass that one twenty-four-hour period, maybe the carriage becomes a pumpkin again, and life may never be so magical as it once was. Time can be the worst of spoilers.

The next film is Nightcrawler.

Blood Simple

SPOILER ALERT! The plot will be discussed.

Well, here is another film, after last week’s The Last Picture Show, which takes place in Texas. Blood Simple (1984) is the Coen Brothers’ first feature film, and with it they pay homage to the elements in the noir tradition, but also subvert them. The noir derived from James M. Cain novels, such as Double Indemnity and The Postman Always Rings Twice, contain a wife’s infidelity in the plots, with the woman acting as femme fatale as she manipulates the men. Even though we do have a philandering wife here, and she is a strong character, she is as much in the dark about what is happening as her lover. Usually in film noir stories, the private investigator, although usually a type of anti-hero, still has a code he follows as he tries to unravel a mystery, such as in The Maltese Falcon or Chinatown. Here, the PI undermines the tradition by having no moral center, but instead is a nihilistic killer just out to satisfy his own greed.

The first shot of the film is of a road, but there is a piece of tire tread on it, which fits in with the voice-over by the cynical PI, Loren Visser (M. Emmet Walsh) who says life doesn’t come with a guarantee, and it doesn’t matter who you are, no matter how powerful or important, “Something can all go wrong.” But, he says people still whine as if they expected things to work out okay. He says the Russians at that time declared that their system of governing was based on everyone supposedly taking care of everyone else. But here, in the United States, he says, if you complain to a neighbor, “just watch him fly.” He says he knows Texas, “and down here, you’re on your own.” He is expressing the downside of the American belief that individualism reigns supreme. There is then a cut to a car by itself on a road, at night, in the rain, epitomizing that lonesome individuality.

Ray (John Getz) is driving Abby (Frances McDormand), but there appears to be a car following them which is a Volkswagen Beetle. Abby says that for their first anniversary, her husband, Julian Marty (Dan Hedaya), gave her a gun. It is pearl handled, a sort of Texas version of jewelry. (If you introduce a gun in a story, as Anton Chekhov said, the writer better fire it later in the tale, and that is what happens here). Abby is planning to escape to Huston because, she says, that if she stayed, she would probably use the weapon on her husband. Her remark is sort of a version of “If you live by the sword, you will die by the sword,” or any other lethal device. (The fact that she refers to her husband by his last name shows the lack of emotional connection between them). Ray works at Marty’s bar, and says he tolerates the man because he’s not married to him, so he hasn’t had murderous feelings toward Marty. This statement is ironic considering what happens later in the film. But, Abby’s remark here about shooting her husband later comes back to haunt Ray. She asks why he offered to drive her, and he says that he likes her. She says they just passed a motel sign. It’s an implied suggestion to have sex. They are next seen in bed with trucks and cars whizzing by, casting ominous shadows, showing transience, not stability, and a noisy, not peaceful, coupling.

In the morning, Marty calls the motel room, surprising Ray that he knows of the infidelity. Marty is then seen with Visser who has taken pictures showing Ray in bed with Abby. Visser is cruelly sordid as he says, “I know where you can get those framed.” He seems to delight in commenting on the decadence of the world, like a man viewing the failings of humans as a sort of entertainment show. He has a cigarette lighter that has an inscription which reads, “Elk Man of the Year,” an ironic title, showing that there isn’t much in the world worthy of praise if Visser is receives an award (the lighter will be important later). Marty doesn’t like that Visser stayed there to watch the lovemaking, and he comments that there was no need for taking pictures since the PI reported that the two were together. Visser probably likes seeing Marty suffer by looking at the photos. Marty, in a threatening response to Visser saying he was just doing his job, says in ancient Greece they would cut off the head of the messenger that brought bad news. Visser laughs and says that doesn’t make sense. Marty agrees, but he notes that it made them feel better. Visser says that he isn’t a messenger, he’s an investigator, and that in Texas, killing is against the law (another ironic statement considering what Visser does later). He also says that the news could have been worse, because Marty expected Abby’s lover to be black, which shows the racism of the husband, but also Visser’s nasty comic sense. Even though Visser is the cynical one, he states with ironic humor that Marty is a pessimist, “always assuming the worst.” Marty throws his payment at the man, and tells him not to show up again. He says if he needs Visser, he’ll know what rock to look under. Visser just laughs and says Marty’s line is a good one. Visser isn’t even insulted, because he knows what he is, and doesn’t see the need to feel shame given how despicable people are, including himself. 

At Marty’s bar a black bartender, Meurice, puts on “It’s the Same Old Song” by the Four Tops, an African American group, and the local whites shake their heads, which provides a feel for the prejudice in the community. But the title of the song also points to the Coens paying homage, as Adam Nayman says in his book, The Coen Brothers, to the noir stories that preceded this one. There is a young woman at the bar named Debra (Deborah Newman), who says she is an old friend, and that she has known Meurice for ten years, when in fact they just met. It is a ploy to keep Marty at a distance. Marty still tries to pick her up, probably to get revenge for Abby. Marty says to Debra to tell Meurice she can’t meet up with him later because she has a headache. But she says wittily of the headache excuse, “It’ll pass.” He persists but then she tells him flat out she doesn’t want anything to do with him. Marty is a loathsome, pathetic character who is continually humiliated during the course of the film.

In a scene at Abby’s place, ominous music plays consisting of bass sounds interspersed with steel-like instrumentals that sound like death knells. Abby goes through her purses looking for bullets and the anniversary gun, which suggests she may, as she noted earlier, ironically respond by shooting the person that gifted her the weapon. She secretly loads the pistol with three bullets. Ray says he has to see a guy, and Abby knows what he’s thinking and warns him not to go to the bar.

But Ray goes to the bar anyway. “Sweet Dreams” is playing in the background, which is obviously in counterpoint to what is happening here. Marty looks at the workers burning trash behind the establishment, the inferno mirroring Marty’s state of mind. A bug zapper is heard crackling, an unpleasant, destructive sound that reflects Marty’s emotions. Ray confronts Marty who says he doesn’t want to talk to him. Ray says if he’s not getting fired he might as well quit. Marty then asks him if he’s enjoying himself, an obvious reference to the infidelity, and Ray is now the one who doesn’t want to talk. Ray has the audacity, given the circumstances, to say he’s owed two weeks wages. Smoldering Marty says, “No,” but goes on to say that he thinks it’s funny Ray believes Abby just cared about him. Marty says she had her followed because he believes she has been unfaithful with other men. Marty predicts she will act innocent when Ray confronts her about her promiscuity. Marty warns Ray that he’ll shoot him if he shows up there again. We have a violent atmosphere growing here, but the violence plays out in unexpected ways.

Marty sits back in his chair and looks at the ceiling fan, with its suggestion of life going in circles and getting nowhere, a frustrating symbol of existence. He tells Meurice that he isn’t going home but just will remain where he is, in hell, which fits the fire imagery and reflects a depressing vision of life. He calls Abby at Ray’s, but doesn’t say anything, trying to be intimidating. Ray, made suspicious by Marty’s statement about Abby’s alleged sexual affairs, asks if the call was for her. She says she doesn’t know because “he” didn’t say anything. Ray, his jealousy growing, asks how she knew it was a “he” calling. She asks, jokingly, if Ray has a girl, and was she “screwing something up” for him. He then turns her remark back on her, asking was that what he was doing, implying that maybe he isn’t her only lover. Suspicion and mistrust inhabit these characters, which goes along with Visser’s statement about how in the end we are on our own. She says she can be out of his hair, and he says if that’s what she wants, telling her she can leave. She then says she can sleep on the couch, showing how Marty has created doubt between them.

The soundtrack now uses a piano to show the contrasting bass and treble sounds introduced earlier. Marty is again looking at the ceiling fan, and we see Abby looking at the one where she sleeps. It is Texas, which is hot, so the actual heat coincides with the passions of the characters which overcome reason, and no fan can cool the drives of lust and revenge. Abby goes to Ray’s bed, and he reaches for her, his attraction overcoming his reservations about Abby’s motives.

The next morning, Abby gets out of bed, thinking she is safe, but Opal, Marty’s dog is there, so she realizes so is her husband, and he grabs her before she can call for help. She reaches for her purse but the gun spills onto the floor. He says let’s go outside and “do it in nature,” suggesting the base, animalistic aspect of what drives these people, also symbolized by the dog being there. As the two struggle, there is the further connection to the bestial side of people as there is a sound that mimics the dog breathing quickly. Abby twists around, breaks Marty’s finger, and kicks him in the crotch, inverting the initial appearance of her being the weaker individual. The image of Abby’s attack is one suggesting castration which adds to Marty’s humiliation process. He drags himself away, vomits, and then Ray comes out with the gun he picked off of the floor, as Marty slinks off and drives away. Ray points out how Marty appears even more ridiculous because he drove in the wrong direction toward a dead end, which is a foreshadowing of what is to come.

There is a shot of Marty’s middle finger in a splint, another emasculation image that reflects his cuckolded status. He meets with Visser in a parking lot next to his Volkswagen, so it is confirmed that he was the one following Abby and Ray to the motel. He has a doll hanging from his rearview mirror that has breasts that light up when the chain is pulled. He also asks if Marty injured himself by sticking his finger up the “wrong person’s ass.” The PI’s low moral personality is always on display. He goes on to tell a joke about a man who broke one hand, and then injured the other one protecting the first. Visser told the man that he has found true love if his wife will wipe his behind for him. For Visser, that is how low the measure of love has sunk.

Marty has a job for the PI. At first Visser says, “if the pay’s right, and it’s legal, I’ll do it.” When Marty says, “it’s not strictly legal,” (quite an understatement), Visser ethically edits his requirements by saying “if the pay’s right, I’ll do it.” Visser cackles all the time, but as he realizes Marty wants him to kill Abby and Ray, he is very serious. He doesn’t say he wouldn’t do it, but calls Marty an “idiot.” He believes Marty has been thinking about hurting his wife and her lover too much and, “it’s driving you simple.” The title of the movie comes from a Dashiell Hammett novel, Red Harvest, where “blood simple” refers to how people enter a state of mind that has regressed because of fear and violence. In this film, the characters, because of lust, jealousy, suspicion, and revenge, commit stupid acts, as Visser implies. But, the PI now refers back to his musings on Russia where people are supposed to stress the social good, and only make fifty cents a day. Marty offers to pay him ten grand. So, the “on your own” American way kicks in. Visser tells Marty to go fishing out of town and get noticed, so he has an alibi, and to hide the money transaction. Marty says to burn the bodies in the incinerator behind his place, which reflects his rage that has led him to his personal hell.

Abby finds an apartment to rent on her own, so her relationship with Ray has not been finalized. Abby is in bed at Ray’s place, wondering if she hears Marty. She tells Ray they would probably not hear him because Marty is “anal.” Instead of saying “anal retentive,” to show compulsiveness to detail, Abby unwittingly demeans her husband when she says Marty once said to her, “I’m here, I’m anal.” She points to her head, which makes the gesture imply that Marty is a shithead. She says that Marty doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s nasty, whereas Ray’s leanness of speech is “nice.” So, the same quality can be malevolent or benevolent, depending on the situation, which emphasizes how everything is relative, and not predictable. Outside the bedroom window there is at first nothing, but then we see Visser’s Volkswagen, the alternating shots helping to develop the menacing atmosphere.

Visser breaks in and takes Abby’s gun, which Marty probably told him about. He sees the couple sleeping together. The next shot is of the PI calling Marty, telling him the job is done. They meet at Marty’s bar after closing late at night. Marty, back from his alibi trip, slaps some dead fish on the table, their corpses creating an association with the murder plot. The PI again hands some photos to Marty. They appear to show Abby and Ray bleeding from gunshot wounds. Marty feels sick even though he ordered the hits, and vomits in the bathroom, which reflects on the disgusting events occurring. There is a fly buzzing around Visser near the dead fish, symbolizing the corrupt nature of the business at hand. Marty gets the money out of his safe and pays Visser. The PI says that doing this kind of killing is risky, to which Marty says then Visser shouldn’t have done it, which is exactly why we learn that Visser didn’t kill the lovers. He has a different type of murder planned that he thinks will protect his interests. The PI then shoots Marty with Abby’s gun, wipes it, and leaves it there, saying to Marty, “You look stupid now,” which is his view of humanity. There are camera shots of Marty through the circling blades of the ceiling fan, reminding us of the pointlessness of the actions of these characters, and as Nayman says, along with the repetition of “It’s the Same Old Song,” the vicious cycle of deaths that results from betrayals and violence. (The fan may be a nod to the noirish ceiling fans in Casablanca).

Ray then shows up at the bar to again try to secure his back pay, but there’s only change in the cash register. He goes in the back and accidentally kicks the gun on the floor, and the weapon discharges, jolting him out of a feeling of safety into a world of danger. He sees the blood dripping down Marty’s arm. He looks for the gun underneath the desk, which has the barrel pointing at him, which is another foreshadowing. He retrieves the pearl-handled pistol, that he knows belongs to Abby. Ray probably thinks he’s covering up Abby’s murder, but he’s not too bright in his attempt. He puts his fingerprints on the gun as he places it on the table next to the dead fish, linking the weapon to its deadly purpose. He tries to soak up the blood with his jacket and wash the garment in the sink, an almost impossible task. There is now talk outside the office and Meurice’s voice can be heard. He tries to wipe the wet floor, but it’s pointless. He at least takes the gun, but puts it in Marty’s jacket pocket instead of his own. He then hauls Marty’s body into his car. He drives by the furnace, its flames showing how Ray is now in the hell on earth that Marty mentioned earlier. But, he doesn’t burn the body, which creates problems, and shows how people immersed in violent events abdicate their reason.

As he drives, there is that lonesome ride on the road at night again, revisiting the opening scene, and reminding us of Visser’s comment about being “on your own.” On the radio is an evangelist, which adds detail to the setting, but it also is a reminder of the sins that are being committed. Also, the preacher is talking about how the end of the world is coming, which adds to the atmosphere of doom in the story. This talk is followed by the almost horror story effect of Ray hearing Marty breathing and groaning in the back seat. This realization freaks Ray out, as if he has been visited by a ghost, which is a reminder of how departed spirits are considered representative of wrongful deeds revisited on the living. As Nayman points out in his book, characters that are alive are believed to be dead. Such was the case with the doctored photos of Abby and Ray, and now, here, Marty is not dead yet. It’s similar to Gregor Samsa in Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis acting like a cockroach before he actually becomes one, or Bottom (the name says it all) in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream being an ass prior to turning into a real jackass.

Ray stops the car and runs out of it. When he goes back to the vehicle, Marty is not there. He is crawling on the road. Ray backs up the car and acts like he’s going to run him over, but stops, most likely thinking that might be a too messy way of finally ending Marty. He takes a shovel instead and is ready to use it. The shovel scraping on the ground produces a sound that grates on the nerves. Marty grabs Ray’s leg, implying that Ray is being dragged into the hell that Marty’s violent plans have precipitated. A truck’s headlights are in the distance, and Ray drags Marty into the car, trying to cover-up his actions. He digs a hole in which to bury Marty. The man is not yet dead, writhing in the grave as Ray starts to cover him with dirt. But Marty pulls the gun out of his pocket and tries to shoot Ray, his anger and violence now infecting even his last actions on earth. But, there are only two bullets left in the revolver, so there are several empty chambers. Ray takes the pistol from him as Marty keeps pulling the trigger. Marty screams as Ray piles on the dirt, the ground pulsing under the surface as Marty moves, adding to the macabre, scary movie effect of the scene.

As day breaks, Ray drives off on that lonely road again. An approaching driver flashes his lights at him, which could signify a sort of warning, and is also consistent with a feeling that anything can now be thought of as a threat. But the driver is just telling Ray that he has left his lights on. As he passes, the other driver, in a Texas style greeting, smiles and points his fingers like a gun, which takes on an ominous feel given the circumstances. The shaken Ray calls Abby from a gas station, and tells her he loves her. He returns to his place with a smiling, unaware Abby in bed.

Meanwhile, Visser is burning the original photos. He pulls out a cigarette and realizes his Man of the Year lighter and the doctored photos are missing. He, too, has gone “simple” in this criminal activity, and his judgment has suffered. We then get a shot of a ceiling fan again, reminding us of the futility of actions.

Ray didn’t sleep in the bed with Abby, worrying about what has transpired. He is on alert, but maybe he is a little afraid of his lover. He tells Abby he went back to the bar and covered things up. He says that they have to be careful, and not go off “half-cocked,” which is a gun metaphor, and is an appropriate image for what happened to Marty. He says they have “to be smart,” which is the exact opposite of how these people are behaving. Ray says that if someone shoots a man, “you better make sure he’s dead,” as if giving Abby advice about what he thinks is her botched murder attempt. He was in the service, and says that the only thing worth learning there is that if you don’t kill the enemy, he can get up and kill you, which reveals his fearful state of mind. Abby is totally confused by what he is saying. The phone rings but all that is heard is that ominous ceiling fan. Abby says it must be Marty on the phone. Ray laughs, thinking Abby is trying to deceive him about Marty’s death, and says “I’ll get out of your way,” thinking that Marty might have been right, and it was one of Abby’s other lovers on the phone. He places the gun on the end table and says she “left her weapon behind.” He is assuming she shot Marty, which is what Visser wants others to believe. This world is full of treachery which spawns fear and suspicion.

There is a brief scene which shows how Marty, after returning from his fishing trip,  left a voice message accusing Meurice of stealing from his safe and wanting to talk to him and Ray. This story was how Marty was going to explain the missing cash he was actually giving to Visser for the murders. There is a cut to Ray checking out the blood stains in his car as Meurice shows up. Ray quickly covers the blood as Meurice tells him he’s sloppy for stealing the money since he, along with Meurice and maybe Abby are the only ones, other than Marty, who know the combination to the safe. Here again deception leads to false conclusions. There is a bit of dark, foreboding humor as Meurice flicks the cigarette out of Ray’s mouth saying they are like “coffin nails.” He then lights up one himself as he leaves. There is more humor as Meurice also drives the wrong way toward the dead end of Ray’s street, as did Marty, which suggests how all people are heading to a “dead end” on their earthly journeys.

Looking for his lighter, Visser goes to the bar and sees that Marty’s body is not there. He hides when surprised by Abby, who sees that the back door window has been broken and the bolt slid open. To emphasize the “simple” nature of these people wrapped up in their irrational states of mind, she slides the bolt closed, reminding one of the saying about closing the barn door after the horses have escaped. She discovers a hammer that Visser was using to break the safe. The spooky-looking dead fish are staring at her, looking like animal ghosts. She returns to Ray’s place, probably thinking that maybe it was Ray who tried to steal money from the safe and possibly killed Marty. Nothing is as it seems in this morally compromised upside-down world.

It appears Abby wakes up and hears heavy footsteps as she washes up in the bathroom. The creaking of the bathroom door adds to the list of creepy sounds as she sees Marty somehow still alive sitting in the living room, saying, “Lover boy ought to lock the door.” He tells her he loves her. She tells him that she loves him too, but he says that she is just saying it because she is scared. He repeats Ray’s words about how she “left her weapon behind,” but he tosses her a make-up compact, emphasizing her role as a film noir femme fatale. But she, unlike others fitting the genre type, never plotted to actually kill her husband, and is not especially manipulative. Marty then throws up gallons of blood and Abby wakes up as this scene turns out to be a nightmare, but not one far removed from what is happening in the waking world of the story.

Abby returns to Ray’s place. He is packing up and says isn’t that what she wants. He does ask if she wants to go with him. They don’t know what’s happening because they are unaware of Visser’s role in the goings on, so they suspect each other. He says he can’t sleep or eat. He then says that Marty was alive when he buried him, which confounds Abby. Ray finds the altered pictures at the bar that pretend to show he and Abby were shot. He sees the Volkswagen outside that he saw in the first scene, and Ray drives away. Abby enters her apartment and Ray is there. He tells her to turn out the lights, so as not to be an easy target, since he now knows that someone is threatening them. Visser, believing Ray and Abby are a threat to him now after discovering what he left behind at the bar, is outside with a gun. Abby turns the light back on, and they say they love each other just as Ray is shot. She jumps out of the way and knocks out the light with her shoe. She hides. Visser gets into the apartment and is searching Ray for the lighter. He clubs Ray to make sure he’s dead.

The PI looks for Abby. He has gloves on to cover up his crime. He tries to open a window to the room next to the bathroom where Abby is hiding. She grabs his hand, slams the window down, and puts a knife through his hand. Nayman points out that his bleeding extremity could mean he has been caught red-handed. But, Except Abby doesn’t even know whose hand she has impaled. He starts shooting holes through the wall erratically, which is another of several references to impotence, as Nayman notes. Then he just bangs against the wall making howling sounds since he is caught like an animal in a trap, emphasizing the evolutionary reversal that takes place when violence turns people “simple.” He breaks through the wall and pulls the knife out of his hand. Abby finds her gun. She steadies herself on the floor and shoots him through the wall. She says, “I’m not afraid of you Marty,” because she knows nothing about Visser, and has no idea that her husband is actually dead. He just laughs out loud and says, “If I see him, I’ll sure give him the message.” Once violence predominates, and the “blood simple” factor kicks in, his parting remark paints life as just one dark, absurd joke.

The next film is Before Sunset.