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Creating an original musical in the year 2024 is an achievement in its own right, even if it’s only part of the reason why Joshua Oppenheimer’s new narrative feature “The End” is so audacious. Audiences seem to flock to new musicals like “Wonka” and “Mean Girls” because they offer only slight alteration on a previously existing work of intellectual property that they are already familiar with, and even this year’s divisive “Emilia Pérez” has ostensibly sold itself on being a “musical for people that hate musicals.”
If there’s anything that “The End” does that is most worthy of admiration, it’s that Oppenheimer does not insert a hint of derisiveness or irony within his razzle-dazzle, Golden Age style musical. If it weren’t for the very specific correlations made to recent events in world history, “The End” could have feasibly been released in the era of “Singin’ in the Rain” or “An American in Paris.”
Whether it would have stood the test of time like those classics, however, is a different conversation. “The End” has a great concept of examining how the most mannered, precise living environment is generally one that is built on lies, and more often than not, cannot save its inhabitants from their own self-destructive tendencies. It’s gorgeously produced, with incredible production design that feels rooted in nostalgia, yet entirely exclusive to Oppenheimer’s vision. The music itself is great and bolstered by a cast that pours the heart and soul into the material. The issue that “The End” faces is that it doesn’t evoke any deeper introspection in the way that Oppeheimer’s jaw-dropping documentaries, such as “The Act of Killing” and “The Look of Silence,” were able to.
There are certainly some who will appreciate the utmost sincerity that Oppenheimer accomplishes; choosing to tell a straightforward enough parallel to modern times, not masked by any elaborate metaphor, is an interesting creative choice. Oppenheimer has created an environment in which the bursts into song feel necessary, as they each come at a point when characters need to express something that has been burning beneath the surface of their subconscious. Yet, “The End” constantly faces the question of whether the characters that it chooses to focus on were worth highlighting in the first place; in a world where “Succession” and “Parasite” exist, is there a reason for another mannered genre story about the evils of classism? Oppenheimer’s greatest ability has always been to let his subjects speak for themselves, yet “The End” struggles to justify why its set of protagonists are worthy of that level of introspection.
“The End” is set in an ambiguous future (briefly noted to be two decades following an apocalyptic event) in which a family lives within an elaborate underground bunker, which certainly resembles the cozy environment of a classic musical set. The unnamed father (Michael Shannon) was evidently a business tycoon of sorts, but he’s ignored any responsibility he may have played in the world’s collapse by hunkering down on personal projects.
His similarly unnamed wife (Tilda Swinton) shows a similar willful ignorance to what her responsibility in the crisis may have been, as she chooses to spend her fleeting days doting over the various works of art that she managed to preserve in the bunker. The only member of the family with some sort of curiosity about what came before is the son (George McKay), whose genuine sense of empathy is exemplified when an enigmatic girl (Moses Ingram) shows up near their home, begging for shelter.
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Kindness is the inciting incident, as the son’s initial curiosity about their family’s new guest turns into a full-on attraction as she brings her new ideas to their closed-off space. The scenes between McKay and Ingram are undeniably where the film excels, as there’s an excitable sense of enthusiasm that both characters generate. Considering that both have been deprived of a normal adolescence of significant interactions with other people, any significant development within their relationship leads to significant soul-searching on their behalf. McKay is perfectly suited for the material because he’s an actor who has always exemplified earnestness. “The End” risks being too ornate in its “matter of fact” terminology and simplistic worldbuilding, but McKay does offer a sense of honesty that makes the weirder aspects of the film easier to stomach.
The core issue “The End” faces is that it is instantly accepted that Ingram’s character will bring a dose of reality to the bunker, allowing each of the characters present to reflect on what they left behind. Musicals aren’t generally built on plot twists, but the clear path that “The End” lays out for itself makes individual moments feel more trivial than anything else. Arguments that are initiated seem to present solutions almost immediately; conflicts foreshadow their conclusion before there is ever time to feel their impact. Many of the supporting characters, such as a butler (Tim McInnerny) and a doctor (Lennie James), are left feeling underdeveloped in a musical that is the same exact length as “Gladiator II.”
Oppenheimer’s commitment to capturing truthful expressions of raw emotion, a hallmark of his nonfiction work, extends to the way in which he conceives his musical numbers. There aren’t many particularly memorable songs that will stick in a viewer’s head as the credits close. “The End” is more interested in using song and dance as a means for characters who are unable to express themselves in traditional ways to unleash the desires, anxieties, and secrets they have kept dormant. It’s another example of a compelling idea that fails in execution. While it makes sense that rich, self-obsessed narcissists would be taken aback by the idea of freely expressing ideas, it does make for a grueling task when “The End” fails to register anything more profound.
There are charms to be found in “The End,” as Oppenheimer does have an oblique, straightforward approach to exposition that adds some humor. Some of the dance numbers, particularly one involving Shannon towards the beginning of the third act, are absolutely delightful. Unfortunately, “The End” is stuck between being too finely crafted to disregard entirely, yet not developed enough to consider as anything greater.
