A friend of mine complained that she has watched many movies and streaming TV series that did not provide satisfactory conclusions to the stories. She urged me to write about ones that ended well. So, before analyzing the next film, here are a few well known motion pictures that have noteworthy endings.
I’m not talking about how Tim Robbins’s character Andy
escapes from Shawshank Prison and acquires the corrupt warden’s money, although
that is something the audience has reason to cheer about. I want to focus on
the very end of the film when Morgan Freeman’s Red has finally received his
release from incarceration. He has become what he calls an “institutionalized”
man, meaning he has spent so much time behind bars, he doesn’t know how to deal
with the outside world. But, Andy left him a note and some money so he could
join him on a beautiful beach in Mexico, restoring boats for tourists. Earlier,
Red spoke about how dangerous it was to hope in prison, because those dreams
would just be crushed. Now he can finally allow himself to look forward to
something. He says, “I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my
friend and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my
dreams. I hope.” Some of the best lines ever spoken at the end of a movie.
How could I not include the ending to this movie. It’s
not just because of the rounding up of the “usual suspects” line that allows
Humphrey Bogart’s Rick to escape arrest for shooting Major Strasser. And yes,
the surrendering of Ingrid Berman’s Ilsa to Paul Henreid’s noble Victor as Rick
gives his “hill of beans” speech is a wonderful scene of romantic aching. But
the ending filled with baptismal rain is a scene of redemption for Rick and
Claude Rains’s (appropriate name give the scene) Louis Renault. United now,
their “beautiful friendship” will go on to symbolically point toward the
movement away from isolationism to battling the Nazi threat before them.
This film contrasts fantasy with reality, as film noir
characters dealing with the seedy underbelly of life seek escape by acquiring
an almost mythical object that they hope will transport them away from their
dark realm. When Gutman (Sydney Greenstreet), Cairo (Peter Lorre), and Brigid
(Mary Astor) realize that the black bird they have sought is a fake they come
crashing back to the real world. Brigid must take “the fall” for her crimes, and
she boards the elevator, going down, of course, to be arrested. The elevator
grating looks like prison bars, so she already appears imprisoned. Humphrey
Bogart’s private detective, Sam Spade does not buy into the delusionary vision
of the others (his last name reminds one of calling “a spade a spade,” a saying
that appreciates facing facts). The quote he uses to describe the phony falcon
is perfect for the film. He borrows it from William Shakespeare’s The
Tempest, as he says the object is, “the stuff that dreams are made of.” The
stress here is on the imagined ideal world versus the harshness of transient
mortality.
When Harry Met Sally …
At the end of all Hollywood romantic comedies, one person
either runs, takes a cab or airplane, whatever, to reconnect with that
individual’s love interest, leaving the audience with the fairy tale “They
lived happily ever after” ending. This film is no different in that way. Harry
(Billy Crystal) is alone on New Year’s Eve and finally decides he wants to be
with Sally, so he runs to the party where she is. What’s great is the speech,
by screenwriter Nora Ephron, he gives that finally wins her over, which, in my
opinion, is the best dialogue about loving another person. Harry delivers it
not in a sweet manner, but like he’s delivering an argument to make a point. It’s
almost like he wishes the illogical truth weren’t so, but he can’t escape it.
He says, “I love that you get cold when it’s seventy-one degrees out. I love
that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a
little crinkle right there when you’re looking at me like I’m nuts. I love that
after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes.
And I love that you’re the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep
at night. And it’s not because I’m lonely. And it’s not because it’s New Year’s
Eve. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of
your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as
possible.” Doesn’t get much better than that.
The film actually ends, appropriately, on the couch
where throughout the film couples briefly state how their long relationships
began. Harry and Sally now are included among those others.
This whole film appears to be about protesting the false
values of the white upper-middle class, with Benjamin (Dustin Hoffman) realizing
the banality and hypocrisy of his world, and revolting against it. The
conclusion of the film has him driving and running (there it is again) to unite
with his love, Elaine (Katharine Ross). He is a Christ-figure, presenting a
crucifixion image as he bangs on the glass partition of the church’s second
floor as Elaine is about to be wed to a clone of the established order. When
she calls out to him he springs into action, wielding a crucifix (director Mike
Nichols stressing the Christian symbolism). They run off, supposedly toward
that fairy-tale ending.
But wait. Despite taking action here, throughout the
film, Benjamin looks like he is passive, letting the world’s current carry him
along. We first see him on a conveyor belt at the airport, and he exits the building
through the wrong door. He floats in the family pool, and later appears to be
running in place as he approaches the church. Is he really able to escape the
forces around him holding him back? When he and Elaine get on the bus to take
them away, the looks they present are not joyful, but appear to show what is to
follow is a letdown. They may be wondering: What do we do now? They are leaving
on a bus (again, passively being carried forward), but Simon and Garfunkel’s
“Sounds of Silence” plays, as it did in the beginning, repeating its
pessimistic message, implying that, in the long run, no progress has been made.
