The fight between Mr. Douglas and Mr. Hackman was so devastating because minutes before the fight begins, they were laughing and reminiscing about years gone by. There was so much hate in Mr. Douglas' eyes and so much guilt and sadness in Mr. Hackman's that it was just impossible for me to watch the ending. Can someone please tell me how this ends?
shareThat was an extremely devastating scene, wasn't it? Here's what you missed after the big blowout by Mr. Hackman:
His father tells him that from this point on, he has no son. Gene storms out, slams the door, and walks down the steps. The camera freezes on Gene, and he provides an update on his life: He moved to California and never spoke to his father again. His father entered a nursing home, became increasingly senile with only the TV for company, and eventually died alone – without even an orange. Gene muses about how relationships don't end when one party dies, and we're left with the impression that he'll carry around the hurt until he dies. The final image is a snapshot of the two together, with Gene looking uncomfortable with his father – just as he did during the film.
Hope that helps. I'm in tears writing it.
I would like to congratulate you for putting a tear in my eye. I did see the picture of the two of them in the beginning. Gene Hackman did look uncomfortable and yet you can clearly see from the picture that he was the only one who sort of stuck with Melvyn Douglas. Estelle Parson's character was not even in the picture.
Thank you for your response.
You're very welcome. As Practicepiano pointed out, I was incorrect on a few specifics: The son moved to California, and the two did visit each other over the years.
There's a great line in the closing monologue: "Death ends a life, but it does not end a relationship, which struggles on in the survivor's mind toward some resolution which it may never find."
>> He moved to California and never spoke to his father again.<<
Actually, it doesn't say that. It says that there were visits in both directions. Gene, in the long run, still faced up to the responsibility to care for his father. He just stopped pursuing his love and approval.
That's it. Gene Hackman stopped pursuing Melvyn Douglas' love and approval. Now it makes a lot of sense. This film really got under my skin. And I love the film all the more for it.
shareI've just played it again, and you are correct. I guess I heard what I wanted to hear. He moved to California, but the two visited each other over the years. Thanks for setting me straight. It seems like I'm not the only one with the false impression about the ending.
shareIt's easy to miss.
The quickness of the sentimental, they-came-so-close moment going sour, then Gene's angrily leaving the house, then describing the turns as he drives away, the voice-over so hypnotically, regretfully calm as he speaks, leaves an unusual impression.
Between viewings, I would always forget exactly how it ended, and whether or not they saw one another again. I think the effect is interesting.
But Gene is a good guy, and wouldn't leave an ill parent high and dry, even though he has outgrown trying to have a truly loving relationship with him.
The way that it is presented, the fact that he didn't cut off contact seems almost incidental, emotionally.
Indeed. I was left with conflicting signals there, especially with the camera freezing on Gene as he storms out. I was thinking that was the last image his father had of him. Even though Gene wouldn't leave his father high and dry, I think his father might have been too proud to contact his son in California, outside of the obligatory Christmas card he mentioned earlier.
There are also so many profound and heartbreaking observations Gene makes in that monologue that I tended to overlook the specifics at the beginning of it. Really, for all intents and purposes, their relationship ended that night when he left. I'm not trying to rationalize here – he definitely says they visited each other – but it just seems that once they had that conversation, neither of them could turn back again, and really they never did.
>>I was left with conflicting signals there, especially with the camera freezing on Gene as he storms out. I was thinking that was the last image his father had of him. Even though Gene wouldn't leave his father high and dry, I think his father might have been too proud to contact his son in California, outside of the obligatory Christmas card he mentioned earlier.
There are also so many profound and heartbreaking observations Gene makes in that monologue that I tended to overlook the specifics at the beginning of it. Really, for all intents and purposes, their relationship ended that night when he left. I'm not trying to rationalize here – he definitely says they visited each other – but it just seems that once they had that conversation, neither of them could turn back again, and really they never did.<<
Exactly! The way it is presented really leaves that impression. It really nails that sense of an ending that never ends, in keeping with the opening sentence of that monologue and the beginning of the film.
Question: So Mr. Hackman never really sang for his father (Douglas), am I right? Do you think the fight would have never occured if Mr. Hackman lied to Mr. Douglas? What if Hackman said "Yes" to Douglas' question? You know, in a way, the Douglas character sort of reminds me of Mary Tyler Moore's in Ordinary People. Don't know why.
shareI think the story behind the title is another insight into the difference between a "just suck it up and do what needs to be done" type like Tom, and someone who is more aware emotionally, like Gene.
Singing can be a very personal, vulnerable thing to do (especially singing a sentimental love song). It was also something Gene shared with his mother, a feeling, warm person, with whom he had a good relationship.
I'm sure that, when Tom came downstairs and requested a song, he thought no more of it than he would if he'd asked his young son to take out the trash -- just a thing to do. But, I suspect that, to Gene, singing on request was more than that.
And, no doubt, even at that age he probably knew that obliging the request could easily lead to criticism, tales of how Tom sang so well when he was a kid, completely ignoring the song to tell some other "when I was in my darkest hour" story, etc.
So, to get out of it politely, he "always seemed to be just finishing" when his father came downstairs.
Not sure what question you are asking about (let me know, if you see this post), but I don't think any lying would have helped the situation.
Tom is very much like Beth in Ordinary People - good insight.
I think he has more of an "excuse," as it were, to be like that, since his tragedy happened in his childhood, and he did respond with a lot more ability to do things that were necessary to survive, rather than necessary to keep up a front, as Beth did.
And, again, it's one of those mixed-feelings things. I can't hate those characters (although Beth is more distasteful to me than Tom). A person who responds like that is better off than someone who collapses in a heap and never recovers, drinks or does drugs to the point of mindlessnesss, kills themselves, etc. They are trying to still be functional, useful, and strong.
But their way of surviving is rife with denial, and leads to having a sort of half-personality. It can also be very, very hard on the people around them, who can let themselves feel their feelings, recover and go on, in the somewhat more messy way that a healthy life usually requires.
First and foremost, Thank You for your elegant and quite perceptive response.
I thought at some point during their last conversation Douglas asked Hackman if he ever sang for him. Did he? I just caught this one on TCM a few weeks ago. I'm sure I was wrong. Nevertheless, the scene was so hard for me to watch. It was so awkward to the point of unnerving. That's how I felt. I thought that if I were Hackman, I probably would've embraced and held Douglas for a long time. I saw, in Douglas' eyes, a sort of begging...some sort of defeat in a way. Douglas is old and he knows that he does not have long to live. I can't help but think that in that very last scene, Douglas is so sorry for having fought with Hackman and not agreed with him all those years. This is probably what I was trying to say in my previous post. I'm quite sure I'm not making a lot of sense. Anyways, thank you again for responding so eloquently.
As always, very eloquently stated, Practicepiano.
Because you know this film so well, I have a couple observations that maybe you could comment on regarding the fact that Gene never sang for Tom:
First, Gene mentioned that he used to like to sing the song for Tom, but it is Tom who corrects him that he "always seemed to be finishing" when the father walked in the room. Is this just Gene glossing over the issue that his father's presence made him uncomfortable, or did he genuinely not remember? It seems like the sort of thing that Gene would remember, so I found his comment odd – just as I found his father's correction odd as well, because it doesn't seem like something he would care about. So while Gene never sang for his father, his father always noticed.
Second, could there be a "macho" dynamic at work here, so that singing was not considered manly to earn Tom's respect? We learn that Gene was in the service for a time, presumably because that's what Tom expected of him, but he dropped out, presumably because that's not the kind of life Gene seeks.
The comparison to Beth in "Ordinary People" is a good one to a point in that they are both emotionally distant parents. Though having read Judith Guest's novel in addition to seeing the film, I must add that Beth is lot more dangerous than Tom because she is emotionally abusive – to her family as well as herself.
Sorry it took me so long to see this -- kicking myself, since finding people who want to discuss this film is very rewarding to me!
The dialog is:
Tom. I remember your mother would sit at the piano, hour after hour, and I’d be up here at my desk and I'd hear you singing.
Gene. You always asked me to sing "When I Grow Too Old to Dream."
Tom. Did I? . . . I don't remember your ever singing that. . . . You always seemed to be just finishing when I came into the room. . . . (Looks at GENE) Did you used to sing that for me?
Gene (not a joke anymore). No. . . . But you always asked me to sing it for you.
What Gene remembers fondly is that his father asked him to sing it, not that he sang it.
So, I think the whole scene is pretty consistent about the memory that Tom had to listen from upstairs, and that Gene stopped, and found some excuse not to sing "When I Grow . . . " when Tom appeared.
I think you're right about macho issues. I think that "what is a whole, healthy, man?" is an underlying theme of the film.
So it's possible that Gene sensed that, as some point, Tom might have made some sissy singer jokes.
That might not have been as likely as one would think, though. Tom was from one of the last generations that grew up with little to no electronic media. Until very recently in human history, just about everybody sang, very frequently.
If people were bored, wanted to dance at a party or keep their timing together doing physical labor, they had to make the music themselves.
Tough guys might have sung filthy songs, but they sang! So singing had no stigma of being effeminate -- or, for that matter, difficult or limited to only a few people.
Sorry for the history lesson -- music teacher, can't help myself! :)
Also, the fact that Tom's request was a very sentimental song makes me think that he either didn't perceive singing as effeminate, or, if he made such a joke, it would either be in "tough guys mock each other all the time" mode, or because he was utterly clueless about his own insensitivity.
Wow, has it really been a year? No worries, PracticePiano, your comments always appreciated here. Thanks very much for keeping this discussion alive.
I think you are right that it's not so easy to characterize Gene's reluctance to sing for Tom as a "macho pride" thing. As you said, "manly men" of a certain age were hardly reluctant to raise their voices in song -- particulary when they had a few brews in their bellies. "Roll out the barrel ..."
I suspect Gene's feelings on the matter go much deeper. It's apparent that he had viewed Tom with distrust for years. Maybe Gene never felt comfortable enough around Tom to sing for him, thinking Tom would be critical for whatever reason. Maybe Gene didn't think Tom deserved the gift of his voice. Maybe Gene thought singing was a special gift he would share with his mother and withhold from Tom; he certainly seemed closer to his mother. Maybe singing "When I Grow Too Old to Dream" in front of his father called to Gene's mind some difficult issues. Or maybe a combination of all of these.
It's certainly a very evocative title, meant to inspire questions but not generate easy answers. It's very personal and poetic, like another movie I saw years ago that I've been trying to track down: "Lies My Father Told Me." It also calls to mind that other Gil Cates gem, which I highly recommend if you haven't seen: "Summer Wishes, Winter Dreams." I much prefer those literary titles to the "adjective noun" genre ("Basic Instinct," etc.) or titles with a "Too" instead of a "2" (and vice versa).
Anyway, I'm rambling here, but the fact that we're discussing the title of a 41-year-old film another year after we began is a sign that the author struck a chord with at least some viewers (<----- obvious pun intended).
Thanks for the ending. I fell asleep in the last 10-15 min. of the film and could not believe when I woke up, the credits were rolling. So I appreciate your filling in the gaps.
shareYou are very welcome! I hope you enjoyed your rest, but you missed a powerful ending. ;-)
shareI'm glad you're on this thread again; it's an amazing movie, and I'm so pleased to see that people are touched by it and eager to discuss it.
I saw it (my 2nd time) last night, and I want to add a note or two (no pun intended).
The title of the song in question -- When I Grow Too Old to Dream -- is telling, I think. At some level, Tom -- who is a mass of conflicting impulses, all existing in his un-self-aware universe -- has yearned for an emotional connection to *someone* (but of course he has virtually never been able to acknowledge that longing -- not even to himself).
And I think that, given the vulnerability and sense of regret that can accompany -- increase with -- old age, he feels that longing more intensely. So for Tom, it's not exactly "When I grow too old to dream" but "Now that I am old, maybe I'll be able to acknowledge my dream [of connecting with my family]." But of course he can't connect -- he has calcified over time -- and he can't acknowledge that yearning.
I agree that their uneasiness re: "did you sing for me / you asked me to / you always seemed to be finishing as I approached" has nothing to do with the era's dictates of what men do/don't do. Rather, singing is a stand-in for "I reveal some private part of myself to you." It's so sad that the son can't share who he really is with his father -- can't bc the father is so wedded to his stark view of what constitutes a successful life that he's tone-deaf to a nuanced view of what makes life meaningful.
Also, I don't think that Gene, after the bedroom blowup, accepts their non-relationship. He tolerates it because he's a dutiful son and he won't completely cut off his father -- but some tiny part of him still yearns for a real connection even tho he knows that it won't happen bc Tom is too wounded (by his own runaway father) ever to let down his guard/be close.
. . . . . . . Yet Tom has shown those tiny, fleeting glimpses of his humanness, and those glimpses fed (before the blowup) the tiny tiny hope in Gene that maybe -- maybe -- the two of them would have some shred of connection before Tom's death. (It is indescribably painful, as the child of an emotionally unavailable parent, to see proof that the parent is theoretically capable of connection -- and then to continue to live at arm's length bc the parent just cannot stop protecting himself and therefore can never have an emotionally intimate relationship.) Hence the voiceover, at the end, about the relationship continuing even after one person dies.
An amazing and heartbreaking and thought-provoking movie. And an AMAZING performance by Melvyn Douglas, who was handed far too many lightweight roles early in his career (such that we didn't really see his range until late in his life).
Well-said, Haven.
I enjoy a good old-fashioned film, in which it is crystal-clear who the villains and heroes are. But a film like this says so much more.
Tom did what he had to do to survive, and, it seems, had to shut off a huge part of his personality to do it. His last line, bellowed as his son goes down the stairs, isn't triumphant, it's terribly sad; “I’ve lived my whole life so that I could look any man in the eye, and tell him to go to hell.”
That may have been a way to get through the first trauma in his life, but not a healthy way to get through 80-some years of life (to say the least).
Beautifully put, Haven7728! I need to revisit this film again soon ... if I can remember where I stored it.
shareThe lyrics of the song make it all the more poignant. (I know this mainly from hearing Linda Ronstadt sing it on The Muppet Show. )
We have been gay,
Going our way,
Life has been beautiful,
We have been young.
After you've gone,
Life will go on,
Like an old song we have sung.
When I grow too old to dream,
I'll have you to remember.
When I grow too old to dream,
Your love will live in my heart.
So kiss me, my sweet,
And so let us part,
And when I grow too old to dream,
Your love will live in my heart.
I'm with both you and practicethepiano on how messed-up Tom is. His major character flaw is that he seems to believe love is his due, that he's entitled to it, that it can be commanded, rather than earned. I mean, he cuts his adult son off for wanting to start a new life elsewhere!
Then there's that Thanksgiving Gene describes. His wife was dying and all Tom seemed to care about was whether Gene would show up at their house-- "our day is nothing without you." Not "I know you're going through hell, son. If there's anything at all your mother and I can do to make it easier, all you have to do is say the word."