Review: It’s ‘The End’ but deep underground, a sheltered family keeps on singing in denial
As a film critic with over two decades of experience under my belt, I must say that “The End” is a truly unique and thought-provoking piece of cinema. Director Joshua Oppenheimer has once again demonstrated his mastery of storytelling, delving into the complexities of human nature in the face of impending doom.
Titled “The End,” directed by Joshua Oppenheimer (“The Act of Killing,” “The Look of Silence”), this production offers a somber musical experience that revolves around a small cast – possibly the last six individuals on Earth: an oil magnate and his spouse (played by Michael Shannon and Tilda Swinton), their subterranean-bred grown son (George MacKay), and the trio of aides (Bronagh Gallagher, Tim McInnerny, Lennie James) granted entry into this subterranean sanctuary.
Something awful is outside. We hear allusions to a blood-red sun, a poisoned sea and buzzards. But this salt mine-slash-sanctuary boasts walls hung with fine art and a dinner table set for wine and Champagne. These survivors have walled-off suffering for more than 20 years. Still, they can’t breathe.
In essence, they’re not just singing the songs in a figurative sense; the actors truly have the lung power for over two hours of vocal performance. The songs, penned by Oppenheimer for lyrics and scored by Joshua Schmidt, are nothing short of breathtaking, delivered with a modest allure. If a voice falters, it falters genuinely. The emotion is the main focus, supported by resilient violins, horns, and subtle melodies that unexpectedly leap an octave to strike unanticipated notes.
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In the depths of an underground shelter, a family persists in their melodies amidst what seems like the bleakest music from the future. Prior to this project, director Joshua Oppenheimer had no experience with creating a musical.
However, the atmosphere here feels overly sterile and devoid of individuality, much like the stiff characters in vintage films depicting 1950s bomb shelters. Each character appears to be meticulously rehearsed, mimicking the poses of mannequins. As they enter the room one by one, holding coffee cups, they seem nonchalant, but when they notice others singing about another beautiful day ahead, they join in, as if being polite. They sing together, “We endure the darkness together / our future shines bright,” maintaining their postures as straight as church choir members.
The situation is clear from the start, and for an hour, that’s all we have: The arrogant businessman, the shallow wife, and the sheltered child who sings canary tunes to crayfish tanks and attempts to teach tricks to fish. These characters aren’t complex; they’re merely stereotypes dining on Dover sole, while many others are struggling. In the writing of Oppenheimer and Rasmus Heisterberg, each family member has one prominent flaw that is repeatedly emphasized, which could reduce the movie’s length by a third. It seems suffocatingly obvious: this house is so drab and chilly that something will inevitably break.
At the start of the movie, when things seem slow and uninteresting, the family stumbles upon a young survivor (Moses Ingram’s character) who has survived long enough in the apocalypse to trace their smoke trail. If you find this hard to believe, just wait until you see how this seemingly rough-living refugee – a girl who has never worn shoes before – not only knows about workers’ rights from TikTok, but remains unfazed by these luxurious surroundings.
Initially, Ingram and MacKay seem an unlikely pair, almost as if they’re the last fertile individuals left on earth. However, they grow to appreciate each other, performing a duet that sees them dashing through the salt mine with open arms. Choreographers Sam Pinkleton and Ani Taj cleverly opt for free-flowing movements rather than precision. Eventually, the film transforms into something stunning.
Oppenheimer is pursuing something fundamental to the essence of a musical. To be in harmony means to agree. It’s a public demonstration of unity – a promise to echo the same illusions. However, it’s only when these characters break away that they reveal their true selves through song. Even then, they’ve been so overwhelmed by deceit that they can’t always find the correct words. In one song, Swinton, who shows her vulnerabilities under the glossy-eyed gaze, wears a see-through raincoat while emitting raw, mournful sounds that merge with the sorrowful strings. As for the innocent son, portrayed by MacKay with youthful innocence and an infectious brain worm, during his most rebellious solo, he gyrates suggestively and exclaims, “Nyah, nyah!
Oppenheimer’s fascination with lies is similar to Da Vinci’s obsession with the skeleton. He’s deeply intrigued by how lies are formed, adapted, and manipulated, shaping a person’s journey through life. When Shannon’s father claims that “oil drilling was merely a pretext for wind farms, clean water, and chimp conservation,” he’s essentially rewriting history for his own benefit and to project an image to his son. The extent of the damage he has inflicted remains unclear and inexpressible. We know there were riots because he adamantly denies their occurrence.
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Joshua Oppenheimer, the director behind the Academy Award-nominated documentary ‘The Act of Killing,’ delves into the process of creating the film and its subsequent impact.
In this apocalyptic scenario, it’s likely that the death toll in this situation surpasses the one depicted in the 2012 documentary “The Act of Killing.” This film showcased the past atrocities committed by Indonesian death squad soldiers who defended their actions as heroic. However, when Shannon’s fossil fuel magnate counters with the argument that everyone else used cars just like them, he raises a valid point.
It seems as though Oppenheimer feels a mutual remorse and desires to offer redemption to these erring individuals. On their own, they beseech forgiveness, reminiscent of Shannon climbing a pile of salt with a taxidermied bird, as if he imagines himself the lead in “The Sound of Music.” Instead of sealing their fate irreversibly, “The End” grants these artificial beings an opportunity to regain their humanity. However, this choice becomes a torment for them.
This play values quirky imperfections; it includes a comical mini tap dance by McInnerny, Shannon’s gleeful hyena-like laugh, and so forth. Oppenheimer frees his script from the constraints of depicting how this eerie mansion operates. Details such as the food supply or waste disposal are irrelevant, and the characters show no interest in what lies beyond their cave. Instead, the focus is on subtle changes in characters’ emotions, which, given their polished demeanor, can be as significant as a fresh ripple in a stone garden.
Ingram’s intruder exhibits an unusual mix of joy and sorrow simultaneously. The young woman struggles to suppress her feelings, causing a tremor deep within this fortress of solitude. The movie, enveloping her, exists on a fragile divide – it is both lukewarm and forceful, a chunk of soft, bland luxury. Yet, it provokes contemplation on the unasked question: what sets being alive apart from truly living?
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2024-12-07 00:02