Louis Theroux documentaries always come as a welcome surprise. To start with, you’re never quite sure when he might actually be making them. Then, you’re never really sure what he might be focusing his trademark specs on. Even when all his prying questions have been answered and the film is done, dusted and in the can, you’re still never quite sure when you’ll actually be able to see the finished product on TV. Similar to how he handles his oddball interviewees, it seems Theroux likes to keep us on our toes.

The documentarian’s latest work is notable for a couple of reasons. Firstly, it marks his long-awaited return to England. Recent years have seen Theroux travel to America in search of the weird and wonderful - and who could blame him. However when fans spoke, he listened and this new mini-series (neatly nestled in the lead up to his first feature film, My Scientology Movie) focuses firmly on UK shores and the stories within. Straight off the bat, it’s interesting seeing Theroux work in an environment where he’s a known entity, having spent so many years being the unknown abroad. It doesn’t impact too much but does seep in here and there. “He always does that…” remarks one interviewee slyly to the camera following a typically Louie-like question. We know he does, and so do his subjects.

Secondly this story is painfully tragic, perhaps even more so than his previous shows on things like Autism or Dementia which make no mistake, were definitely very upsetting. It’s interesting. Tragedy is dependent on the existence of hope and here, each of his broken interviewees are undoubtedly faced with a choice: to go with hope and get clean or to continue down the cider soaked rabbit hole. While it may take a conscious decision to become viciously right-wing, an unashamed paedophile or start believing in aliens - for the subjects of Drinking to Oblivion, the choice isn’t as cut and dry as you might think.

Here, Theroux looks at the harsh consequences of England’s favourite pastime: drinking to excess. He introduces us to a selection of sufferers; some victims of circumstance, some who have simply had the after-effects of drinking sneak up on them. Almost all of them however have experience of past trauma and seem to live a depressingly cyclical lifestyle. As is the case with most of his recent documentaries, Theroux’s subject matter seems so big, layered and complex that even he struggles to find a practical, rational solution to it all. More than once in the show’s 50 minute run time we join Louis in the chin-scratching confusion of what the right thing to do actually is.

It’s not all doom and gloom though and that expertly crafted interview style Theroux has honed over the years is put to great use, unassumingly disarming tense guests in unusually tense situations. Theroux even manages to find us a much-needed silver lining out of the whole ordeal too. However when all’s said and done and those end credits start to roll, it’s hard not to wonder how long it can possibly last.

The third segment in Richard Linklater’s Before trilogy has a tricky job on its hands. In each previous installment, Linklater made the wise decision of leaving the fate of the seemingly destined Jesse (Ethan Hawke) and Céline (Julie Delpy) in our hands - or more accurately, our imaginations. This ambiguity allowed for an infinite number of possibilities, each as golden as the time the pair spent together meandering around Europe’s streets.
 
Picking up another nine years later, Before Midnight provides a definitive answer to all your questions and paints a very real picture of long-term love. We find Jesse and Céline in Greece at the end of a summer-long holiday spent with some of Jesse’s literary colleagues on an idyllic island getaway.  As we had all hoped, he did indeed miss his plane in Paris and has since started a new life with Céline. They have twins – a pair of mini-Célines - and the spark of chatty excitement that originally brought them together is clearly still present. It’s nice.
 
However it’s not all sunshine and roses. Their new life together came at a cost – namely, Jesse’s son Hank and a particularly bitter ex-wife. The latter he can deal with, despite her spiteful litigiousness and intense dislike for Céline but it’s the growing distance between his estranged son that’s the real kicker. Hank has been staying with them all summer and when the time comes for him to head home, it’s clear the long distance thing is taking its toll on the paternally paranoid Jesse.
 
This sensitive issue forms the backbone of Before Midnight. The fiercely independent Céline feels threatened; convinced that Jesse won’t be happy until she's swapped her career aspirations for housewife duty in the States. Jesse meanwhile is unwilling to give up the happily ever after he fought so hard to get yet feels convinced that some compromise must be made.  All this tension comes to a head during a kid-free date night in a cushy Greek hotel, transforming what should be the perfect evening into a raging argument.
 
It can be a little painful watching the cracks emerge as this once joyful couple go for each other’s throats but it’s undeniably real. A bittersweet reminder of the sometimes difficult reality of long-term romance. What happens when the honeymoon period ends and the day-to-day reality kicks in? You’re soberly reminded of your own individuality and how hard it can be to keep two people on one path for a prolonged period. People grow, and sometimes they grow apart. It can be heartbreaking.
 
Linklater’s not cruel though, he’s just a realist and this stark honesty actually makes Before Midnight stronger. When all’s said and done and the dust has settled, he’s keen to remind us why we joined him, Jesse and Céline on this journey in the first place. Things aren’t tied up in a nice bow but in real life they never are. Jesse and Céline have both fought hard for their relationship and hopefully this won’t be the last time we see them together.

Before Sunset picks up nine years after we left Jesse (Ethan Hawke) and Céline (Julie Delpy) in the train station following their unforgettable day together in Vienna. The climactic moments of Before Sunrise saw the smitten pair leave their future happiness to chance, the same force that pulled them together in the first place. Meet again in Vienna in exactly six months time. That was the plan. The question is: did they stick to it?

The second film in Richard Linklater’s Before trilogy finds its wayward couple in a different European city at different stages of their lives. Jesse, now a successful author having written a popular book based upon the night he and Céline crossed paths, is in Paris for the final date in a whirlwind book tour. While wrapping up questions from journalists keen to believe his thinly veiled work of ‘fiction’ is indeed based on a romantic reality, he sees a familiar face. Having heard he’ll be in town, Céline, now a passionate campaigner for environmentalist justice, couldn’t resist the opportunity to drop by. Suddenly, we’re back on familiar ground.  

It’s not all smooth sailing, though. After a death in the family forced Céline to bail on her and Jesse’s fateful meeting their lives were forced down vastly different routes and the pair remain equally damaged by this missed opportunity. Jesse is now a father and stuck in a seemingly loveless marriage while Céline remains fiercely independent, almost to a fault; doubting that a ‘happily ever after’ is even still on the cards for her future. It’s bittersweet stuff but as the duo stroll around the beautiful Paris streets and urban gardens and sail up the Seine, they find a brief window of opportunity to work through their problems before Jesse has to catch a plane home.

The middle part of Linklater’s story may be the best, despite all three being stand out works of relationship drama. The director once again opts for long, meandering shots of dialogue as Hawke and Delpy, both of whom share screenplay credits this time around, try to make sense of how their lives have turned out so far. Linklater’s pacing to get these characters back to the hopeless romantics they once were is subtle and masterful. Both start guarded and nonchalant but as they delve deeper into the Parisian streets (the unofficial third member of the relationship) their defences are let down and their cards laid on the table.

The climax of Before Sunset is just as ambiguous as that of its predecessor - leaving audiences on tenterhooks as to whether Jesse leaves this would-be life and returns to his domestic reality. However, the sparks and simmering excitement in the film’s final moments are undeniable. If part one was about wreckless optimism, part two is full of quiet determination.

Undoubtedly the best thing about watching movies is randomly stumbling upon a film that instantly resonates. Some hidden gem that’s been sitting somewhere, silently waiting for you to find it and press play. Sometimes the mark of a good film isn’t in its immediacy, more its longevity. Can its story, themes and performances withstand more than one watch? What about the test of time? If the answer to these questions is yes, then you’re on to something special.  These are the reasons why this review is focusing on a film that’s over 20 years old.

Director Richard Linklater has always enjoyed playing with people’s expectations when it comes to storytelling and with 1995’s Before Sunrise he flipped the romantic comedy genre on its head with touching results. In the process, he also inadvertently created a time capsule that captured stars Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy at their most potent. All this in a film that’s more dialogue than anything else. In fact, it's this focus on dialogue that gives Before Sunrise its raw edge, lending it an air of instant relatability.

We open on an old German couple arguing on a train. Not that romantic, admittedly - but it instigates Parisian Céline (Delpy) to ultimately cross paths with Jesse (Hawke), an American tourist on a soul searching trek around Europe. The pair instantly hit it off and when Jesse arrives at his destination he impulsively convinces Céline to spend the day with him wandering around Vienna until he needs to catch his connecting train the following morning. Heading into the city, the pair spend an evening exploring Vienna’s cobbled streets and getting to the heart of what makes each other tick. However before long it becomes crystal clear that this chance encounter has quickly evolved into something much deeper than either anticipated.

In the twenty-one years since the film’s release, Linklater has produced two sequels exploring the continued development of Jesse and Céline’s fortuitous relationship. This unique level of hindsight provides the perfect framework through which to view the messages and themes of the first movie in the trilogy. At its core, Before Sunrise is a celebration of the reckless optimism of youth. From Jesse taking a gamble on inviting Céline to walk the streets of Vienna with him in the first place, to Céline actually agreeing - Before Sunrise is littered with examples of throwing caution to the wind. Even right down to its hopelessly romantic climax - there’s still a feverish optimism there that everything will work out, everything will be okay, regardless of the odds or the challenges ahead. How could it not?

It’s hard to resist.