Finales. They are a necessary evil. On one hand, every beginning demands an eventual end. On the other hand, the entire idea of the finale and all the gravitas it holds ultimately leads to dissatisfaction.
For the most part, I'm talking about the end of a television series. Every time we see the big ol' words "Series Finale" we expect something epic, something that will fulfill every expectation that we have about the show, something that will allow us to peacefully part with the characters we have allowed into our lives week after week. At the same time, we want the closure to feel natural and to keep in flow with the rest of the series. This (most often) inevitably leads to a conflict. And, like "Alien vs. Predator" (2004), no matter who wins, we lose.
I'll start my case off with quite possibly the summer's biggest finale (which, oddly enough, is not a TV show): "Harry Potter." Most likely, this will end in one of the most prevalent finale problems: a very visible author's hand. In this situation, every question is answered, every plot is resolved, and it's all a bit too clean for the cynical mind. The work becomes so obsessed in its finality that every second of it screams, "This is the GRAND conclusion! Look how I'm wrapping this up! And this up!" And, for a few brief moments, we cannot help but see the writer at the keyboard instead of the characters on the page or screen.
Even my much beloved "Arrested Development" (a reoccurring reference in my column) faced this problem in the last few episodes. Faced with a shortened run, it seemed that the writers tried to resolve every plotline in a few episodes. The end result was fun and dizzying, but at the same time felt jarring and unnatural.
The sad fact is that the opposite works just as poorly. "Freaks and Geeks" unsatisfyingly ended ??ber-realistically (which was a trademark of the show). The characters exited stage right like they would any other episode. Nothing was resolved ... because for all of them, life was going to go on, whether we saw it or not.
And then there's "Evangelion," an anime show that had about just as many questions to answer as "Deathly Hallows." Except, unlike "Harry Potter" (probably) will, Evangelion decided to leave every storyline hanging and instead spent the final two episodes psychoanalyzing the protagonist. While both of these did not fall into the "convenient resolution" pothole, they too failed to leave the audience content after all was said and done.
On top of these, there is the question of what one does when the idea of a series finale does not fit the show. Let's all think back to "Seinfeld." Once they announced that the ninth season would be its last, everyone and their mother began speculating on how Jerry and the gang would take the final bow. Would Jerry and Elaine marry? Would they all die? The list went on and on. Unfortunately, none of these theories could possibly coexist with the feel of the show: a show about nothing. Seinfeld was brilliant because it would take the microscope to and exaggerate the minutest aspects of our lives. A finale that was different from any normal episode just didn't work in concept. At the same time, honor had to be shown to send off one of the biggest shows of the '90s. For what it was, it worked as well as it could.
And so, my dear readers, I end this column with a little brain-teaser, a little puzzle that I dare you to find the answer to, because, of all the finales, I think this may be the most problematic: "The Simpsons." I ask you, by now, is it even possible to end "The Simpsons" right?
I pose this question in part because it is the quintessence of the problem of the series finale. "The Simpsons" is one of the longest-running shows ever. People who watched it as kids now write it.
It is pretty much responsible in some part for every adult-aimed cartoon sitcom that has followed it. Yet, contradictions in terms of a conclusion spring up everywhere. The main characters may be staples of our culture, but they have not aged, nor undergone any huge arcs over the past 18 years.
The secondary and tertiary characters probably have had more screen time than the protagonists of other shows and fans would cry bloody murder if one or another were left out of the last episode ... except to cram them all in would be forced and would inevitably end with the show making fun of its artificiality. At its core, "The Simpsons" is (for lack of a better word) episodic and a grand finale would not work with the tone of the show (I'm even fearful for the movie). But sooner or later, that day will come.
Similarly, the time has come for this column. I started off with some grand idea about finales (well actually, I started off with Facebook back in September) and ended it ranting about "The Simpsons." Oh well. C'est la vie.
So long and thanks for all the fish, pop-culture-ites!
