Satisfactory Movie Endings

 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.

The Shawshank Redemption

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.

Casablanca

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.

The Maltese Falcon

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.

The Graduate

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.