Final Shots Pt. 2

Last time, I made a list of my favorite final shots from movies. My rule was that the shots I chose had to be literally the final shots, not just the final scenes, of their respective movies. (See previous post for a full explanation.) In re-reading that list just now, I think I made the mistake of putting all of the best final shots in the first half of the list. Those weren't really numbers six through ten on my master list; they were just the first ones that happened to come to mind. By the time I finish this next installment, I may decide that those original five really deserve to be numbers one through five. At any rate...

5.) The 400 Blows (1959)

Roger Ebert is in on the short list of my favorite writers of all time. People know him as a film critic, and of course, he probably earned most of his fame from rating movies on tv, but I consider him more of a film expert than a critic, and I can't read his writing without thinking that I'd love to have him as a professor in my own personal film class. He isn't widely known for his wit, but he should be, because it is incredibly sharp. Your Movie Sucks, a collection of his bad reviews of the last ten years is currently on my night table and is, without exaggeration, one of the funniest books I have ever read. I bring up Ebert here because I feel that if he were to make this list, the final shot from 400 Blows would have to be his Number One. In a 1999 article marking the film's 40th anniversary, he says of the film's young protagonist, "He has just run away from a house of detention, and is on the beach, caught between land and water, between past and future. It is the first time he has seen the sea."

The boy, Antoine Doinel, is a kid who can't catch a break. He is bullied by his fascist teacher and ignored by his aloof mother. He steals a typewriter towards the end of the film, and is sent to a house of detention. We watch from above as Antoine plays soccer with his classmates. He throws the ball in from the sidelines and then, in the middle of the game, he makes a break for it. He sneaks under the barbed wire, and then he runs, and he keeps running - Forrest Gump style - for what seems like an eternity on the screen, until he reaches the beach. He is the only person on the beach. It looks cold out. He seems almost surprised when his feet hit the water, but he eventually slows to a halt. He turns back to the camera, and - freeze frame on Antoine's uncertain expression. It's an unexpected shot, and it's just a little bit puzzling, but I think it works because I doesn't tell us what to feel. A big triumphant smile wouldn't have worked because it would have hit us over the head with "happy ending." At the end of this film, I have the feeling that this kid is going to turn out just fine. That detention center is just one tiny place in a big country. He still has plenty left to explore. Also, that pizzicato viola (I think?) is haunting.

6.) Once Upon a Time in America (1984)

The ending of this film, in which Robert De Niro plays a Jewish gangster coming to terms with his betrayal of his best friend played by James Woods, is baffling. And now that I think about it, it's not all that different from the final shot of 400 Blows. In both, we have a freeze frame of a character's face, fixed in an uncertain expression. (And both are set to beautiful scores - this Morricone melody is one of my favorite pieces of movie music.) Here, we have De Niro's character Noodles, doped out of his mind in a Chinese opium house, with a big goofy smile fixed on his face. At this point in the film, we have seen Noodles do nothing but brood for the past 227 minutes, so needless to say, this expression is a little alarming. SPOILER ALERT (Seriously, if you haven't seen this film yet, don't read this part. See the movie first and form your own impressions so we can talk about it. I'll even lend you my copy.) Why is Noodles so happy? What is the significance of this final shot? After thinking about these questions, listening to the DVD commentary, reading what other people had to see, etc. I think the only conclusion is that one third of the movie has been an opium dream. The sequences in which De Niro is an old man provide his character with some measure of redemption, at least in his mind. Woods' character has survived an ill-advised heist on a federal building and has now changed his identity to Secretary Bailey. How did he survive? This and other key questions are purposely left unanswered. There are no answer expect that this entire situation has been spawned by Noodles' drug-addled brain.

Whether or not you buy this theory, this is a haunting final scene in which a tortured character tries to relieve himself of a heavy burden. Just watched this clip again and yup, movie music doesn't get much better.

Note - Much has been made of the fact that this film appeared in two different iterations: the normal 227 minute version, and a shorter one, which is apparently unwatchable. I don't know if you can even get your hands on the so-called director's cut any more, but even if you can, don't.

3.) The Truman Show (1998)

I'm pretty sure everyone I know has already seen this. Truman finally makes it by boat, through the artificial tempest, to the sky, which is really the wall of the giant bubble. He has just realized that his whole life is a lie and now, with the whole rest of his life in front of him, he wishes his viewers a cheerful goodbye - "Good morning, and in case I don't see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night!" - and disappears through a door in the "sky." If you haven't seen the movie in a while, you may remember this being the final shot. It almost is, but not quite. The movie shifts to the viewers, whom we have seen intermittently throughout, emotionally processing what they have just watched. What they have just watched is, of course, the most important moment in the life of a real man. Truman's great triumph is followed by a shot of two night workers watching the show. One offers the other a slice of pizza. The other asks, "What else is on?" The first asks, "Where's the tv guide?" And that's it.

I think about this little moment a lot - after the Superbowl, after American Idol, even to some degree after the presidential inauguration. I think the point is, it's just entertainment - and people who are being entertained, especially those who watch tv, have short memories. The nature of entertainment is that what seems groundbreaking one minute, is destined to quickly become yesterday's news.



2.) A Clockwork Orange (1972)

The full version of the novel doesn't end this way - it ends with Little Alex actually being cured of his violent impulses, and some editions include a foreward by Anthony Burgess, explaining why this was his original intent. Screw original intent. To me the story makes more sense with this ending: the doctors congratulate themselves on a job well done, they pose with Alex for photographs, the camera closes in on Alex's demented smile, and then we get a shot of his demented mind. Sure enough, at this moment, when he is supposed to be "cured," Alex can think of nothing but a little of the old in-out, and ultra-violence. "I was cured alright" is chillingly ironic.

If Alex were really to be cured at the end, I ask you, what would be the point of this movie? That our basest human instincts really can be conditioned out of us, just by prying our eyelids open and forcing us to watch horrible films? Anthony Burgess, the author, was a smart guy. In writing the novel, he created "Nadsat," a new language for Alex and his droogs. I'm sure he had his reasons for actually curing Alex at the end, but I'm glad Kubrick didn't listen to him. Thanks to him, we have a creepy final shot, a creepy final line, and an inability to ever think about the song "Singin' in the Rain" the same way again.

1.) The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

"Get busy living, or get busy dying." I watched this again recently, and had to admit it was just slightly corny. I think it hasn't helped that it is guaranteed to be on cable exactly one in two times you turn on the tv - and somehow always at the last fifteen minutes. Regardless, this is an unforgettable montage: the warden offs himself, Andy takes his money and gets away, Red gets out of prison and doesn't succumb to depression like Brooks. He finds the box underneath the stone wall, right in the spot where Andy said it would be. (Implausible, but whatever.) He takes the bus down to Fort Hancock, Texas. Cut to some beautiful beach in Mexico where Andy is working on his boat. The camera pulls out just as the two approach each other to commence what promises to be a long friendship.

I'm usually not entertained by movies where everything I want to happen actually happens. I need some death or some suffering or some tragedy. I'll make an exception for this movie though; you just can't go against its power of optimism. (The King's Speech, which I saw a few days ago, is another movie that falls into the same category.)

Here's my final order, since this is a top ten list after all:

10 - The Shawshank Redemption
9 - Primal Fear
8 - A Clockwork Orange
7 - The Godfather
6 - Once Upon a Time in America
5 - The Truman Show
4 - The Wrestler
3 - The Bicycle Thief
2 - 400 Blows
1 - Babel

Honorable Mentions: The Last Picture Show (desolate town), The Departed (Old State House), The Hurt Locker (Sgt. James reports for duty), Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (snowy beach)