The Art of the Subtle Ending

[Spoiler alert: I’ve tried my best to avoid it here, but some of the descriptions in this article may spoil the ending of the films mentioned.]

Just minutes before the end of the film, I had high hopes for Promising Young Woman, the 2020 film that is a big screen embodiment of the ‘Me Too’ movement. It seemed that Hollywood might, for once, allow a film with a truly unsatisfactory ending. The film is a revenge story of a woman whose friend was not listened to when she reported a rape, which ultimately destroyed not only her own life but that of her best friend’s as well. What more powerful commentary could there have been to allow the film’s protagonist, seeking justice for her friend, to fall short? However, as the shocking penultimate scene ended, the Hollywood ending followed, and justice did indeed prevail. Perhaps the final scene was needed to give viewers a sense of justice served. But as a piece of art, it missed a golden opportunity to show a message that presumably the filmmakers were trying to convey: Those in power will abuse it and get away with it.

The ending of Promising Young Woman was typical Hollywood, but would be largely out of place in European cinema. A French film, which I’ll avoid naming to prevent a spoiler, is demonstrative. At the end of the film, the two main characters have a seemingly chance encounter, though he has intentionally followed her into the cinema and the encounter is not as random as it seems. He tries to apologize, and she doesn’t want to talk. She’s worried about them being seen together in public. He feels guilty for having tried to frame her for the murder of his girlfriend (in reality, he accidentally killed his girlfriend during a fight), though she didn’t betray him to the police when she could have. She leaves him and walks into the theater to watch a film with her children. They see him walking by and point him out. She nonchalantly acknowledges his presence. The film ends with her contentedly watching the film, and him walking away down the street, alone, posters for his upcoming concert tour in the background.

This seemingly simple ending brings a quite involved plot to a close. There are no fireworks or explosions, but the simplicity of the ending covers up a much more profound truth revealed in the last moments: She has seemingly moved beyond her obsession with a celebrity she once idolized, and with whom she covered up the accidental killing. Or has she? She didn’t betray him even though he tried to use her to cover up the killing without her knowledge. After that failed, he tried to frame her once she figured out what he was up to. So maybe she hasn’t gotten over him completely? There is no narration or monologue explaining her thoughts, and the audience can only guess at what exactly is going through her mind as we watch her eyes watching a film in the cinema, eating popcorn. It is the perfect execution of a subtle, profound, and ambiguous ending.

Many films have a subtle ending simply because they don’t really have a plot, but that is not the only reason to have a subtle ending. When done right, a perfectly subtle ending wraps up the plot and leaves the audience full of uncomfortable uncertainty. A well-known Danish film does indeed end with a bang – a gunshot – but the shot misses, and the shooter’s identity is not revealed. With that one shot, though, the audience realizes that the accusations of pedophilia leveled against the protagonist have not disappeared, despite a public clearing of his name and reconciliation with the false victim/accuser. Nothing need be said for this to be revealed. Instead of closure, the audience gets only questions.

I can barely watch Hollywood films anymore. Firstly, so much of Hollywood fare has become entirely formulaic. As Richard Ayoade once described the movie View from the Top: “If you’ve seen any film, you’ve seen this film. It is very similar to all film.” However, it is not just the predictable formula that is unappealing, it is the lack of subtlety. Even high-brow fare is compelled to hit the audience over the head with the exact conclusion they are meant to draw from the film. Little is left to the imagination. If it wasn’t exactly clear what political or philosophical message the director wanted to convey, there will be a monologue just before the credits where the trick is revealed. In Up in the Air, George Clooney’s character comes to the realization that his detached lifestyle may not be as satisfying as the settled family lives of others he has consistently ridiculed. But director Jason Reitman – whose films I do genuinely like despite this complaint – could not let us draw our conclusions about whose life is more fulfilling, those with families and those without. The message would have gotten across anyway, but we needed a series of monologues at the end to explain it to us and remove all doubt.

Nonetheless, Hollywood’s need for a clean ending reveals something endearing about American society: We are uncomfortable with ambiguity. We prefer clear moral lines, obvious distinctions between and good and evil, etc. We want cinema that reflects the life we aspire to, not the life we have. These cultural traits have many positive effects on our society. But there’s something nice about not being handed the thoughts you’re supposed to have on a silver platter: You see, this was the bad guy. This was the good guy. This is exactly what happened, and this is what you’re supposed to think about it. The good guy usually wins, and the bad guy loses. It becomes unsatisfying once you’ve seen the light.

There are Hollywood films with subtle endings, of course. Hurt Locker comes to mind right away, but that’s really the result of a lack of plot. A truly brilliant subtle ending is one that wraps up a complex plot, but in a way that still leaves ample room for interpretation. A more typical approach to Hollywood films is the 1957 classic film The Bridge on the River Kwai, based on the novel by French author Pierre Boulle (also the author of Planet of the Apes). The end presents a clear dichotomy: either scenario a will happen, or scenario b. In the book, a perhaps-less-satisfying but psychologically fascinating scenario a occurs. For the movie, the end was changed to the opposite scenario, the more predictable and boring, but emotionally satisfying, scenario b. Boulle was a master of bizarre psychological scenarios in his novels (a heroin addict who can only overcome his addiction by focusing his energy on creating the purest heroin; a state executioner arrested for murder because he is found to poison his victims just before beheading them). In changing the ending of The Bridge on the River Kwai, Hollywood just couldn’t allow us the uncertainty of an ending where the line between right and wrong or good and evil is not quite clear.

There is apparently a Hollywood remake in the works of the Italian film Perfect Strangers. I can’t imagine they’ll allow the original ending – in which, I would argue, the message is that some things are better swept under the rug – to stand. Maybe we won’t all find true love, and sometimes we will have to power through something less than ideal to preserve the life we have. The point isn’t to justify the moral shortcomings of the characters, but rather that the revelation of all their secrets may not bring happiness and fulfilment to all. I’m ready to stand corrected, but I suspect a Hollywood remake of Perfect Strangers will necessarily change the ending as it stood in the original. In the Hollywood version, the characters’ revelations of infidelity and other shortcomings will lead to couples abandoning their failing marriages and seeking out their true soul mates, to live happily ever after, rather than ruining their lives as in the original. Even if I’m wrong and Hollywood does allow the original ambiguity to remain, the point stands that Hollywood would never have made such a film in the first place. It is necessarily a remake of the original.

I could try to bring this essay to a satisfying conclusion that proves my point correct and irrefutable, perhaps by using a perfect example from a film to demonstrate why the subtle ending is indeed the best way to end a film. That’s what a Hollywood movie would do. Instead, I’ll end with a contradictory observation or two: In an increasingly polarized America, perhaps the unambiguous cinematic ending is at least one thing that signifies our unity rather than division. As long as we can still unite on the side of the hero against the villain, and easily identify which is which, maybe we’re doing alright as a country. On the other hand, the most radicalized on both sides of the political spectrum have no shortage of certainty. Quite the opposite. Maybe something that pushes them towards an increased ambiguity and introspection, to contemplate the possible righteousness of their opponent’s cause, would help bridge the increasing chasm between the opposite sides of the political spectrum. There is some great European cinema waiting for anyone willing to take the plunge.