THE STORY – In a near-future world where ageing can be cured, and death is now optional, Claire, a former provocative artist approaching her 250th birthday, decides she’s had enough – she wants to die. Her decision stirs conflicts with her husband, daughter, and AI assistant, revealing the humorous complexity of their relationships. As Claire uses her impending death to reclaim her role as an artist, she is forced to face what it really means to die, to live, and the messy absurdity of it all.
THE CAST – Rebecca Hall, Noomi Rapace, Gael García Bernal, Beanie Feldstein & David Verdaguer
THE TEAM – Maria Martinez Bayona (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 102 Minutes
The existential sci-fi bookends of Maria Martínez Bayona’s debut feature, “The End of It,” showcase the film’s two most impressive elements: stylish world-building and an insanely clever performance by Rebecca Hall. Writer and director Bayona provides Hall with an eccentric, poignant, 250-year-old character who grapples with creative legacy, and Hall absolutely locks in for the challenge. She makes for an invigorating watch, even when the film itself crumbles under a half-baked concept that abandons far too much of its fascinating concept. Bayona plays with punchy ideas about mortality and aging, zooming in on the measure of an artist against the work they leave behind. While the film’s sleek visuals mask some rather shallow thematic explorations, Hall puts in the riveting work to elaborate on Bayona’s ideas, keen for a deeper dive.
On the eve of her 250th birthday party, surrounded by faux friends and a twinkling cake with her face on it, former provocative artist Claire (Hall) wants to die. She has had enough of this never-ending existence and cannot muster up one iota of interest in her surroundings. In a killer monologue, Claire describes feeling horizontal and stretched so thin that she struggles to define who she is anymore. With nearly every original bone in her body replaced, immortality chipped away at Claire’s self, leaving her in a layered personal crisis regarding her creative body of work.
Following Claire’s decision to end her life, art exhibitors suggest curating a final showcase of her work, so that she can reclaim space and reintroduce herself to audiences. The exhibitors have a skewed perspective on how Claire’s work ought to be presented, encouraging the artist to adopt a more radical approach: a “watch me die” performance that serves as her final piece. The film counts down the days to Claire’s death as her body begins to deteriorate. Bayona throws in a neat little nod to David Cronenberg’s “The Fly” with Claire peeling off some of her fingernails. Conversations around aging fears feel a little derivative in Bayona’s visual expression, inadvertently evoking Coralie Fargeat’s “The Substance,” namely during a church-set sequence that sees Hall in full-body old-age makeup. While compelling in Hall’s performance, the moment itself feels reductive and heavy-handed in its messaging. The film finds more intriguing material in the concept of death itself and how immortality erases Claire’s self to the point where she reaches a breaking point.
Hall might not have the most in-depth material to mine, but she delivers a masterfully introspective performance, finding the character’s deepest, darkest fears to reclaim her artistic identity. She has a remarkable gift for dark comedy that this film plays into with morbid glee. The film works best when Bayona and Hall lean into the abstract dark humor, as showcased throughout the masterful birthday party sequence that opens the film.
Unfortunately, the supporting performances pale in comparison, falling short of the meticulous commitment that Hall’s work radiates from start to finish. It doesn’t help that the screenplay leaves a lot to be desired in terms of crafting fully realized characterizations for those who orbit Claire’s inner circle. The film instantly loses momentum when Claire’s daughter, Sarah (Noomi Rapace), arrives without moving the story along. The characters’ relationship struggles to find a narrative place here that feels insightful and compelling enough.
Thankfully, in addition to Hall, the film has excellent visual language and showcases Bayona’s precise eye for evocative imagery. The cinematography and production design help maintain an immersive quality to the world-building. There is an impressive level of detail in bringing Claire’s home to life. Considering her several decades on this earth, it would make sense for her surroundings to be decorated with an eclectic collection of items she has accumulated over time. Claire also has a gorgeous-looking, earthy room where she keeps her real bones on display, assembled to resemble the look of one full body structure.
The high-concept ideas of “The End of It” are fascinating to explore on paper. In theory, having such creative elements readily on hand should make for a narratively compelling experience. Bayona’s film showcases glimmers of brilliance throughout, suggesting a promising first-time feature director and screenwriter working through her artistic expression. It’s a journey that perfectly serves the protagonist’s search for the art that makes her feel most honest about herself. Led by the phenomenal Rebecca Hall, who is incredibly adept at commanding attention and striking a specific tonal balance, the film remains an engaging watch despite its flaws.
