Twist Ending Moviefest
(07/18/00)
"Twist Ending Movies Involving Kevin Spacey." That was one (half-serious) theme my friend Eustacio and I kicked around for our most recent day of video-watching. We ended up watching a bunch of random movies instead, but it got me thinking about how cool it is when a movie beats you up and takes you by surprise with a really well-thought-out twist ending. "The Sixth Sense" is the one we've all been hearing about lately, but there are plenty of equally mind-blowing films out there guaranteed to rock your world and leave you wondering, "Now why didn't I see that coming?"
It's kind of weird, but Kevin Spacey does seem to be involved with more of them than you'd think. Let's see: "American Beauty," "L.A. Confidential," and one of the more talked-about twist ending movies of the '90s, "The Usual Suspects." Where the twist endings are just gravy in the previously mentioned two films, the whole point of "The Usual Suspects" is the end--and getting blown away by it. This movie scored Spacey his well-deserved first Oscar for his portrayal of Verbal Kint, the handicapped criminal who is the only survivor of a massive boat explosion. He tells the cops a wild story about a drug deal gone wrong and a mysterious crime lord named Kayser Soze. (Side note: "The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist," said by Verbal, is one of the best lines of the decade if you ask me.) Who the fubbick is Kayser Soze? The answer to that is the twist, and the whole point of the movie.
Because of that, the point of "The Usual Suspects" doesn't become clear until the last ten minutes. You spend the rest of the movie kind of wondering, "What's the story here?", and that can be annoying if you're not willing to meet this movie halfway. The main characters of the movie--Verbal and four other convicts--are also very hard to tell apart if you ask me. It starts slowly and it's more than a little confusing, but the end is quite clever and I've heard that the payoff is worth it. (I say "heard" because I knew it was coming--my ex-boyfriend ruined the end of this movie for me! And in case you were wondering, no, that's not why he's my ex-boyfriend. I don't take movies quite that seriously.) The Verdict: Give it a try if you don't mind a certain amount of going through the ringer. 3.5 out of 5.
Kevin Spacey also turns in a much smaller, but equally important and impressive, performance in the brutal, gut-wrenching "Seven." Director David Fincher (this was his first film; he would later make "The Game" and "Fight Club") begins as a standard tale of cops (Morgan Freeman and Brad Pitt, both in fine form) on the trail of a serial killer who murders one person for each of the seven deadly sins. The murders are gory and creepy enough on their own, but it isn't until we meet the killer and investigate the recesses of his (and the cops') minds that "Seven" becomes truly disturbing. The first three killings are all about blood and guts; the remainder are more subtle and only that much more horrifying. The ending in particular is wonderfully understated; it only takes a drop of blood and a few gunshots (in addition to some bone-chilling dialogue) to create what is possibly the most devastating, disconcerting wrap-up I have ever seen.
The true terror in "Seven" comes not from graphic violence (although there's plenty of that--be forewarned, this is not for the squeamish) but in its positively unflinching exploration of the dark side of the human soul. The "serial killer" didn't really kill anyone until the very end; he used the threat of death to force everyday people to do horrible things to themselves and one another. Do any of us really have morals, "Seven" asks, that we can't forget when we're staring down the barrel of a loaded gun if it means we can save our own skins? Is anyone willing to die for their ideals, or will self-preservation always win out over integrity? "Seven," like the rest of David Fincher's work, forces us to look at the darkness inside ourselves. What we see there (and on the screen) may not be pretty, but it's something we have to confront. The Verdict: A must see if you can take the gore and dark themes--and even if you can't. 4.5 out of 5.
Speaking of actors who can't stay away from twist endings, add Brad Pitt under Kevin Spacey. First "Seven," then "Fight Club"--and somewhere in the middle, a truly bizarre little movie called "Twelve Monkeys." Directed by former Monty Python member Terry Gilliam (who also directed one of my favorite movies, "The Fisher King"), it's the story of a convict (Bruce Willis, turning in a fine, frenetic performance) sent back in time to stop a terrorist group from unleashing an apocalyptic plague on the world. He arrives too early, ends up in an insane asylum where he meets the psychotic Jeffrey Goines (Brad Pitt, gimping out with wild abandon--to good effect), escapes with a scientist/love interest, and tries to find the culprits before it's too late.
"Twelve Monkeys" is a very, very strange movie. I mean that in the best possible way--it's full of cool images, unexpected plot points, and good writing, and it definitely keeps your brain working on all four cylinders. (Oh, and my mom thought it was depressing. I thought it was realistic. Maybe we're both right?) But if you're looking for something a little more complex than your average action flick or romantic comedy, this is it. You'll never be at a loss for conversation topics afterwards. And as for the twist ending, I guess it really isn't a twist at all; there are obvious flashback clues from the beginning, and I figured it out about twenty minutes beforehand. But that's as it should be--dread is the point to this conclusion. Call me crazy, but the whole thing reminds me of an Oingo Boingo lyric: "If I could change the future, I would change the past instead." "Twelve Monkeys" shows us that sometimes it's all too difficult to do either--and sometimes the future and the past are one and the same. The Verdict: Wow, that's weird. I like it. Great choice of songs for the end credits, too. 4 out of 5.
Copyright (c) 2000 by Beth Kinderman. This is my original work, so please respect it.
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