By Steve Crum

The film title The End references the apocalyptic end of the world. Joshua Oppenheimer (director/producer/screenwriter) has taken that grim premise to unfamiliar territory, fashioning it into 149 minutes of a family musical-drama-tragedy. 

It is not easy to watch.

Co-screenscribes Oppenheimer and Rasmus Heisterberg set their tale two decades following an environmental disaster that has wiped out most of the world. A wealthy family live in a relatively luxurious bunker (more like a mini-house) located within the confines of a cavelike salt mine. Among the group are Mother (Tilda Swinton), Father (Michael Shannon) and Son (George MacKay). Living in nearby rooms are the family’s butler (Tim McInnerny), doctor (Lennie James), and friends Mary (Danielle Ryan) and Bronagh Gallager (no character name). 

The group tries to maintain a semblance of normal daily life, including physical exercises (they have a swimming pool), doctor checks (he also dispenses drugs), shared mealtimes, reading books, writing journals, and art collecting. (We assume they had access to a museum?) Oddly, they conduct safety drills. 

Individually, the soft spoken characters have quirks and nuances they still try to either hide or downplay after 20 years together. The real focus in this regard is on the son’s lack of sophistication about love and sex. His parents’ relationship is devoid of any display of affection, even in private. The boy’s lack of role modeling is challenged following the discovery of a wounded girl (Moses Ingram) in the outer cave. Their burgeoning relationship becomes the crux of the plot and hope for the future.

Note that at any given time, a character will burst into song and dance. Rename “burst” as speaking in rhyme—with full orchestral accompaniment. It is not even at Rex Harrison level of sing-talk. There are 13 such “songs” with titles like “A Wonderful Gift,” “We Kept Our Distance” and “The Mirror.” The latter tune is embellished by impressive camera work reminiscent of Orson Welles. 

Overall, the sadly courageous group seems to suffer from PTSD via boredom and fear. Such is understandable. Laughs are a rarity in The End. I kept thinking about Debbie Downer from SNL. 

If Tilda Swinton speaking a sorrowful lyric like “each day is like the last” entertains you, The End might be your tea cup.

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GRADE on an A-F Scale: C-