Screaming Subconscious: An "I'm Thinking of Ending Things" Study and Review
*WARNING: Mild spoilers ahead*
As the title alone would likely indicate to a curious moviegoer browsing Netflix on a pale Fall night, we have a clearcut shoo-in for bleakest, most gonzo film experience of 2020, and it’s Charlie Kaufman’s latest feature, I’m Thinking of Ending Things—but that isn’t to say it’s a bad thing. Based on a best selling novel by Iain Reid, Kaufman couldn’t have chosen a more appropriate story to adapt; after all, he’s no stranger to making movies about the curiosities of mortal struggle. Having written the screenplay for such indie classics as Being John Malkovich and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Kaufman has proven himself an artist with uncompromising vision, both for better and for worse. As a standalone feature director, he’s just about as divisive an auteur as they come, with a strong sense for crafting deeply cerebral yet painfully personal films that often fly so far beneath the general public’s radar that they may as well not exist in a mainstream sense.
His latest, an oddball relationship horror-drama, follows a nameless young woman (played by Jessie Buckley) who takes a road trip with Jake (Jesse Plemons), her boyfriend of six weeks, to visit his parents (Toni Collette and David Thewlis) in their secluded farmhouse. Simple enough, but it gets stranger as the night unfolds. Her innermost thoughts punctuate the film’s narrative, revealing the sum of her darkest fears; a pummeling stream-of-subconscious that leads to an onslaught of surreal and unnerving imagery. The unshakeable dread interrogates her sense of what’s real and forces her to lose grip on both identity and time, giving way to a chaos that lies dormant within.
There’s a peculiar dreaminess to I’m Thinking of Ending Things that distinguishes it from the usual lot we’re conditioned to seeing on Netflix. It’s weird, dark, funny, thought-provoking, and somehow equal parts grim and poetic; like taking acid at your grandmother’s birthday party, it’s the kind of movie that could make you reconsider your most questionable life choices. It almost feels more like a moving human experience than it does a standalone piece of pop culture. Picture this: Netflix’s biggest original movie to date features a ripped Chris Hemsworth throwing henchmen through walls—obviously, this movie hums to the beat of a wildly different tune. Even considering Bong Joon Ho’s environmentalist sci-fi adventure Okja and Dan Gilroy’s artistic nightmare in Velvet Buzzsaw, this film might just take the coveted crown of most avant-garde film to ever be produced and distributed by Netflix. Can we expect to see Netflix beginning to fund more ambitious auteur-driven projects? Let’s certainly hope so.
From a directorial standpoint, Kaufman does an amazing job of reeling you into this world by establishing its tone strong and early. The opening shot skims past oddly colored wallpapers through the empty old farmhouse while our protagonist delivers a stirring monologue. Her cadence is poetic, her whisper is soft and stripped of hope—for herself, for that of her floundering new relationship, or for the uneasy world she implies to be navigating. In this world, a dense coat of snow blankets everything in sight, creating a strong visual energy that permeates every shot and makes even the most vibrant colors appear pale and weirdly muted. This aura of wintry desolation remains consistent throughout the entire film and its prevalence is a key identifier of Kaufman’s time-tested skill. Name another filmmaker who can make respectable claymation that ponders the meaning of life.
Despite the film’s most jarring subversions, one of its more universal assets are the brilliant performances that keep its characters grounded. The main cast is spearheaded by Jessie Buckley, the anonymous subject, whose outward warmth is played in measure with an archaically cold detachment. She’s abstract, opinionated, and really sells you on the tyrannies of an overactive mind. Then there’s Jesse Plemons as Jake, whose deadpan neuroses are incredibly awkward and tremendously genuine. His obnoxious intellect is undercut by a distinct lack of expression that creates uneasy frictions with each character he interacts with. Their ongoing repartee throughout the film is both witty and stimulating, though it evokes complex emotions around the horrors of social disconnection. Together, their offbeat synergy is the unpredictable pulse of the viewer’s experience in I’m Thinking of Ending Things.
Rounding out the film’s supporting cast is Toni Collette and David Thewlis as Jake’s parents, perhaps the film’s most intriguing characters. As far as individual performances go, Collette puts on a clinic as the cloying mother who exudes overt politeness with silent desperation while Thewlis counterbalances as an aging old man on the cusp of mental decline. As parents, they’re sweet, simple and emotionally invested in the accomplishments of their son. Nevertheless, he’s oddly disturbed by their pride while they actively vie for the affections of his shiny new girlfriend. Their roles become warped as the movie unfolds and they morph into representations of the cyclical nature of time and the melancholy of what it ultimately takes from us.
The film is a monument of provocative artistry and you can feel Kaufman’s intention in every shot, every scene, every interaction. By breaking the mold and withholding our rights to straightforward storytelling, it dares audiences to carve their own interpretation from it rather than having it spoonfed. The boldness of such filmmaking is quite rare and for good reason—it can easily go sideways. One example that stands out from recent memory is distinguished Greek filmmaker Yorgos Lanthimos, writer/director of 2015’s The Lobster and 2017’s The Killing of a Sacred Deer. Like Kaufman, Lanthimos disrupts narrative by using social disconnection to create bizarre worlds that simply don’t adhere to normative expectations and portrays them with utmost deadpan sincerity.
While I wouldn’t expect this film to crack Netflix’s top-10 algorithm anytime soon, it feels undeniably special because of its innovative quality. It’s not exactly Hubie Halloween, but Charlie Kaufman’s not exactly in the business of making fan favorites. I’m Thinking of Ending Things is an unforgettable film because of its ability to broaden viewer expectations on what movies can be on a more accessible streaming platform. This surreal tumble into the heart of psychological vulnerability is easily Netflix’s most avant-garde film to date, and should hopefully encourage its audiences to widen their scope for what to expect from a streaming achievement. Considering Netflix doesn’t have a surefire means of box office analysis, it’s hard to say whether or not this film can be considered a relative “success”—however since the film’s release almost two months ago, it’s drawn widespread acclaim as 2020’s favorite mindf**k. And in the spirit of artistic integrity, sometimes that’s the only validation a film really even needs. Don’t believe me? Go check Twitter.