FAME (1980)



To me, nothing says “ending” like an all-singing, all-dancing grand finale...and while there are dozens of great movie musicals that climax with memorable showstoppers -- from Hairspray’s “You Can’t Stop The Beat” and Hair’s “Let The Sun Shine In” to the painterly tableau of the Founding Fathers signing the Declaration of Independence at the end of 1776 -- I’ve always had a special place in my heart for “I Sing The Body Electric,” which features most of the major characters from the original 1980 version of Fame (as opposed to all the moist, crappy knock-offs that followed).  The number gives me chills every time I hear or see it performed, capturing as it does that terrifying, exhilarating moment of maximum potential when young graduates teeter on the verge of their leap of faith into adulthood. (Plus, it’s nice to see Coco with her shirt back on, none the worse for wear after the icky photo shoot of a few scenes earlier.) (AO)

PENNIES FROM HEAVEN (1981)



Dennis Potter's stylized Depression musical stars Steve Martin as Arthur, a sheet music salesman who thinks he has to believe in the happy songs he peddles to survive the throbbing nightmare is his real life. His ever-escalating flight from reality ultimately leads him to the gallows. The movie ends with his last fantasy, in which he escapes to dance in a production number with the heroine (Bernadette Peters), the only logic behind it being the conviction that no one could suffer so much in life unless it was a set-up for the happy ending to come. It's "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge" as staged by Hermes Pan. (PN)

MEMENTO (2000)



Christopher Nolan’s calling-card head-scratcher begins with its ending and then works backwards to its start, which one assumes is the traumatic event that bestowed Guy Pearce’s tattooed vigilante with short-term memory loss and propelled him down his vengeful path. What we get instead is something more confounding, a mordant and melancholy conclusion that compels us to consider the relationship between memory and identity and, just as pressingly, forces us to once again reconsider everything about the story we thought to be true. (NS)

THE DEVIL'S REJECTS (2005)



Rob Zombie’s neo-exploitation redneck horror show overflows with disturbing grindhouse violence, highlighted by a motel room kidnapping-torture sequence that’s just plain mean. Yet at the mid-way point of The Devil’s Rejects, Zombie turns the tables on his cop vs. psychos scenario, positing William Forsythe’s lawman as the true sadistic lunatic and the Firefly clan as empathetic antiheroes, a transparent bait-and-switch provocation that culminates in a slow-motion blaze-of-glory finale (set to Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Free Bird,” no less) that brazenly thumbs its nose at propriety. (NS)

THE UNFORESEEN (2007)



The most unforeseen conclusion to Laura Dunn's documentary about land development and water rights in and around Austin, TX (which is where I happen to live) came when I wound up sympathizing with the heavy. Even though this guy has defied environmentalists and the civic will, he too has ended up on the sharp and pointy side of his political beliefs, and it feels less like just desserts than even more tragedy. (HC)

THE ORDER OF MYTHS (2008)



I can't tell you the great thing about the ending of The Order Of Myths, because there's always that chance that you haven't seen it, and it would be shameful to spoil the reveal at the end. Let's just say that most of the film proceeds without a narrative voice, allowing the subjects to tell their own story without comment. And yet filmmaker Margaret Brown is always a couple of steps closer to the story she's telling than she lets on at any point up until the end. Her reveal transforms your understanding of the previous 75-odd minutes, a trick that is clever enough in fiction films but downright revelatory in a documentary. (HC)

Click Here For Part One, Two, Three, Four, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven & Twelve

Contributors: Andrew Osborne, Phil Nugent, Nick Schager, Hayden Childs