Plenty of heat Before Sunset

Three kinds of cinematic lurve, just in time for February 14. Richard Linklater's 1995 Before Sunrise threw Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy together on a Paris-bound train and followed as they jumped off and went walkabout through a Viennese night - exhilarating proof that watching people talk can be the most delightful form of voyeurism. Celine (Delpy) is funny and forthright; Jesse (Hawke) is a romantic with a veneer of cynicism.

Within the circumscribed space of their one night together, using no more than a simple camera and a couple of young actors with terrific chemistry, Linklater gives us love, anticipation, memory, fear and regret. His two characters are humorous, honest and self-probing in the way only intelligent twentysomethings far from home and flirting for all they're worth can be.

Nine years later, all three came back for more. Before Sunset could have spoiled everything; instead, it's another magical journey into the minds of two bright, thwarted people. We're in Paris now, and his plane leaves that evening. The dialogue is more adult but the blend of intellect, passion and humour is as intoxicating as ever. Only pitiful extras tarnish the sheen.

Cèdric Kahn's Red Lights is an adaptation of a Georges Simenon novel about marital breakdown. Antoine (Jean-Pierre Darroussin), emasculated by his wife's professional success, downs a few beers as he awaits her in a Paris cafè. The two are heading south to pick up their children from camp and relax en famille for a fortnight. By the time HèlËne (Carole Bouquet) turns up, her husband is caught up in self-righteous fury. On a long trip with frequent bar stops, he drives their marriage towards selfcombustion - at 200km an hour.

It's a compulsively watchable film, with glimmers of hope among the conflagration. The only difficulty is not fast-forwarding as the tension builds. Extras include rather cerebral interviews with director and stars.

No tension issues with cheery, cheesy romance Wimbledon. Paul Bettany plays Peter, a tennis could-have-been. He's on his way out until he meets Lizzie (Kirsten Dunst), an aggressive Yank hell-bent on winning Wimbledon and happy to use Peter as recreational exercise between times. But romcom life is not that simple: Bettany goes all soppy on her, while she, spurred on by dragon dad Sam Neill, tries to stay cool.

Fortunately, the leads have enough charm to carry this predictable but watchable nonsense and the pro tennis looks quite believable, even if the story never does. What look like many extras is actually one doc split several ways. Most absorbing are the bits about Wimbledon itself, which allowed the filmmakers to shoot on centre court.

Nina Caplan