As a film enthusiast who has spent countless hours immersed in the world of cinema, I must say that Joshua Oppenheimer’s latest masterpiece, “The End”, left me utterly spellbound. This post-apocalyptic musical is not just a visual and auditory feast, but also a profound exploration of human nature, especially when confronted with the end of civilization as we know it.
In December 2023, there were rumors that Mark Zuckerberg, CEO of Meta, was constructing an extensive subterranean shelter on a remote part of Kauai, Hawaii. The details are heavily guarded by non-disclosure agreements, but it’s said to be around 5,000 square feet and self-sufficient with its own power and food sources. When the worst happens, as many billionaires plan, Zuckerberg will reportedly have protection from the fallout.
Watching Joshua Oppenheimer’s post-apocalyptic musical The End, it’s hard not to ponder Zuckerberg, ensconced in his fortress of immense wealth. The film, debuted at Telluride, offers a thought-provoking and challenging mental workout as it delves into the fate of a family that played a role in global devastation but insulates themselves from the fallout. Do they feel remorse or sorrow? Do they ponder their actions? Or do they just carry on, comforted by the self-serving and distorted narratives they construct to avoid accountability?
In his first full-length film, director of “The Act of Killing,” Oppenheimer employs a symbolic family to delve into a unique form of psychological trauma, cushioned by the deceptive assurance of wealth. The characters are Tilda Swinton as Mother, Michael Shannon as Father, and George MacKay as Son. They reside in a luxurious shelter reminiscent of Zuckerberg’s, 25 years following an environmental disaster that rendered Earth inhospitable. Their daily rituals, shown initially, consist of group breakfasts, piano lessons (Mother), constructing miniature replicas of the past world (Son), emergency drills (all), and rearranging expensive artwork (Mother) within the parlor. As these scenes unfold, Oppenheimer guides us through the opulent bunker he built with production designer Jette Lehmann. Each room, adorned with harsh, glaring lights and extravagant decorations, mirrors the family’s illusions.
Unlike his elders, Son hasn’t experienced the world as it was before. Instead, he was born in a bunker, and his knowledge is limited to the area within the compound. This lack of experience works to Father’s advantage, as he is a cunning and scholarly man whose actions at an energy company have contributed significantly to planetary catastrophe. He persuades Son to assist him in writing a memoir — a tale that paints the family in heroic and revised light.
When the two gentlemen gather together, Mother, tormented by dreams of leaving her loved ones behind, becomes anxious over the paintings, primarily landscapes depicting former lush meadows, or confides in her companion, Bronagh Gallagher, who additionally serves as the cook. Everyone within this shelter, including the Butler and Doctor, organize their lives to conceal the truth about their pasts from Son.
The play “The End” begins humorously as it portrays the family’s clever dodges around a complex issue. Right off the bat, Oppenheimer incorporates music, with a tense trio between Father, Son, and later Mother setting the tone for the musical pieces to come. The director penned the lyrics for each song (Josh Schmidt composed the melodies), and they are mostly somber and wistful, fitting for a play about the apocalypse. However, notice what and when the characters choose to sing. While the lyrics may not be particularly catchy, they do provide insight into how music helps them evade the harsh realities of their situation.
The aversion to intense emotions becomes strikingly clear when the outsider (Moses Ingram) arrives at the bunker. Her unexpected presence challenges the tranquil life of the family, particularly as she and Son develop romantic feelings for each other. Originating from the harshness of the outside world, this newcomer bears the fatigue and inquisitiveness typical of a survivor. She probes with questions and endeavors, frequently without success, to engage in emotional discussions.
Initially, this family makes an attempt to eliminate her, later on, they merely tolerate her presence. This transition seems effortless for this family, who were never required to justify their behavior. The story doesn’t delve into the racial implications of a black woman finding refuge with a white family, but it does hint at her feelings of estrangement. At one point, Mother expresses confusion about her presence, referring to her as a stranger.
In her quest for identity, the girl’s interactions with her family become increasingly crucial in a simple narrative. Initially, she serves as a reflection, compelling them to reconsider themselves. It’s not a surprise when they turn away from what they see. Over time, she adopts their customs and slowly embraces their perspective of the world.
The strong suit of “The End” lies in its powerful acting from the cast. They dance, sing, and jump (choreographed by Sam Pinkleton and Ani Taj) within the bunker, evading responsibility by means of increasingly dramatic songs. Mackay’s characterization of a sheltered adult is exceptionally captivating, as is Ingram’s gradual metamorphosis into a hollowed-out version of her former self.
In essence, “The End” demands total compliance with the peculiar principles that control this family and Oppenheimer’s aspirations to revolutionize music. It’s a noble yet uneven attempt. The decision to narrate this tale as an allegory restricts the film in its second part, which, following a lively beginning, becomes sluggish. With fewer character details provided, interest in their post-apocalyptic setting declines.
In the concluding scenes, Oppenheimer’s movie regains momentum, sparked by fresh inquiries about the tales we may find it necessary to fabricate as the inevitable end approaches.
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2024-09-01 18:55