'The End' Review

The End had its Canadian Premiere at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival. Neon will release it in theaters on December 06.

Time is an illusion for the family at the center of The End. They’ve lived in their underground bunker for about 25 years now, the only reference to that being the youngest child now being in his later 20s after moving in early childhood. They have perfectly synchronized watches and senses of time, even though they haven’t seen the sun since submerging, and, for the most part, there’s no one else left on the surface. So, what’s the point of being able to tell time, then?

That question could be extended to almost everything the family occupies themselves with. Father (Michael Shannon) is tasking Son (George MacKay) with writing his biography, complete with a triumphant origin full of fearless charity work and sacrifice. Never mind that he was the president of one of the most polluting energy companies in the world, or that this book will never be read by anyone who doesn’t already know these fables. Mother (Tilda Swinton) spends her time creating galleries in the living rooms out of the assortment of paintings they took with them. They are a perfect family unit, so much so that they must break into a harmonious song to prove it.

Yes, even in the darkest depths of the Earth at the end of humanity, you can still find a reason to sing and dance. Co-writer/director Joshua Oppenheimer, famed for his one-two documentary punch of The Act of Killing and The Look of Silence, makes sure that his fiction feature debut is as bold and audacious as one would expect. The joys and guilt of still being alive merge through the dozen-ish musical numbers, all of them allowing the characters to momentarily express the deep feelings they perpetually repress.

The Golden Age influences of Jacques Demy and Vincent Minnelli supply the bravura necessary to surpass the inherent limitation of a confined space. The camera swirls endlessly throughout the halls and rooms as the actors, supplemented by Marius De Vries and Josh Schmidt’s booming orchestrations, sing to the balcony, their confidence more important than their physical abilities. They sing in a literal echo chamber, with the widescreen cinematography capturing the monumental beauty of the enormous salt mine that encloses their bunker.

The paintings that cover every inch of the wall have an unrealistic beauty to them, portraying the Earth as a heavenly paradise. They are the windows for this windowless prison, ironically romanticizing the world that these characters may or may not have had a heavy hand in destroying. Oppenheimer and co-writer Rasmus Heisterberg don’t spell it out for us, leaving little drops that our doom-scrolling mentalities can use to fill out the rest. All we know is that the world has gone to shit, the family left everyone behind, and they refuse to talk about it.

That all changes once Girl (Moses Ingram) enters the picture. She’s the sole survivor of her family, sharing the horror stories of the surface that the family refuses to reckon with. Oppenheimer’s documentaries about the Indonesian genocide held up a mirror to their subjects, forcing them to listen to their evasive explanations. This isn’t much different, with the family lying to them, keeping them from doing anything more fulfilling than just surviving.

This could have so easily been an “eat the rich” satire in the same vein as Triangle of Sadness. There are several opportunities where Oppenheimer could have taken a cheap shot at these characters, putting them through the wringer while having us point and laugh at them. This is an absurdist concept with humorous moments, but it’s also so deftly sincere that you can’t simply excuse it. These are rich characters, both emotionally and financially, with their inner delusions offering a complex lesson on how we handle the horrors that are right in front us.

Our irony-pilled culture may not have the skills necessary to appreciate something so genuine as this, especially with a cast of such despicable characters (at least on paper). The cast all deliver stellar performances, especially MacKay, who remains emotionally stunted as he’s had never had any references for how to grow up. There’s beauty and horror in how he comes to realize him and the family’s place in all this, a microcosm of how the glitziness of the musical numbers and the seriousness of the messaging creates a long-lasting experience that will not be forgotten.