The Art of the Imperfect Ending - Lachlan Budd

The imperfect ending is one that has become commonplace across cinema. Although Hollywood had traditionally favoured the satisfying, happy ending up to the start of the Second World War, both the effects of the horrors and the new attitudes and ideas that came with change caused new approaches to the media of film and led to an influx of more imperfect, or even simply sad endings to film. Though there were of course others that didn’t follow the pattern of the fairy tale ending before this point, the original romantic masterpieces, Gone with the Wind (1939) and Casablanca (1942) were some of the most popular earlier pieces to break this mould, while the resulting revolution of film noir across the 1940s and 50s cemented loss and unhappiness as popular choices to finish a film. Two films whose endings perhaps summarise this feeling of post-war disillusionment and bittersweet melancholy best are Vertigo (1958) and Chinatown (1974).

Although perhaps not the perfect example of film noir, Hitchcock’s Vertigo borrows much from the style; retiring detective Scottie dons the fedora reminiscent of the likes of Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon, and the woman, Madeleine Elster, whom he is asked to follow by a client, appears the picture of a femme fatale. Furthermore, despite Herrmann’s soundtrack not quite being as melancholic as the long saxophone pieces he later utilised in Taxi Driver, its haunting string melodies are certain to have inspired it to some degree, and it clearly contains elements of the more clear noir that came before it. However, Hitchcock refuses to be pinned down into any one style or genre, offering some vastly contrasting stylistic choices so as to refuse to let it be defined simply. Colourful cinematography and a warm colour palate explode through the screen, seen in in the bright red of the Golden Gate bridge surrounded by lapping water, and various wide establishing shots are used throughout, clear contrasts from the confined, claustrophobic and monochromatic styles of noir. These act to separate the film from noir, yet perhaps leave a suggestion that underneath a façade of brightness there is darkness, shown partly in the film’s ending, the resonation of which has partly caused the immortalisation of the film into today.

 

[SPOILER ALERT] Having been asked by a friend to follow his wife, Scottie is manipulated into falling in love with her, not realising he is being played as art of a greater plan of murder so as to allow a plan of faking a death to succeed. After various twists and convoluted turns, in the high bell tower of the church where he had once saw his love fall to her supposed death, the film culminates in its ending. In the dimly lit darkness of the tower, with the layers of lies and betrayals peeled away, the two lovers are left alone in each other’s arms; the acrophobia that once haunted Scottie he has overcome, climbing the steps of the tower that had become a recurring motif of sadness and frustration for him. Despite the ominous dim lighting and storm clouds in the background, as a viewer you convince yourself the darkness and corruption has been overcome; despite the air of noir, both the aforementioned cinematography and colours act to trick you into allowing yourself to believe some sort of happy ending is possible and that Hitchcock will ultimately allow satisfaction. However, it is simply a trick. In this moment of intimate perfection, everything suddenly changes, and again the lingering darkness takes over. Before, just as he had forgiven her, the haunting melody had again crescendoed, but here silence takes over. Out of a dark corner of the room, a nun appears, a character never mentioned before or after, who startles Judy, causing her to jump from the top, before pulling the bell and letting the chimes ring out. Without the context of the film, it admittedly seems an odd choice, yet seems to fit strangely perfectly; as Hitchcock masterfully pans the camera out, leaving Scottie’s sheer shock and horror apparent, the haunting strings are replaced by far darker, more ominous horns. Not only are expectations entirely subverted, but desire and death become intertwined, and the fickleness of fate and the inescapability of consequences can be seen.

Polanski’s Chinatown is an important piece of cinema, not only in its own regard, but also in its revival of film noir, following the style’s move out of the limelight across the 1960s, manifesting itself in the creation of the neo-noir style, such as in classics like Ridley Scott’s Bladerunner in 1984 and David Lynch’s Blue Velvet in 1986; indeed, its relevance is so great that it continues to influence films even going into the 21st Century, with Drive and Nightcrawler both exploring the corruption and moral ambiguity that have become fixtures of the style. The film, set in pre-World War II Los Angeles, follows private investigator Jake Gittes as he becomes caught up in a water scandal after the murder of a man who had jointly helped build the city’s water system and who he had been asked to follow, expecting simple infidelity that his job usually entails. As is common in revisionist approaches to set genres, traditional tropes of the genre are subverted and new ideas introduced; here, various changes throughout the story seek to distance itself slightly from classic film noir. Jack Nicholson’s Jake Gittes begins as the cynical and morally ambiguous stereotype of the protagonist of the film noir yet develops over time into someone that fights against corruption, who works for the interests of others, and who the audience trusts and supports. Although by no means perfect, his ethics clearly shift. Moreover, after continually equivocating and showing certain disloyal tendencies to Gittes, it is eventually revealed that the motives of femme fatale Evelyn Cross, are not of greed or lust, but rather of protecting family, and that all she did was selfless and necessary; thus, rather than the traditional traits of manipulation and betrayal, an innocence and empathy is attached to her.

[SPOILER ALERT] In the finale, events and storylines again culminate over the motif of a place; where in Vertigo it was the bell tower, here it is the titular Chinatown, where after finally finding out Evelyn’s dark secret of her father’s incestuous nature and the nature of her child, Gittes seems to finally embrace his new-found morality; using previous connections and quick thinking, he is able to set up a chance for the mother and daughter to escape. Having been taken by the police, Gittes arrives arrested to see Evelyn and her daughter being approached by her father, the perpetrator of many of the back stabbings and acts of corruption that had plagued the film. After a confrontation, she shoots her father and her car takes off, followed by the police shooting at the car after warning her. Everything rests on it; if she succeeds, Gittes’ turn to morality is vindicated and the future of a young girl saved, and hope remains. You simply long for the car to take off into the distance and never return. But as time progresses, the horn blares out, the car draws to a stop and you realise the worst. As Polanski’s camera lifts up to reveal the scene, the body of Evelyn slumps over, revealing a bullet hole through the eye and making true the audience’s worst fears. The camera turns to Gittes, with the handheld feel and dark lighting emphasising this gritty realism. The police’s actions bear no repercussions, while Gittes is so disgusted and disillusioned that he becomes almost cold and apathetic. Nothing he can do can affect anything and again the sheer unadulterated control of this higher, inescapable power becomes present.

Ultimately, Gittes is left with a cynical attitude and nothing changes in the end, signalling a return to classic noir. All of Gittes' journey to some sort of redemption and meaning through a move to morality is left redundant, while the corruption he sought to expose is unchallenged. Again, like the film’s almost reluctant return to the sadness and disillusionment of noir, this impossibility of escaping death, fate and the unknown, corrupt power that plagues the film is shown.