What Constitutes A Good Ending?

 by Nicholas Lemieux

How exactly does one write a particularly good opening to an article about endings? I suppose I could just rattle off a list of clichéd proverbs, something along the lines of “all good things must come to an end”? Maybe a philosophical quote or two from Kung Fu Panda? No, I think I’ll just cut right to the chase. Might make the actual ending pack a lot more punch...

Although beginnings are similarly important in setting the immediate tone and hooking one’s interest, it’s usually the ending that sticks in the audience’s mind the most. Everything in the story leads up to the ending and once it’s finished everything points back to it. But the stress arises when the writer starts panicking about whether this climax perfectly pays off everything that’s been set up, that constant fear of sticking the landing and ensuring that the audience’s commitment to keeping up with the story is not wasted. So what exactly does constitute a good ending?

I know I’ve gone about it multiple times but Game of Thrones remains the gold standard of how NOT to finish your story as evidenced by its final season: character development gets thrown out the window, the most interesting storylines are given little-to-no payoff and there seems to be an overreliance on deus ex machina with storylines such as the White Walker invasion largely not living up to the immense hype the show had fostered around them. The writers attempted to justify these story choices under the notion of subverting the audience’s expectations. And yet subverting expectations doesn’t exactly translate into writing an ending that actually makes sense. The fact that the show was critically acclaimed across its run yet has ceased to be the subject of much pop culture discussion today underlines the importance of constructing a good ending.

The hit drama Lost was a similar instance: although critically acclaimed over its run, the overly vague nature of its finale in fully explaining the true nature of the mystical island left a bad taste to many fans and largely disillusioned them from ever revisiting the series again. J.J. Abrams is a talented sci-fi director but I fundamentally disagree with his story structure of the Mystery Box, focusing more on the ominous mystery being developed instead of the actual story itself. Whilst it may make for some great drama in the heat of the moment, it often leaves the narrative jumbled and results in an overly convoluted ending that leaves audiences with more questions than answers.

It’s also often important when making a story to have a broad outline of the note you want to leave the story on, an endpoint you’re constantly looking up to as you work out a logical plan as to how the story ends up at that exact compelling point. This doesn’t mean you should construct an overly strict plan, ideas can easily develop over time, but it’s important to at least have a vague outline over the appropriate place where you want the story to end rather than just make it all up as you go along. The Star Wars sequel trilogy, despite its huge scope, had little to no premature planning in how its overall story would develop. Throughout its run, the trilogy contains many great moments, some of which are the best in the entire saga, but the unsatisfying payoff to most of the overarching mysteries in its final installement, such as Rey’s parents or Finn’s potential force-sensitivity, caused most of the audience to write it off as a failed experiment, demonstrating again why a good strongly thought-out ending is so important

Then of course you get some stories that end prematurely through cancellation and are unable to actually deliver on the captivating story being set up. It’s a tremendous shame since these even those stories may contain enthralling writing and characters, audiences to come will likely never even give it a chance knowing the lack of any pay-off. This particularly goes out to the likes of Firefly, Hannibal, Freaks and Geeks and lately almost every single Netflix show (I will never forget you Daredevil...)

The fundamentals of a good ending is one that mostly wraps up all loose ends. When you’re looking at individual movies, Edgar Wright’s Cornetto Trilogy is a great example of this; each film establishes a series of throwaway lines and offhand comments which culminate in an extremely satisfying third act packed with callbacks and payoffs. Nearly every line in the climax of Hot Fuzz is reconceptualised dialogue from earlier in the script and it makes the film a treat to watch over and over again, catching new hidden details you may have missed the first time around.

Most of Michael Schur’s sitcoms such as Parks and Recreation and The Good Place are likewise masterclasses in how to write a good finale. It’s a simple but effective story beat that we want to see these loveable characters we’ve become so attached to earn their happy endings. Even the US Office, despite taking a sharp nosedive in its last couple seasons, was able to mostly hold itself together to deliver a brilliant finale that sends out its characters on a high note simply by not indulging in any cheap, lazy tropes. The endings of all these shows are so satisfying and full of complex emotion that it ensures that the audience will be thinking about it for years to come.

It can also be a great choice to leave some stories on an open-ended note open to interpretation. In this way it can function as a new beginning for further stories set in that same world. Just think about how many stories end with the main character retiring and entrusting their far younger protégé with carrying on their legacy. When leaving your ending open, you can get people talking and leaving it up to their own imagination as to how the story will unfold in the future. Avengers: Endgame for example is the culmination of an epic 22-film saga and although it functions as a satisfying finale for the original Avengers line-up, it also serves as the foundation for future stories under more recent characters. Endings are sad by their very own nature but as much as we fear them they’re necessary in evoking the right emotions from the audience and ensuring they’re completely satisfied by all the developments that have taken place. And to quote a certain humanoid android, a thing isn’t beautiful because it lasts forever

Of course the entire reason I’m writing about all this is because, barring the upcoming magazine, this is my final article for Portsmouth Point. It’s been a fun ride writing for the blog these past four years prattling on about movies and TV, raving about cancelled shows starring Hitler and ranting about Game of Thrones.  My sincerest thanks to anyone over the years who has somehow had the time and temperament to read through my articles and I hope some people have found some entertainment in reading them.

Good endings usually call back to the very opening where they started from, but truth be told I’m having a hard time manifesting a decent link between the nature of endings and whether profit should be the purpose of business (please don’t search the latter up by the way, 13-year-old me was a weird fellow). So as I and so many others leave for the pastures new, I guess I’ll just quote one more old cliché say that when something ends, don’t be sad that it’s over, be happy that it happened at all.

Until then, Nick is out, peace!