Worst movie ever. AVOID AT ALL COST! This is the most boring movie ever made.

Can't get enough of awkwardly sitting at the dinner table while your married friends bicker? Well do we have a special treat for you. Your least favorite cinematic couple is back with a vengeance in Before 3: The Duel at Midnight. Not only do you get the grandiose, adolescent philosophizing you've grown to know and love from the first two films, Linklater now treats you to extended real-time couples' arguments with one special added bonus: you can't get up and leave the room.If you're in the middle of the 'Before' series, it's not too late to stop now. If you haven't started yet, save yourself. Your hipster film student friends have no taste and you're not missing a thing.

I actually managed to watch this, but after, I felt that I had wasted a piece of my life. Nothing happens in the entire film. It is just a bunch of people jabbering away. There is an absolutely interminable section which is merely a conversation taking place between two adults in the front of a car, while two young girls sleep in the back. It goes on and on and on and on ... much like this review. It's impossible for me to imagine who this movie is for. I got it for my wife because she understands emotions and people and so on whereas I mainly understand science and engineering and rockets and stuff. But my wife had a hard time with it as well. I can definitively say, if you're a man, this movie is not for you, unless you also want to waste a piece of your life. For masochists only.

One of the initial shots of Before Midnight is not something that has been seen before in the trilogy; the camera swings around to reveal the family that we have been anticipating since 2004, twin daughters sleeping in the backseat. The camera had been mostly static previously, capturing the couple as they walked aimlessly and talked endlessly. The settings, Vienna and Paris, were beautiful and exotic, but they would have fallen in love in any city in the world. It does not look cinematic, and yet that initial shot at once conjures up so many questions of this new chapter of their lives. This time, they vacate in the southern Peloponnese and it is just as stunning, but there is nothing blissful about the experience, and the most riveting scene takes place in a shabby hotel room, where Linklater swaps the iconic medium two-shots that have been pervasive throughout the trilogy, unblinking in their long takes, with shot-reverse-shot, and cuts up the space between the couple as they argue. It is not until the final shot that Linklater really uses the setting, and we dolly back to unveil the shimmering ocean and gorgeous harbour-side twinkling in the night. There is another distinct break from tradition; whereas Sunrise and Sunset almost exclusively featured only Jesse and Celine, madly falling and re-falling in love, Midnight has a cast of other characters, and it is here that it slightly falters. For all the philosophical musing and long-winded anecdotes about love, they feel like ideas and conversations for our main characters, but instead of trimming sensibly, they have been reintroduced into the dialogue of others. It is easy, for example, to compare the wide-eyed, lovestruck experiences of the young couple to another young couple that met on a train all those years ago. And when Xenia Kalogeropoulou heartbreakingly reveals that she is forgetting the little things that her late husband used to do, and how it is like losing him all over again, it feels a lot like Celine's monologue in Sunset, where she ends with one single clear memory: the red in Jesse's beard. These feel less like fully realised supporting characters, and more like younger and older versions of Jesse and Celine. But returning to the pair reveals a deeper and more mature narrative yet. Sunset ended on a magnificent cliffhanger, but we all knew that the heartbreak of the missed opportunity was too great, and that they would not let another chance slip away. They have twin daughters. Celine's accent comes and goes but has noticeably faded. Jesse's novels are now famous enough to be recognised by Greek receptionists (and this creates probably one of the best and more subtle scenes of the movie, where Celine is visibly bothered by being placed in a little box and designated as a character in Jesse's life - I have no doubt that the Madeline version of Celine is fully realised, successful and happy - moreso than Celine anyway). When they rewind time and talk of that fateful train encounter all those years ago, it is startling how different they are now; Jesse hesitates just slightly when asked whether he would act the same way, and it is clear that Celine is no longer that radiant, carefree muse that caught his eye so long ago. And then there is perhaps the finest scene in the trilogy yet, which physically separates the pair within the frame and has them explode over each other's dialogue. There is so much raw emotion that spills from their mouths, but I think it is not overly vicious for the sake of hurting the other person. Like the back and forth pinball conversation in Vienna, it is defensive; they each attempt to explain their own perspective and their own feelings on juggling the various responsibilities of their chaotic lives. It is easy to write an argument and have two characters drown each other out in their anger, but in this case they pounce onto every word, broken promise, illogical leap and change of opinion, and throw it back into each other's faces, trying to gain an edge. Every phrase is twisted and extrapolated to its extreme, all except one; when Jesse confesses that he 'ruined his life' for her singing, it is such a clear opening for Celine to attack and tear down his arguments on how committed he is, but she relents, possibly because she thinks their relationship is still worth saving. He too, does not explode when she hangs those fatal words in the air and admits she does not love him anymore, because he is not so sure he is ready to believe it is over. The previous two films feel like daydreams compared to Midnight. A fresh-faced youthful Jesse described love as an unselfish, giving and beautiful thing. But it is clearly not as easy to say that when juggling such an emotionally painful predicament like their's. In the midst of their argument, there is a moment of such startling and brutal honesty. Celine confronts him with accusations of an affair from long ago (and I am sure that this is not the first time it has been brought up), and Jesse does not outright deny it, but adamantly reaffirms his love and commitment to her. It is so brilliant because we believe his lifelong commitment, but we also know that the affair has happened and has lingered over their relationship ever since. Infidelity is something that is so often treated as a comedic device in movies, but it is so easy to forget that it is a very real thing in many real life relationships. Here, we trust that their bond is strong enough to withstand such an affair, and move on from it. The red in his beard may have vanished long ago, but their love has matured and learned many lessons.