LINCOLN IS SHOT IN THE END or I HATE TO SAY IT, BUT THERE WILL BE MORE BLOOD
by Craig Johnson
Here on “Welcome to the Basement” we make a habit of talking about the endings of movies. The reasons are complicated but it mostly comes down to the nature of the show being “Two guys talking about a movie they just saw.” We’re not calling ourselves critics, just a couple of guys who love movies, and some movies [Roman Holiday, Bedazzled, etc] are difficult to talk about without talking about their endings. We try not to give away the endings of movies which are not the centerpiece of an episode, but I would like to talk about an ending to a movie that’s just recently came out on video. It is Steven Spielberg’s “Lincoln.” If you haven’t seen the movie and don’t want to hear about the ending, stop reading now.
For those of you who are still reading, here it is: Lincoln dies. The end.
This ending is horrible and I hate it. It’s not that I am asking the question every good American asks at some point in their life, “Why did Lincoln have to die?” but rather “Why did Lincoln have to die in ‘Lincoln?’” I love the movie, but hate the ending. It is only natural that I hate it because I’ve hated, or at least been put off, by the ending of nearly every Spielberg movie for the last 20 years. Starting with ‘Schindler’s List,’ my experience with nearly every one of his movies has been thus:
For the first 95% of the movie, I watch with a combination of a child’s amazement at the magic and splendor of film and an adult’s appreciation of the craft of cinematography and the art of storytelling. I sink into the warm bath of Spielberg’s artistry, where I know that the camera is always going to be where it should be, and I am seeing and hearing all that I should be at every specific moment. I love the sensation of being in the hands of a skilled artistic manipulator who can play the audience like a conductor plays an orchestra.
And then, after loving so much movie for so long, for the last 5% of the running time, my thoughts are screaming dictation to my non-existent secretary, “Ms Fairchild, take a letter, and expect plenty of exclamation points. To: Steven Spielberg, Hollywood C-A. No, scratch that. Hacky-wood, C-A. Dear Mr Spielberg: How dare you…all caps… HOW DARE YOU! You know better! I know you know better!”
The movies are so amazing, yet for some reason he thinks they need some coda that is trite (Saving Private Ryan’s cemetery scene) or unbelievable (War of the Worlds) or a cop out (Minority Report) or unbearable (Munich. Oh, God, Munich). It should be noted that I count the entire 4th Indiana Jones movie as the final 5% of the saga. Sometimes his endings will be more questionably long than bad, forcing the movie to go on so long my mind starts wandering and I snap back with a “Oh, hello, yes. The movie is still on?” (‘Schindler’s List,’ ‘Catch Me If You Can,’ and though I haven’t seen it, I hear ‘A.I.’ just won’t quit) Oddly enough, his one movie from the last 20 years to nail its landing is “The Adventures of Tintin,” which ends right when the mystery is solved, followed immediately by a perfect sequel hook, then BLACKOUT. The problem with “Tintin” is that there was no demand for a sequel.
For “Lincoln,” it was a combination of the two: it was a horrible ending for the mere fact that it went on too long. It looks for a while that he’s going to nail it. There was a very good final scene between Mary and Abe, who finally become a normal eccentric couple with dreams of retirement and visiting the Holy Land. “Oh that’s nice. Ms Fairchild! You may be able to knock off early tonight.” This is followed by another scene in the cabinet room as the men have a moment’s respite after the war is over and there’s some happiness to be had, and the president remembers his wife is waiting for him. It is lovely to see Lincoln in one final moment of absolute humanity, where he’s just a man who doesn’t want to upset his wife. “Ms Fairchild! Bring in the bottle– and two glasses! We’re going to celebrate!” We follow him out of the room, he talks to his manservant for a moment, turns away from us and walks down the stairs to his sad destiny. Watching that moment I swore that if it faded into credits right there I would finally tell Ms Fairchild my true feelings for her. That I see her as so much more than a mere imaginary secretary. I’d be so happy I wouldn’t mind in the least if she rebuffed me.
Ending at the stairs would have been like all of the solid endings of Spielberg’s early career: the quiet post-victory satisfaction at the ending of “Jaws,” or the sad farewell at the ending of “E.T.,” or the awe-inspiring ending of “Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind,” or even the perfect ending of “Raiders of the Lost Ark” which might be the greatest ending of a movie ever.
But, no. Lincoln has to die. He always has to die. But, why? The climax of “Lincoln” (the movie) is the passage of the 13th Amendment; the denouement is the close of the war. “But,” (everyone says), “Lincoln dies, not way in the future but five days later. Right after the war, and the end of the movie. It’s not like he died in 1882 in Springfield of a stroke.” Yes, I know that. Everyone knows that. My question is why do we have to see it? Why can’t we see a man triumphant and finally at peace, if only for one moment? We know where he’s going when he goes down those stairs. Can’t we fill in the rest?
In his screenplay, Tony Kushner made a conscious decision not to tell the full story of Abraham Lincoln (Kentucky cabin to Ford’s Theater) or the full story of Lincoln At War (Fort Sumter to Appomattox). It is all about the Amendment. The problem to be solved in the movie is “Can the Amendment be passed before war’s end, and is it justifiable to extend the war to ensure passage?” The problem is solved: it’s passed without having to extend the war. Then we get a couple of scenes to wrap things up. Everyone (General Grant, Mrs Lincoln and the cabinet) gets a curtain call, but there is just a hint of the ominous. Daniel Day-Lincoln gets the final sad bow. Or it could have been his final bow, if Spielberg hadn’t added those last five minutes.
Compare to the 1970 film “Patton.” That is specifically a story of the general’s years fighting World War II in North Africa, Sicily and finally Germany; the story of a warrior who has finally got the war he was craving, the greatest game of all time. It ends with him eying his Russian allies with a gruff lust to fight them next, but he’s left with nothing to do in a peaceful Berlin except trot his horse around in circles and wait. It could have started with him in WWI, or at West Point, or being slapped by his military father, but it didn’t. It could have ended a few months later with the jeep accident that took his life, but why? That’s not what that movie was about.
The murder of Lincoln (by a blessedly unnamed assassin. Well done, Kushner) is just too tempting. From a narrative stand point it is one of history’s most gloriously novelistic moments. At the end of the bloodiest war in a country’s history, the final fatality is the man whose election sparked it and who after years of struggle managed to bring it to a close. A man who asked his nation to sacrifice so much gives his nation the ultimate sacrifice. It’s too perfect for a writer to easily pass up. And yet, does it work in this movie? No. Why? Because, it’s not emotionally moving. It’s just a fact that is put on the screen. We are shown people weeping at his deathbed and suddenly Mr Spielberg is telling us how to feel. That’s what cheaper directors do. And when I was told to bring out the Kleenex, I sat dry-eyed, waiting for the credits to roll so I might figure out who played this or that congressman. I think if they cut the movie on the stairs on the way to Ford’s Theater, people would have been bawling. As it is, he just died because that’s Lincoln’s job, to die for his nation’s sins.
This inevitable night at the theater might be necessary in other Lincoln movies, but it wasn’t in this one. The ones that show his whole life need it, as do the ones that tells the war’s story, because his death is where those stories end. And to paint his death as a sacrifice might be something of an exaggeration because he had no knowledge of his sacrifice. He was shot in the back of the head while distracted by a popular farce. He had no idea what hit him or what sacrifice he was forced to make. Gandhi looked his assassin in the eye and forgave him before taking the bullet. Jesus was dragged through town and forced to think about it for a few hours (and he forgives his assailants as well). Both of those men are defined by their deaths as much as they are by their lives.
There are many parallels between Christ and Lincoln. Both are beatific, both are great orators who died too soon, both are argued over, both were world-changing, both had notable beards. The difference is that there is no way you can tell JC’s story without at least a bit on the cross. That is his key moment. I said earlier that Lincoln’s job is to die. That’s a flip exaggeration. But if you read the Bible as fact or as literature, there’s no question about why Jesus was there. He was on a mission to die and be reborn and all that. We need his death for the story to work or else he’s just a philosopher who does neat tricks (I have an entirely different spiel about the failure of most fictional tellings of JC’s life), but we do not need Lincoln’s death to tell his story. We all know his fate. It can merely be implied. And it would have been if the movie ended on the stairs.
When our hero heads to the theater we had already passed the narrative and emotional climax of the film, which was the passage of the 13th Amendment. Spielberg made us a very satisfying meal. The dinner was wonderful. The dessert plates were cleared. But as we were rising and reaching for our jackets our host stepped out of the kitchen with another plate of meat. And we are forced to sit down and eat it. We had already had enough story, and we had purged enough emotions (in a positive way: Slavery is ended!), and then in the span of just a few minutes Spielberg gives us a whole other story about an assassination that could be (and has been) its own movie. It goes from being “The Most Wondrous Historie of Abraham Lincoln, 16th President” to being “The Lamentable Tragedy of Abraham Lincoln, American Martyr.” And we were supposed to get all weepy over this. Yes, it’s near impossible to not love Lincoln as portrayed by Daniel Day-Lewis. No one wants to see him die. But, despite the fact that his death is one of the most important moments in our nation’s history, it was the least important part of the movie. Spielberg’s version of his death does nothing emotionally. Not to me at least. It’s just an obvious coda.
I was left with a “Yep. Now, who played that Kentucky congressman? I know I‘ve seen his face somewhere.”
With “Lincoln,” Spielberg gives us another four-star movie with a one-star ending. I could go on at length about the many merits of this movie, but for now, let us leave it at the ending. It kept going a few beats after it was supposed to end. One may discuss the merits of the Ford’s Theater fake out, showing Tad Lincoln learning the news while sitting in the balcony of a completely different play (which was something new) and how the boy really hits the note he should, but it’s a note from a different movie about a different Lincoln.
Yes. YES. YES!!!
Craig you fucking nailed it right on the head. I liked ‘Lincoln’ a lot, but this was my biggest problem with it. I thought the ending of him walking down the stairs would have been absolutely brilliant and perfect for the film. The way they did it was very heavy handed and totally unnecessary for the plot. In other discussions I’ve had with people about the film, nobody seemed to have a problem with it. I’m glad that Craig Fucking Johnson agrees with me. I can only pray that Matt does too.
Oh Craig you should have just paused the film then and there and told Miss Fairchild she was more than just an imaginary secretary. You knew it was a Spielberg film. You knew the moment was not going to last . She has been waiting for 20 ears of dictation to hear you recount to her what she has always felt in her make believe heart of gears and sprockets to be true .to hear you speak with such passion to her and her alone. But alas you did not and the moment is past the proverbial ship has sailed.You let the film play on. Now she has gone back to her one room apartment in the imaginarium, a broken figment . As I type this she is moistening the seal on her letter of resignation and looking forward to a new day working in the mind of the infamous dandy Sir Gropes- a-lot’s office and why sir WHY. I will tell you why. You do not know after 20 years of Spielburg when to stop watching a film and tell a make believe girl you love her thats why, you cad!
I couldn’t write something this well thought out if worked on it for a year.
It didn’t bother me but I guess you’re right. But then again, ending on the steps or earlier would’ve been very cliche. Spielberg might have had to think of something else. Sopranos ending? He wakes up as Guido Contini in Nine and it’s all been a dream? 😛
The recent mini-series ‘Titanic: Blood and Steel’ ended with some of the characters we’d gotten to know and love over 12 episodes boarding the ship, so that was interesting.
Your comments about the Jesus story make a lot of sense but, although he didn’t see his killer, it doesn’t mean Abe wasn’t expecting it every moment. That would be tense.
Although it was touching, I always felt annoyed at the ending of Jesus Chris Superstar. For me, although it was a little anti-climactic, the story never ended at the cross. I wanted to see the ending I’d always heard. Maybe that’s why I didn’t mind the death at the end of Lincoln.
Maybe they could have shown Abe’s resurrection in the footage of the first Lincoln L-series Touring Car rolling off the assembly line in 1917. 😀
Excellent critique. I completely agree. No one wants to be told how to feel. The unspoken (or in this case, the unseen) can be so potent. When some work, whether it is film, writing, music, etc., leaves out details from its narrative, it allows the audience a degree of independence. We can choose how to fill the spaces, within some bounds. This creates an inherent connection between a work and its audience, making viewing more satisfying and engaging.
I completely agree with you on the horrific ending of Lincoln. For 95% of it, I loved Spielberg’s humanism in the movie, and I was going to put it as my favorite film of 2012.
Then Lincoln gets freaking shot.
This ending is one of a group of endings that I call ‘horrific endings’. These are forced endings so awful that it ruins the movie forever. Noted examples include: Cat People (should have it left as either we don’t know what the heck Irena is or have the main character die but not before she gives birth to Amy), Misery (too long and how the heck did Paul get out of Annie’s house), Argo (why did we need that schmaltzy ending), Grease (moral of the story is that you have to conform to what others think about you), and Signs (why the heck would aliens invade a planet consisted mostly of water!?!). An ending has to say farewell to an audience to let them know what happened to the characters and what they learned. If it is a) stupid, b) unrealistic, c) unhealthily forced, or d) ruins the experience of the story, the ending ruins the movie!
Anyways, you have shown yourself off to be a great writer and I’ll read more of your work when it comes around.
P.S. The ending to War Horse was very touching and reminiscent of a classic film. The rest of Spielberg’s films from 1998 to 2012 just have horrible endings.
P.S.S. My top ten favorite endings are Sunset Blvd., The Wizard Of Oz, Moonrise Kingdom, It’s A Wonderful Life, E.T. The Extra-Terristal, The Third Man, Seven Samurai, WALL-E, The Phantom Tollbooth, and Modern Times.
I had no intention of seeing this movie until reading this article, which I suppose is the film critic’s ultimate victory. Might just sit down and finally watch it now. Thanks for sharing, Craig.
Never mind. Now the background changed. Damn it! LOL!
OK, how was Minority Report’s ending a copout?
Debbie, I agree that Daniel Day-Lewis is a brilliant actor, one of the very best worknig today, for sure. I’m really hoping I’m not getting my hopes up to high on this one…that can be bad.
– December 02, 2011 12:27 PMThaks for the information. Daniel Day Lewis’s role is pefcert role as Abraham Lincoln, 16th President of the United States in the Steven Spielberg film ‘Lincoln “because it has a face that is almost the same.
I cannot wait to see this. Just read Killing Lincoln coudln’t put it down! We don’t have any Lincoln’s today. He was a strong president and took a strong, unpopular stand. I hope they portray him truthfully.
Oh wow. I must’ve blacked out the last twenty minutes of the film (or blocked it out) because I honestly don’t remember the assassination! Wow.
I completely agree. It doesn’t add anything, and everyone knows he gets assassinated. The absence of action is loud, and I always point to that one scene in the Kids Are Alright for a great example. She’s incredibly upset, and what happens? Slow motion and everyone’s sound is completely muffled. Because that’s the best way to illustrate her experience.