They don't teach cinematic grammar in elementary schools, though they ought to. But somehow kids understand it anyway -- even before they understand spoken and written language. David Bordwell ponders this mystery in a post about final shots called "Molly wanted more," in which he describes a friend's three-year-old daughter crying out for "More!" as Snow White and the prince ride off into the sunset at the end of Disney's 1937 "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs."
"How could she know, on her first pass, that the story was ending?" he wonders. Using examples from "Snow White," "The Wild One" and "The Silence of the Lambs," among others, DB examines one of the conventions for entering and exiting movie stories, in which we move in on the characters (or they approach us) at the beginning and pull back (or they move away from us) at the end:
Thanks to the visual nature of movies, the widening or closing-off of the story world can mimic the act of our entering or backing out of a tangible situation. That's what we see in "Snow White" and my other examples. In a sense we greet the characters, and after spending some time with them we bid them farewell. [...]
... The entry/ leave-taking pattern mimics our activities as perceiving, socially inclined people. For creatures like us, to encounter a new situation or setting simply involves approaching it or letting it approach us, then becoming part of it and fixing our attention on its details. At a party, we amble closer to a knot of people we want to talk with, or someone comes up to us. Sooner or later that encounter ends or trails off, and we withdraw or turn away or watch when others depart. More poignantly, the extreme long-shot option can recall moments when a car or bus or train carried us away from our loved ones. In any case, thanks to moving images the salient features of this very common experience can be made tangible for viewers.
This convention, we might say, is just natural. Molly, who had already logged three years of social experience, could plausibly make the analogy with ease. She recognized that her encounter with the world of Snow White was coming to an end-the characters were leaving her-and could express her regret.
You can see why I, as the creator and proprietor of the Opening Shot Project (devoted to examining the various ways, conventional and unconventional, that movies set up their stories, and often suggest how they will end), would find all this fascinating. (And I can't resist the opportunity to remark that the series of dissolves that move in on Xanadu at the beginning of "Citizen Kane" were inspired by the similar approach to the castle at the start of "Snow White.")
What are some of the other cues Molly might have been responding to? I can think of a few possibilities:
1) As DB notes, the ending of the movie mirrors social conventions Molly is already familiar with. Indeed, after the Prince awakens Snow White with a kiss (to the swelling music of the movie's most recognizable song, the waltz "Someday My Prince Will Come"), he places her on a horse and she says her goodbyes, kissing each of the dwarfs, waving, and repeatedly chirping, "Goodbye!" Molly no doubt knows what kissing and waving goodbye means. And, sure enough, the "camera" stays behind as Snow and her Prince recede toward the distant castle in the clouds. Bye-bye!
2) Molly probably also senses that, since stories in books have to end somewhere, they tend to do so not in the middle of the action, with the characters' situations left unresolved, but after there's some kind of closure. That doesn't mean there's nothing left to say about the characters but that "They Lived Happily Ever After..." (that would preclude sequels!), or that every loose end is necessarily tied up, but that the major dilemmas have reached some kind of resolution: the evil narcissistic Queen is killed, Snow White is awakened by a kiss from the Prince who loves her, and her friends the dwarfs and forest creatures all celebrate. (As DB points out, the Disney "Snow White" actually begins and ends with the opening and closing of a storybook, but Molly's "More!" happened before the closing of the book.)
3) The previously mentioned swelling of the music -- and the entrance of the heavenly chorus -- is another signal Molly would surely be capable of decoding. It unquestionably feels like the grand finale of something. Perhaps it's like the way we might sense a sonata-form symphony winding up and returning to its dominant key, even if we can't read sheet music. It just feels... complete.
In the olden days (say, the 1970s and 1980s), those of us who like to sit in the front rows of movie theaters (I prefer the third or fourth, generally) could tell the final shot of a movie simply by the graininess of the film emulsion. (I doubt Molly knows from emulsion.) The optical printing of the end titles over the last shot often made it appear grainier, flatter -- and sometimes slightly washed out. Frankly, I kind of miss that texture nowadays. Digital end credits leave no granular traces.
I wonder what Molly would make of a more recent trend in movie endings -- the sudden cut to black that concludes films like Stanley Kubrick's "Eyes Wide Shut," Joel & Ethan Coen's "No Country for Old Men" and "A Serious Man," Ramin Bahrani's "Man Push Cart" ... and, of course, the final episode of "The Sopranos." These exquisitely chosen finishes are note-perfect (with one possible exception¹) and make absolute sense to (most) adults, but none of them is intended for three-year-olds.
One of my favorite movies, Roman Polaski's "Chinatown," ends with the classic pull-away crane shot (the one that got Johnny LaRue in so much trouble with Guy Cabellero in the SCTV Movie of the Week remake, "Polynesiantown"). In "The Long Goodbye," Robert Altman has his Philip Marlowe (Elliott Gould) simply walk away at the end -- to the strains of "Hooray for Hollywood," just to remind us of the convention. Altman ends "Nashville" by tilting up to the sky, and "3 Women" by panning to the left and settling on a pile of tires -- not because there's any deep meaning but because that's the end. There's nothing more for the camera to look at.
What other picture-ending conventions might be appreciated by a three-year-old -- or only by adults? What are some of your favorites, or least favorites, and why?
- - - -
¹ I think "Eyes Wide Shut" is a magnificent horror-comedy -- a companion piece to "The Shining" and maybe Preston Sturges' "Unfaithfully Yours"? -- but the final punch line strikes me as a little too on-the-nose cute.
44 Comments
I don't have a particular technique in mind but I tend to like movies that limit the falling action to a minimum and close shop as soon as the tension is relieved (The Big Sleep, Inglourious Basterds). Hitchcock especially was great at this (think of the endings to The 39 Steps, Suspicion, Notorious, Dial "M" for Murder, Vertigo, Frenzy, Family Plot). To be in the story until the last possible moment and then snapped out of it, with all the emotions still swirling around, that's what I like. Of course a movie like No Country for Old Men has a lot of falling action but no relief of tension. Every movie's different.
But I know I don't like the kind of indie endings that hold a shot on something for like thirty seconds and then a title card appears saying "Directed by..." To me all this is saying is "We couldn't think of a good ending, sorry."
'The Third Man' - even if you'd never seen a movie before, you'd know that THAT was the end of the story.
One of my favorite endings is from Peter Weir's Gallipoli. Weir freezes the final frame on the character played by Mark Lee as he dies. It is such a poignant and powerful ending. Watching the movie a second time, it feels as if we drop in on the life of the character and are privileged to watch his remaining time on Earth.
100% agree. Gallipoli is a "perfect storm" movie for me (the emotional journey of the characters spoke directly to me at that point in my life as no other movie has since), and the movie could not have ended any other way (unfortunately). Bravo.
"But somehow kids understand it anyway -- even before they understand spoken and written language."
We already know that language guides one's noetic development, and a convincing school of linguists is now arguing that complex thought is dependent on a certain level of language, so it seems unlikely that kids would understand "cinematic grammar" before understanding language.
The 'cut to black' endings, in good films, relay an instant mastery of the syntax and material. When it's in a bad film ("Dreamcatcher", for one) it's used as a cheap joke and always induces a groan from the audience (or hyena-like laughter, depending on the crowd you're with)...
And I wouldn't consider 'cut to black' is a recent trend....it's been around for a long time - at least since the start of the so-called "Silver Age"....and the Coens in particular have used it repeatedly to amazing effect -
"Blood Simple" (the water droplet)
"Raising Arizona" (maybe it was Utah...)
"Miller's Crossing" (Tom makes extra sure that hat is firmly in place on his head)
"Barton Fink" (the accidental bird-dive!)
"Fargo" (2 more months...)
"The Big Lebowski" (the bowling pins)
and, of course, "No Country" and "A Serious Man"
Some of my other favorites:
"Bonnie and Clyde" (probably started the whole thing)
Scorsese's "Raging Bull" and "The Aviator"
"Eraserhead" (this one is sound-based as much as visual)
"Eyes Wide Shut" (and I like that final line.....although try imagining the cut without ANY dialogue)
"Kill Bill, Vol. 1"
"Being There"
Woody's "Manhattan" (probably the best use of this edit I've ever seen - gives me the chills to this very day)
"Cries and Whispers" (not technically a cut to black, but to red....but works the same. and that *tink*....)
Buster Keaton's porkpie hat hanging on the tombstone. Can't get much more final than that!
My favorite endings usually hold the key to understanding the entire movie, The Social Network and Citizen Kane being perfect examples. I like to call it The Rosebud Reveal, when the audience is shown something that changes, or confirms, their perception of the ideas of the film.
There is another one that I love where there is a lot of build up and then a character, usually the main character, makes a moral decision, usually a surprising moral decision, that, again, sums the whole picture. It ends, sometimes, with a close-up. My favorite film ending of all time is Army of Shadows, which perfectly sums up the themes of sacrifice and emotional distance that arise in the film. Other examples are The Godfather Part II, Election, and, though it isn't really the ending, the duel in Barry Lyndon.
I really like it when filmmakers break the fourth wall to signal a story is over. The first two examples that jump to mind are the final shot in 400 Blows and the loudspeaker announcement at the end of M.A.S.H. In both cases, the movies could seemingly go on for quite a long time but that neatly announces the end.
And as those are two of the cleanest, most memorable closings out there, I'd say it's a fairly effective technique in the right hands and with the right context.
I think the three greatest film endings are from the three greatest films - Shawshank Redemption, Vertigo, and Raging Bull. The final pull away from the beach in Shawshank is something even Molly would understand, and it always brings tears to my eyes. Seeing Jimmy Stewart stand above the abyss of madness with Herrmann's music blaring gives me the goosebumps just thinking about it. And the long single take of De Niro reciting On the Waterfront and then practicing his boxing moves before his show, and we hear his noises with a rapid cut to black, followed by a passage from the bible...it's poetic and beautiful and just so damn awesome.
Good call on the Citizen Kane invocation/appropriation of the Snow White castle, jeeem; I don't recollect ever making that connection, even as I realize it's been stirring down there in my subconscious since my first, early-teen encounter with Kane.
Still, it's a typical example of the cinematic legacies interlayering in Kane and deepening that dream-movie's spell. Remember that in those pre-Buena Vista days the Disney company released through RKO, the studio where Kane was made. The 1937 Snow White yielded material for Welles's film, but so did other RKO predecessors. Sometimes it was a matter of sets and decor: Pauline Kael in "Raising Kane" notes a window and stair-landing left over from John Ford's 1936 Mary of Scotland. Even more evocative is the use of snippets of RKO music scores during the News on the March sequence, in particular the main theme from John Farrow's 1939 Five Came Back (one of the all-time best B-movies) and the accompaniment to the guru's rant in a better-known 1939 picture, George Stevens's Gunga Din. In this Kane was doing what was business-as-usual for makers of the for-real March of Time newsreels--but reaching for a resonance beyond mere, opportunistic snatching at pieces of soundtrack for a quick jolt. It's one of myriad ways Citizen Kane was about media and how it filtered, colored, even supplanted reality. You could say that RKO movies were the warehouse of Xanadu.
I would say the end of "Shutter Island" uses "the swelling music" device, bringing back the Bernard Herrmannesque score (Symphony No.3 Passacaglia - Allegro Moderato). Then's there also the "magic hour" shot of the lighthouse, which definitely signifies that the film will end in moments. I like how the music continues even after the cut to black; the film never really lets go of the audience.
I just watched "The Descent" the other night, which had the original UK ending. What is interesting about the ending shown in American cinemas is that it ends with Sarah seeing Juno in the car with her, implying that Sarah has gotten out of the cave but has descended in to madness. The British ending also implies a descent in to madness but its final moments are calmer than the jump ending. Interestingly enough, the sequel that was made a few years ago supposedly uses the American ending as a starting point. In that film Sarah did make it out of the cave.
I haven't thought of this in years, but the closing shot of "Runaway Train" is a classic. Everyone knows what's about to happen, but you can't see it because of the snow, with John Voight's Manny floating on top of it like an angel. Fade to a quotation from Shakespeare's "Richard III" that affirms Manny's humanity, which a number of people in the movie and out of it have tried to deny for a long time. That's victory, and you don't need to see any more.
I think a "closing shots" project would be a great companion to the "Opening Shots" project you already have going. To me, you can usually tell what a movie is really about by its final shot, in which order is restored (or not - see the Coen Brothers films you mentioned) and the director chooses the image that will linger in our memories once the lights come back on. One commenter has already mentioned the final shot of Fincher's "The Social Network," and I would add to it the apocalyptic final shot of "Fight Club" as well. (Even Christopher Nolan seems to understand this - see "The Dark Knight" and "Inception," both of whose final shots are better frame, more perfectly timed, and thematically on-the-nose than anything else in either movie.) When the director chooses to end abruptly ("Inglourious Basterds," or just about any Hitchcock film), the semi-comical nature of the shot choice is equally telling
Some examples of what I'm talking about: Michael Mann's "Collateral," "Fargo," "The Godfather" films, "Miller's Crossing," "Shane," and, of course, "The Searchers."
I'm not sure how this would register with a kid, but the ending of Kubrick's "Dr. Strangelove" is one of my all-time favorites. The combination of Slim Pickens riding the Bomb down to it's target followed by the multiple mushroom clouds of the Soviet's Doomsday Machine, all accompanied by the nostalgic strains of Vera Lynn singing "We'll meet again some sunny day…" just made my jaw drop. Perhaps one of the oddest yet effective endings for a very funny and very dark Cold War film.
Rashomon, specifically in relation to the music. It builds up the the perfect crescendo of self-realization, without every really solving the mystery in the story, which is far less important anyways.
I think most endings fall into two general categories. The first and most common is the emotionally satisfying because they are perfect ending, essentially dream fulfillment, which could be like Lubitsch perfection and Snow White as good examples or bad examples as every romantic comedy of the last two decades. The other main group of a great endings in fictional film often provides us with one more detail. A sort of shocker but this could also just provide us with a new tone or aspect that makes us re-evaluate what we know.
Type two interests me the most because it makes the tone of movies more complex, and like your opening shots, can help show us how to re-watch them. I think is typified by Eyes Wide Shut.
But, as another commenter added, imagine them saying nothing instead. Or, heck, imagine them saying anything. The second that Cruise cries there is an emotional shift and finally we can start our catharsis. You've been through all that and it's dirty, it's grimy and then the release. Just before the shopping finale, there needs to be something else that confirms we are no longer held captive in our dreams. With that comes the new emotional range that is much more human and real instead of what is based Cruise's dream state, which is driven by fear. Yes, it's a bit of a sucker punch. But it works.
Another excellent last shot was A History of Violence. How smart was it to hold that last shot just a beat longer than we are comfortable, forcing use to re-evaluate Viggo Mortensen one last time.
A Simple Man, which again forces us to re-evaluate the entire movie on biblical proportions instead of a simple man in crisis. (In fact I think almost all Coen Bros movies fall in this grouping as they seek to put a slightly different spin on what we just saw).
While Certified Copy, which also had a wonderful ending, would be an example of the opposite. While throughout the movie you are forced to re-evaluate things like a puzzle to assess what's the red herrings and what exactly (of the many possiblities) is actually going on, the ending is the perfect bookend to the story filled with questions.
I like the finality of how Michael Mann ends most of his movies with his protagonist's back to the camera, lately with a cut to black. I like how he announces "we're done with this character."
Pacino in "Heat" + "The Insider," Stephen Lang in "Public Enemies," Colin Farrell in "Miami Vice," Foxx and the girl in "Collateral," William L. Petersen in "Manhunter," Day-Lewis, Stowe, and Russell Means in "Last of the Mohicans," and Caan in "Thief."
An exception is Will Smith at the end of "Ali," but that might be because "Ali" is one of the few Mann movies (barring "The Insider") in which the protagonist has decided to find his place in society instead of turning his back on it to follow his doomed code or recede into history.
The end of "Cutter's Way" is spectacular!--never getting to see the villain intimately until that final, fateful, and serendipitous last look before Bone blasts him!--a surprise for the audience considering Cutter told him the gun wasn't loaded earlier in the sequence--, and we cut to BLACK, and ROLL CREDITS.
I'm surprised that no one so far has mentioned "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid".
The swelling music and/or pull back are staples of one of my favourite genres - the 40s and 50s swashbucklers. The Adventures of Robin Hood, Captain Blood, The Sea Hawk, The Black Swan, The Mark of Zorro. They were to that era what superhero films are today, but they're so much more intelligent than what we get today - although the pendulum might be starting to swing back.
Or, good gosh - how about Casablanca? Rick and Louis strolling into the distance to the growing strains of La Marseillaise?
I'd argue that the more money is invested in a given film, the less it is likely to deviate from accepted film grammar. Sticking with the tried and true - or in other words addressing your audience in cinematic "words of one syllable" - is the sure way to satisfy the majority of the audience.
Good call on Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. That freeze-frame effect turns the movie into a still photo, rendering the entire tale to history. Awesome.
The last shot of "Cop" (w/James Woods) is like a door being slammed on the whole picture. It's spot-on.
Kurosawa, again: his conclusion for "The Lower Depths" is equally blunt, and very out of character for him.
I'm surprised no one has yet mentioned "Persona", where the film itself essentially self-destructs.
And, most recently: "... I *am* Iron Man." BAM! Not a moment more is needed.
I think beginnings and endings in movies don't have to make literal sense if they make emotional sense.
"Magnolia"-Aimee Mann singing, very slow tracking shot towards Claudia, she is relieved and listening attentively to Jim, she looks down for a few seconds, smiles to the camera, cut to black, awesome.
The final shot of "Morocco" is the ending that gets me every time. Barefoot Marlene Dietrich following Gary Cooper up the sand dune and then to the left off screen with no change in the camera's position. Brilliant.
Cameron Crowe's Say Anything used the cut-to-black ending in a gently humorous way: it underscored John Cusack's character's claim that everything would be okay once the "fasten seat belts" sign went off. It sends the two main characters off on further adventures, which we don't have to see because we know that the hard part's behind them.
The pullaway-crane shot that ends High Noon comes to mind. Cooper's Will Kane tosses his badge into the street, and then Zinnemann pulls back the crane to show the entire town staring dumbfounded at the dead bodies of Frank Miller's gang -- while Kane and his wife drive silently, angrily away. It perfectly mirrors a shot earlier in the film when Kane walks out into the street alone just when he hears the ominous blowing of the train's whistle.
I'd throw the convention of bookends out there, especially as a convention that a three-year old would recognize. The Searchers and Rosemary's Baby come to mind (though a three-year old would not likely be watching Rosemary's Baby...).
No one has yet mentioned the very effective cut to black ending from the movie "Seven".
First the quote from Hemingway (For Whom the Bell Tolls, if I am not mistaken - "the world is a fine place, and worth fighting for."), then Morgan Freeman's comment on it ("I agree with the second part."), then black. Very good. And done in a way that ties together the entire film in a way that few other films manage to do. Did I say good? I meant exquisite.
We all know Jim is a Fincher fan. I would love to hear his take on Se7en and especially The Game.
"Chop Shop"! Perfect, but I don't know why.
My favorite final shot closes out my favorite film: In Spielberg's masterpiece "Close Encounters of the Third Kind", the Mother Ship-in essence a city of lights traversing interstellar distances - rises from the contact point behind Devil's Tower and gracefully breaches the heavens.No sooner has the infinite expanse of stars supplanted the terrestrial sky in the background when John Williams' superb score swells and the credits begin. The camera lingers on the massive craft from various angles,until finally the sequence resolves itself in a simple,beautiful shot of the ship growing smaller in the distance,eventually fading from view...as if to inform the viewer that although Roy Neary has reached the end of his adventure on Earth,something beyond imagination awaits him on a world across space,but we'll need to utilize our imagination to experience that,because this the camera will go no further.
Come to think of it CE3K also has one of the best opening shots as well: A dark screen with opening titles flashing in silence.Then the score begins, building in intensity until it erupts into a single, powerful blast of symphonic sound while visually the darkness is shattered by an unexpected blast of brilliant desert light.
It seems like a lot of openings/ending focus on an eye - a very powerful symbol, since we use them as cues to understanding other people, and convey a state of consciousness. Also the concentric circles make it one of few body parts that embodies pure geometry.
"Lost" used such shots a lot in various episodes, and the series as a whole: usually opening=beginning, closing=end.
"Avatar" ended with the eye opening followed by the cut to black, conveying that the protagonist is now actually awake/alive - as well as effectively advertising that there are sequels to come. How about that for a closing shot discussion - name some that demonstrate a filmmaker trying to get more of your money!
"Blazing Saddles," where the heroes ride off into the sunset...
A few favorites:
The cut-to-black ending of The Ruling Class made my jaw drop the first time I saw it. I couldn't decide whether I loved it or hated it, whether I understood it or was left frustrated by it, or whether it was serious or a joke on the audience. Peter O'Toole's character spends the first 2/3 of the movie thinking he's Jesus Christ ("How did you know you were God?" "That's easy: whenever I prayed I found I was talking to myself") and the last 1/3, after he is cured, thinking he is Jack the Ripper. The sequence of the conclusion, with a final murder (the only one that feels tragic) accompanied by no sound but a heartbeat, then the scream, then the baby crying, then the music, is unlike any other film I know.
Psycho: People remember Anthony Perkins's smile, the voiceover, and the fly on his hand, but for some reason they seem to forget that then Hitchcock cuts away to the car containing Marion Crane's body being winched from the muddy pond.
Seven Samurai: the four graves, the surviving samurai riding away, knowing that their victory is hollow next to the endurance of the peasant farmers.
Bedazzled (the original Stanley Donen picture with Peter Cook, Dudley Moore, and Raquel Welch as Lust): The Devil, refused readmission to heaven because his good deed of returning Stanley Moon's soul was done out of selfish motives, promises, rants at God: "All right, you Great Git -- you've asked for it. I'll cover the world in Tastee-Freeze and Wimpy Burgers. I'll fill it with concrete runways, motorways, aircraft, television, automobiles, advertising, plastic flowers, frozen food, and supersonic bangs. I'll make it so noisy and disgusting that even you'll be ashamed of yourself! No wonder you've so few friends. You're unbelievable!" Then God laughs malevolently over the end credits -- seriously, one of the creepiest laughs ever, and it just goes on and on.
Two stunning examples from recent memory are the final shots from "The Lives of Others" and "Revolutionary Road"
The double meaning of the protagonist's final words in "The Lives of Others" followed by the freeze-frame were profoundly touching after such a harrowing film.
In "Revolutionary Road," Kathy Bates' character droning on as her husband surreptitiously turns off his hearing aid essentially sums up the entirety of the film in one neat shot.
Spoiler alert!
One of the most horrifying cut to black endings of all time is for Phillip Kaufman's remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. We find that our hero, Donald Southerland, has been turned. He points to Veronica Cartwrights and lets lose a hideous inhuman squeal. Cut to black. The credits run silently. Our world is dead. When I first saw that movie as a kid, the horrifying emptiness created by that ending kept me awake quite a few nights.
My favorite movie ending is The Graduate. That hold on the characters faces as they fall changes the entire meaning of the events of the movie.
I guess it's only clear that's the end because a whole movie's worth of events have gone by and you can be pretty certain it's not going to go on another two hours.
One of my favorites: Peckinpah's *Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid*: Garrett rides slowly away from the hacienda where he's killed the Kid, and a Mexican boy trails after him, half-heartedly throwing rocks at Garrett's horse. After a while, the boy turns and walks back towards the camera while Garrett shrinks into the landscape. The boy turns and crosses diagonally across the screen, and Peckinpah freezes the shot in mid-stride, just before the boy leaves the edge of the frame, the now-tiny figure of Garrett small on the horizon, and the credits roll. Very moving, in ways I'm not sure I fully understand.
One of my favorites not already mentioned is Usual Suspects. Not just the overall approach for the "reveal" and the editing. Specifically the final shot of Spacey blowing the puff of air (pulled from earlier in the movie) and the cut to black with the single heavy musical chord. It's perfect.
One of my favorite ending conventions/signals is the 'here we go again' or (to appropriate a previous topic from this blog) "this is where we came in" moment, where the main action of the picture has been completed and the epilogue finds the main character up to his old tricks/schemes/plans and his worn-out sidekicks all start naysaying and he says 'just hear me out' or what have you.
For example, this is the way my favorite picture at the moment, Hawks' Twentieth Century ends. Jaffe berating Lily, claiming 'You've been in Hollywood too long', calling for Oliver to get him some chalk, just as he had in the beginning of the film, as Roscoe Karns declares, 'D'Artagnan rides again!"
Or The Man Who Came to Dinner, ending with Monty Woolley slipping on the steps again.
A similar, but slightly different approach could be On the Town, you see Gene Kelly and his boys get back on the ship, but three new sprightly young chaps have just off for their shore leave...
The convention was also part of one of my favorite childhood shows, Keenan & Kel on Nickelodeon. Every episode started with Keenan hatching a dim-witted plan and Kel reluctantly following along. Then at the end, Keenan would be defeated only to have defeat inspire in him a new idea which Kel would try, unsuccessfully, to talk him out of just as the credits rolled.
If we're just talking favorite endings, I recently watched Richard Lester's Robin and Marian, and man, the last 10 minutes of that is as good as anything I've seen in a while. Dave Kehr wrote that the last shot (which is, literally, Robin's last shot) was "worthy of Frank Borzage." That would be high praise from anyone, but from Dave Kehr? Wow.
Chinatown,
Butch Cassidy & Kid and very similar Thelma and Louise
Truffaut's Le nuit Americaine (aka Day for Night) with that memorable line: hope you will enjoy watching the movie as much as we enjoyed making it
Wim Wenders' Stand der Dinge (anothe movie about movies)
and my recent favorite Scorcesse's Shine a light
Two more memorable endings came to my mind:
American Graffiti, the ultimate nostalgia movie. Beach Boys singing 'All summer long'... touching
and ominous 'Soylent Green is people!'
I'll put in a quick word for Raiders of the Lost Ark. No in-depth analysis of the ending, I just think it's REALLY cool.
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