‘The End’ Review: Tilda Swinton and Michael Shannon Took Shelter, but 20 Years Underground Starts to Get Tedious

As a seasoned cinephile who has weathered countless cinematic storms, I must admit that “The End” left me feeling more like a survivor of a post-apocalyptic wasteland than an audience member. This film is not for the faint-hearted or those seeking traditional narrative structures. Instead, it’s a thought-provoking journey into the human condition, guilt, and the capacity to rationalize our misdeeds – all wrapped in a melancholic musical package.

In an unprecedented and daring move for documentary filmmaking, director Joshua Oppenheimer chose an unconventional approach with “The Act of Killing.” He asked the film’s subjects, who were once part of Indonesia’s death squads, to reenact their past atrocities on camera. Why should his first narrative film stick to a traditional storytelling method?

As a movie enthusiast, I envisioned “The End” as an unusual post-apocalyptic musical, set within the confines of an underground bunker where a select group of individuals have stockpiled exquisite art and priceless wines in anticipation of a disaster that might’ve been self-inflicted. This concept originated from a documentary I was working on about a “rich and ruthless family” (my words), but eventually, I decided to take this project down an entirely unique path.

The nearly three-hour long movie “The End” avoids conventional drama and instead delves deeply into philosophical themes such as guilt and our ability to justify our wrongdoings, which might appeal more to art enthusiasts than mainstream viewers. Interestingly, the film was conceived prior to the COVID-19 pandemic, yet it seems it overlooked the fact that audiences are already tired of stories revolving around confinement.

The story, in its final form, could have been more engaging if it included an element of suspense or thriller, perhaps involving a danger that affects the small group of characters. However, Oppenheimer remains firm against incorporating such elements. Ultimately, “The End” is not as much a musical as one might expect, but rather a sophisticated drama with a few more melancholic original songs than you may assume. Oppenheimer penned these songs, while Joshua Schmidt, a theater composer new to filmmaking, composed the music.

The story commences in an unassuming manner, featuring a wide-eyed 20-year-old (George MacKay) who struggles to remember life before confinement, as he fiddles with an overly flawed diorama (in which Indians, settlers, and slaves live together peacefully at the base of the Hollywood sign). He might be reminiscent of Ariel from Disney’s “The Little Mermaid,” perplexed by her myriad of peculiarities, innocently fantasizing about surface life. As day breaks, “A Perfect Morning” serves as a charming opening song, even though MacKay’s voice, along with the rest of the cast, lacks the polish of professional singing. It seems that Oppenheimer intentionally chose this unrefined quality.

Known merely as “Son,” this young individual was born within a shelter designed for doomsday, having no knowledge of any other existence. Despite his parents’ repeated tales over the past two decades, he is aware only of their personal account of events. His mother (played by Tilda Swinton) often recalls her time with the Bolshoi Ballet, yet it seems uncertain if she ever truly danced there. The father figure (portrayed by Michael Shannon), an energy baron, questions whether our industry played a role in increasing temperatures, suggesting he may be denying the truth about the world they abandoned – a world they might have inadvertently destroyed.

In this secluded sanctuary, shielded from humanity’s troubles, I, the boy, am fortunate to have my parents preserving whatever vestiges of culture they can, with the assistance of a trusted physician (Lennie James), a dedicated butler (Tim McInnerny), a diligent maid (Danielle Ryan), and an esteemed old friend (Bronagh Gallagher) from our past. My mother devotes her days to meticulously rearranging our invaluable artwork adorning the walls — such as Renoir’s “The Dancer,” Monet’s “Woman With a Parasol,” and stunning, expansive landscapes — and fretting over minor details like imperfections in the plaster.

For approximately two decades now, they’ve been holed up in a self-sustaining bunker, with the concept of normalcy becoming increasingly distant and irrelevant. They faithfully celebrate every holiday with little, peculiar ceremonies. Apart from these events, each day seems indistinguishable from the last, as Swinton poignantly sings towards the two-hour mark during her heart-wrenching (albeit high-pitched) “Dear Mom” solo. Their daily routines consist of swimming lessons and emergency drills, survival being their utmost concern – yet, one can’t help but question its significance.

The story suggests that it would have been wiser to prevent the apocalypse instead of planning for it. The movie’s ending is like the long, melancholic note of a trombone in a disaster film, where seven characters survive while everyone else perishes. However, after the apocalypse, the parents brought up their son to be a historian of their distorted account, and they warned him about strangers at the same time.

Later on, a character named “Girl,” played by Moses Ingram, appears. She confesses her regret for leaving her kin, stirring up deep feelings among the others who endured tremendous hardships during the initial stages of the apocalypse. Her son, once full of faith, now questions: “Mom, did you witness people trying to enter back then?” These inquiries don’t just cause discomfort within the family but also highlight the widening generation gap occurring in contemporary America, as young adults find it challenging to forgive their parents for their past actions.

Mother firmly decided against welcoming this stranger into their circle. “We must establish boundaries,” she states. Eons ago, such transgressions were met with severe consequences, as evidenced by the scars borne by the butler. Yet, after two decades of isolation, there was a yearning for information from beyond their walls. With trepidation, they allow the Girl access to their secluded world. Among the cast, Ingram is the sole individual who exudes hope. The rest appear as dried-up remnants of humanity, maintaining appearances as best they can. Audience members might find parallels between their experiences during the pandemic and this intruder’s arrival, but Oppenheimer approaches her with a cautious sense of optimism.

Alongside “Melancholia” production designer Jette Lehmann, Oppenheimer showcases an elegantly modest bunker nestled within a salt mine, yet designed for comfort, much like Elon Musk’s inspired base depicted in last year’s “A Murder at the End of the World.” This project effectively conveys its intellectual concepts through genre elements. Oppenheimer could have benefited from adopting a similar strategy; however, his reluctance to do so results in “The End” being labeled as high art (while potentially sacrificing commercial appeal).

Which viewers will ultimately watch “The End”? This film, debuting at the Telluride Film Festival, appears both doomed to fail and praised by critics and spectators who appreciate the importance of taking risks. The audacity of Oppenheimer (and his financiers) deserves recognition, yet his portrayal of a peculiar kind of folly can’t help but seem foolish itself. Before any musical reaches Broadway, it undergoes numerous workshops and tests to ensure its success. This production seems to have bypassed these essential stages, favoring the director’s vision over the needs of the audience.

“Perhaps no other movie compares to ‘The End,’ making it unique in its own right, and while everyone associated with it would hope for more viewers, it seems to be a cryptic message veiled subtly, ripe for discovery by those daring enough to uncover it.”

2024-09-01 03:47

‘The End’ Review: Tilda Swinton and Michael Shannon Took Shelter, but 20 Years Underground Starts to Get Tedious

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