Saturday 20 July 2013

The End Of The (World's) End

So yesterday I had the pleasure of seeing The World's End. It was a pleasure, although I wasn't sure that would be the case going in. (Deep-seated issues? Selective Memory?) 

I want to talk more about the ending, though. 

This necessitates BIG TEXT: 


SPOILERS! 

(Yes, Really!)

So now you know. 

At the end of The World's End - and let's say it again, SPOILERS!, so, you're warned - the revelation is that an alien civilisation called The Network has infiltrated Earth at points across the globe. They're supposedly here to make life better - all our technological advances of at least the last twenty years are through them - and to elevate us to the right level to start interacting with other civilisations across the galaxy. 

This would be noble except for the fact that to infiltrate our society necessitates replacing entire populations with Blanks, which are essentially... Well, the definition is back-and-forthed throughout the film, because they're not robots, as robots are, by definition - repeatedly - slaves, but they're not human either. 

The best way I can describe them is that they're a codicil to the original human, and I wish I could tell you why the word codicil just popped into my head right there and then, because I don't think I've ever used it in conversation at any point, ever. I'd love to claim it's because I have a writers' brain, but I think someone stole the jar it was in a long time ago. 

It's not totally explained, basically. If you go along willingly and submit to the Network's process, you get a version of your body which is how you want it to be - younger, fitter, peak optimal. If you don't go willingly, you get replaced anyway, and the implication is that you become a true Blank - i.e. human form, but everything else is gone and you're just a... Wait, this may be irony... slave. So you have a choice between Amended Human agent and Blank slave. Well, I say choice... 

This is horrific enough in itself, until what happens to the original human bodies - and, as Basil says (repeatedly), you shouldn't ask about that (I'm paraphrasing) - in that the original bodies are... 

Well...

... Mulched. 

So in order to elevate us onto the galactic stage, the Network kill entire population centres (and Newton Haven is said to have something like, I think, 110,000 people?), turn the bodies into compost, and replace them with one of two sorts of agents. 

This is all fridge horror, by the way, in that it's all explained in a whip-crack section of dialogue at the end between the survivors and the voice of the Network, so there's not really much time to stop and digest what the implications are. (At one point Gary smartly asks the question of whether the other sites the Network has on Earth are going as well as Newton Haven, poking holes in their logic and apparent desire to make humanity better whether it likes it or not.) 

This isn't the problematic ending, though. It works really well in context - Gary King, defender of humanity and free will through non-sequiturs and bolshiness, convinces a powerful alien entity to leave Earth because we just won't be helped - and it's whipcrack funny, too. 

The problem - at least, the problem to me - is what happens next. 

When the Network - or, at least the Network's representative - leaves, things go badly. 

Firstly, Newton Haven is destroyed in the resulting cataclysm - there's the classic outdriving-the-explosion sequence - and the town is consumed in crackling lightning and a wave of fire. 

Again, this is a traditional ending, which isn't a bad thing; bad guys defeated, big explosion, disestablished equilibrium makes way for establishment of new equilibrium, that sort of thing. No real problems here. 

But there's an epilogue. 

Nick Frost's Andrew - and apparently it's Andrew Knightly, whereas Paddy Considine, Eddie Marsan and Martin Freeman only get characters with first names, but whatever - is sat around a campfire, telling a group of people what happened next. The takeaway from this is that he's been telling the story of the film to these people, although I didn't make the connection at the time - lazy brain - and, in principle, it's to give the audience some closure. 

This is done by explaining that when the Network left, they took every technological advance from the last twenty-plus years or so with them, plunging the world into darkness and post-apocalyptic wastelandedness. This kind of implies that humanity were content to just let everything technological run without actually questioning how it did so, or analysing what was going on - but, then again, I don't know entirely how my computer or mobile phone works, and that doesn't stop it working. 

So humanity is free, and not being turned into compost and replaced with duplicates in the name of progress, but we're back to what looks like a post-Feudal society. What's more, the Blanks in the silo in Newton Haven actually survived the cataclysm - well, most of them, anyway. Except now they're trying to integrate into human society. It's not going well. 

The main characters get arguably decent closure explanation endings, though; Andrew reunited with his family to make a go of it. Sam and Steven got together, properly - but that shacking up joke... really? As for Peter and Oliver, they're trying to make a go of it as blanks, except that nothing's really changed in doing so - Oliver's trying to be exactly what he was as a human, except with a replacement head, and Peter... Nothing's actually changed for Peter, as much as I could tell, except now he does funny tricks for his children with his removable body parts. 

And Gary King... 

... Here's where the problem is. So far, it's cosy catastrophe territory. Things have happened, a new normal has been established, and everyone's just trying to get on with it. 

Except for Gary. 

Gary is a fascinating character. I'd go as far as to say that he's Pegg's magnum opus, in that he's someone any sane and right-thinking person wants to punch after about twenty minutes, but he's still likeable over and above that. His energy, irrepressible nature, etcetera - sure, they all spring from his state of arrested development and lack of evolution as a person, but they still work on the level of animal cunning and the total charm offensive. (Which would be a good name for a band.)

Gary King is That Guy From School who hasn't actually changed at all, for whatever reason. Failure to engage with and be a part of the world, dislike of the idea of growing older - whatever, he is who he is, or, more accurately, he is who he was and wants to remain that way. It's because of this that he's able to convince The Network and their crazy mulch-and-replace program to leave the planet, and he saves the day for humanity in doing so. 

All well and good. 

Except that in the post-Network Britain, Gary's shown to have reunited with the teenage Blank versions of his friends (having killed his own teenage duplicate before the Network pulled out). This is... I don't like to say creepy, exactly, but it's a little odd; it's difficult to pull apart to write about, because Gary's still in the same psychological state he was when he left school, except that he now has his four friends back in the physical state they were in at the time and they are, in theory, the same psychologically. 

Gary's taking these Blank Friends around into the post-Feudal pubs and challenging their No Blanks policy by starting fights. 

This appears to be the sum of the ending. After all that's happened, Gary's still on a pub crawl with teenage versions of his friends, except that now he orders pints of water and starts fights. (Never mind that his Blank friends are one sharp punch away from having no face, thanks to the relative eggshell thickness of the Blank skull shown within the film). 

In theory, there's something positive to take away from this - Gary's doing what he's always wanted to, recapturing those teenage years, doing the things that made him happy, living his memories. But it's also a bit sad, in a way, because all that living in the past had got Gary before was, well, a failed suicide attempt and an unshakable desire to finish a legendary pub crawl. 

There's no progression, see? Even the Blank Adult versions of Peter and Oliver get a 'happy' ending, and so does Andrew. But Gary's become essentially a nomad in a state of arrested development. Which begs the question... 

What's the point of that ending? 

Gary doesn't change because Gary King doesn't want to change. Is it folly to have expected something along the lines of progression or character development or realisation or evolution? This is not to say that I can think of a better ending in the context of the epilogue - Gary does get everything he wants, truly, so what's better than that? 

The thing is... I'm not a great filmmaker, or writer, and I covered this yesterday, but... 

Why not just end it with the destruction of Newton Haven? 

The answer is, simply, structure

Shaun of the Dead could have ended with the army arriving, cut to black, credits, wham. Hot Fuzz could have ended without some of the final scenes in the police station (although, of course, you'd still have to have shown the final fate of Danny.) 

But Shaun finishes with an explanation of Ed's fate, and Fuzz finishes with a tying up of threads and an explanation of Danny's fate. This time, it's Andrew explaining Gary's fate, and it fits both structurally within the way the films work and, taken in the larger structure, within ending the Three Flavours Cornetto trilogy; it's an ending to all three films, not just The World's End

I understand this. And in a way, it's the cinema equivalent of how Angel ended; running towards the next fight, "I kinda wanna slay the dragon", and this is no bad thing. 

In the context of the film itself, however... It's a little odd. 

Then again, maybe it's just me. 

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