Cut or Fade: Dilemma of the Celluloid Exit

I'm reaching a little with this next entry, so you'll have to bare with me. As I type, I have no real idea as to how this is going to play out, but I'll see you guys at the end. I was thinking, recently, about how I view films and the way they end. Not really in story, but the physical transition to black and then credits. These are things that I tend to stew about. The final transition is very important. It holds just as much emotional significance as the conclusion of the story.

We go to a movie to be entertained, first and foremost. We all know that watching films is a form of escapism. Now, to what extent you escape differs from person to person. I love to be entertained, but my form of escapism is picking apart a film as I watch it. It varies with each film, but whether it be camera movement, the writing, the acting, the directing or the general story, I have a need to critique what's occurring in front of me. Given that, I can't wait to see how a film transitions to black. I will admit that I do tend to pay more attention to the ones that I believe have more artistic merit than others, but nevertheless, I watch for it. Then, it becomes a matter of which one you prefer. I know which one I prefer, but that doesn't mean I'm not open to the other. As long as a transition supports the weight of its final message, then I'm all good. Dazzle me with YOUR transition, I say.

Okay, let's establish, very quickly, which transition I prefer. I'm a sucker for the cut to black. The films that I tend to watch these days are made by directors who love cutting to black. I don't think it would be a mystery for those who know me if I were to say that I dig Martin Scorsese's films. Over the last two years, if I had to choose a favorite director, Mr. Scorsese would be the guy. This man is in his mid-sixties and he still makes films with more energy and chutzpah than most directors half his age. A lot of that energy comes via his long-time editor/collaborator, the great Thelma Schoonmaker. She's brilliant. They've had a long, fruitful partnership since 1980's Raging Bull, because they seem to know each other's little quirks. It shows in the films. Scorsese cuts to black often and he does it in such a way that feels like the last sucker punch in a schoolyard fight. You never know when he's going to do it, but when he does, it completely catches you off guard. The aforementioned Raging Bull does it. So does Goodfellas, The Aviator, The Departed, and Mean Streets. These are films that exit in a way the rest of the film calls for. It's energetic and I feel like I've just seen something completely new. I can say the same thing when I view a film by Tarantino, both P.T. and Wes Anderson, Joel and Ethan Coen, and Robert Altman.

This doesn't mean that I don't like the fade to black. The fade is the friend that'll take you out for a beer and talk to you about sports or girls or girls who play sports. It doesn't feel complicated or disturbing. The fade to black, in all honesty, fits with a movie that's rife with emotion. I'm a sucker for the emotional stuff. Truly I am. The best example that I can think of is Mr. Holland's Opus. I love this movie. I don't care who knows it. It's a movie about teachers and music. Needless to say, both mean a lot to me. The last ten minutes make me cry like no other. It's not just a celebration of the career of this highly respected music teacher, but it's a celebration of the profession and the art form. The fade to black is subtle and just right. I feel most movies that end with a fade to black have glided along in a very elegant and wistful manner and that cutting would compromise its integrity. Cameron Crowe does that in his films. For crying out loud, Casablanca ended in a fade! Are you really going to be the one to tell me that Casablanca was wrong in any way shape or form?! It's heresy, my friend. Of course, it's a generational thing. Most classics of the golden age of film didn't cut to black. The turnaround came in the early sixties with the French New Wave filmmakers like Jean Luc Godard, Francois Truffaut, and Eric Rohmer. They were using jump cuts and fancy camera tricks that no one else was using. They changed the way a film could be made. That's including the transition to black.

Allow me to describe one final emotional pull for me in the transition. The music. The way directors use certain songs to exit out of their movie can make me stand up and applaud. Fade or cut. A great example of the fade that I've seen recently was Sarah Paulson's Away From Her. The two main characters are in an embrace that we've been waiting for for most of the film and it's played to k.d lang's version of Neil Young's "Helpless". The camera swirls around the two and then it actually fades to white over this beautiful song. That transition alone to that song solidified my opinion of the film. Wes Anderson LOVES to use a great song over a last scene done in slow motion. He did it wonderfully in Rushmore to the Faces "Ooh La La" and in The Royal Tenenbaums to Van Morrison's "Everyone". Quentin Tarantino uses The Lively Ones' "Surf Rider" brilliantly at the end of Pulp Fiction. Scorsese has used Sid Vicious' version of Sinatra's "My Way", Roy Buchanon's "Sweet Dreams" and the "Cavallerina Rusticana", to exit his films. Here's the thing that each of these films, fade or cut, have in common: they use the music as a rhythmic device to transition. For example, the first chorus will end and right as the second verse comes in, there will be a cut to black and we'll see the director's name come up on the screen. I can't stress how important the usage of music is to a film's ending.

I guess if a film serves its purpose, the transition will be invisible and not really matter, but then you wouldn't have schmucks like me who come along and obliterate that particular purpose. Personally, I'm okay with it. I accepted a long time ago that I'm quite the film snob. I have lots to learn, don't get me wrong, but I'm a snob, nevertheless. Those who exclaim that one transition is better than the other need to reevaluate the way they look at films. You can enjoy one more than the other, sure, but transitions to black serve best the energy of the movie. If you don't like the movie, most likely you won't like the transition...or you'll love it, because it's transitioning to you not having to view that movie anymore. My point being is that it's more fun to judge a film on HOW a director used a certain transition to black; not why.