The Sense of an Ending: The Difficult leap from Book and Film

This post was intended to be something totally different (and maybe at some point I will come back to its original point) but, for now, I’ll follow my meandering thoughts. I promised myself I would never introduce the topic of books turned into films, but here I go; about to break my own rules.

I am severely underqualified to know what makes a good or bad book. I have never studied what makes a work of genius and what’s trash. Now, of course, like all things, books are subjective and I find more so than film. They offer such a personal experience. A book truly lets your imagination and emotions run the show. You are not swayed to feel a certain way, whereas a film emphasises certain moments to reaffirm how the film wants you to feel. A film tells you how to feel through images; as the saying goes, ‘a picture is worth a thousand words', which may be why it's so important to get the translation from word to image right.

Our Souls at Night [OSAN] has prompted this post. After reading the book and then subsequently watching the film, I was left scratching my head. So, this started the ball rolling on the transition from page to screen. It is certainly unusual to compare OSAN and American Psycho [AP]; their stories are not even remotely similar. However, to me, these issues with their film adaptations make them more similar than not.

OSAN is a beautifully written book and, for the most part, the book and the film have the same stories. Louis and Addie find a beautiful companionship in each other, one that supersedes sex but still has a deep intimacy that few get to experience, bringing both familiarity and newness in their golden years. Both versions of the story are wonderfully simple. The story potters along; even the film's dramatic and emotional highpoint is muted, which is fitting for the story, but it still has a great emotional impact.

OSAN takes its time. The characters take their time getting to know each other, allowing each other into their lives and, in turn, the viewer is given time to get to know them so by the film's end we are incredibly invested and connected to these characters, as they are to each other. Spoilers are coming, so don’t say that you haven’t been warned.

We have watched the joy that Louis and Addie have brought into each other's lives. Even though they have only truly gotten to know each other for a short time, they have had a lasting effect on each other's lives. Their routines have been altered and even the most mundane of tasks have become special due to the presence of each other.

When Louis and Addie are separated by an external source, their joyful days and peaceful nights filled with soft chatter are ripped away overnight. Now, in the book, this sense of loss is felt deeply; I know I left a few tears on those pages. Life will never be as it was and the new distance between the two has created a pit of loneliness that both are slowly sinking into. The book ends with the sad reality of how lonely this new life is and with the small, seemingly pointless attempts to maintain some sense of connection. Both know this is as good as it gets and it is simply not enough for either one of them.

The film unusually - and, to me, extremely unfittingly - ends on a much more hopeful note, as if it would even be possible for either character to find genuine happiness in this truly devastating situation. It and the book end so differently that it is hard to know which is more fitting. Being the pessimist I am, I prefer a more emotional ending. Perhaps the film was more hopeful to show that something is better than nothing and love knows no bounds, but this just doesn’t sit right with me. I find it hard to believe that the characters the film has set up would be in any way hopeful. The book is not expressing hope, more of a willingness to put up with what they can have while still longing for what had been. Hope lessens the emotional impact that this wonderful story had been so slowly and gracefully building up to.

This, in turn, got me thinking about AP, or rather how it struggled to navigate the difficult leap from book to film. If you google AP, I would absolutely bet that the main thing you will come across is 'American Psycho Ending Explained’, yet at the same time, as in tandem with the book, the ending is intended to be totally ambiguous, so why does it need to be explained?

Most viewers say Patrick, the protagonist, is imagining his murderous impulses and violent lifestyle. This is because there is the logic that can be applied to say everything is all in his head. The ending of the film is literally a tying up of loose ends and answering Patrick's paranoia. As Patrick confesses to his murders, his colleagues tell him that his victim is alive. There is no evidence of any other crimes that he thinks he has committed and if he has committed them, how has he managed to go unnoticed? Therefore, the viewer would assume that Patrick is, much like in the title, a psycho.

The book is intended to be ambiguous and, in fact, it is. It is intended to be elusive because, like most books and films, the ‘meaning’ is never the obvious option. It doesn’t matter if Patrick is a murderer or just crazy. The story is a commentary on American culture, consumerism and what it is to be a yuppie. Despite this, fans continue to obsess and ask the question: was it all in his head?

Why does the film not end on as cryptic a note as the book? This is most likely down to the difference in media. Film does not appear to be conducive to ambiguity. Books are entirely played out in our own heads; we create the action for ourselves. If a story is left open-ended, we create our own ending, but we also realise that the ending is not the point; its ambiguity is the point.

A film has to show us something and, in doing so, it's making a decision. This is not to say there aren’t films that create a very successful cryptic atmosphere (and I will certainly be returning to this topic in the future), but this film didn’t and it wanted to. AP provides too many explanations in one go for it to be left open-ended. Had it trickled in moments of doubt throughout the film, maybe it would have created its intended atmosphere. Instead, it shows one side and then disproves its existence. Both ‘realities’ should have been shown in tandem. Then they could be both true and imaginary.

I am not a literary critic - in fact, the idea of this is laughable -, but I like to think I know a good film. Endings make or break films. They can be the deciding factor in whether or not we remember this film for the rest of our lives or if it simply takes its place on a shelf of films we know we’ve seen, but can't exactly remember. A good ending stays with you forever. Its emotional impact remains the same no matter how many times you see it. These books give you an unforgettable ending, but their film adaptations leave you wanting.