Review: "I'm Thinking of Ending Things" is a Special Kind of Frustrating

Scene from I'm Thinking of Ending Things

If you were to describe Charlie Kaufman's filmography in one word, it's headache. Not cerebral or surreal, just headache. Over a career spanning 25 years, he has taken a look inside the human condition and asked the profound questions about how our brain works. With Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, he explored romance in one of the most creative dramas of the 21st century. More recently, he explored loneliness in Anomalisa by turning a hotel full of people voiced by only three actors. He's an oddball who takes risks, but at the end of the day, you'll understand why these ideas make your head ache at night, causing you to toss and turn at night. He may not always say it directly, but those willing to listen will find something satisfying in his frustration, finding profundity in the mundane conversations as we transition to the next phase of life.

This is what makes I'm Thinking of Ending Things a particularly unique ride even within his filmography. While every story has these twists and turns that reveal themselves to us, this Netflix collaboration is one that requires an insubordinate amount of patience, requiring audiences to get through a 20-minute car ride full of seemingly inconsequential conversations. Why does any of this matter? Kaufman has gotten to a point in his writing career where he sprinkles nuance so gradually that you might miss it entirely. It may be why this is a difficult film to understand, let alone enjoy. Is it actually a journey to visit family, or is this an attempt at Kaufman's grander existential crisis magnum opus? The answer lies somewhere in the middle, maybe blurred out in a cloud of snow in the rearview mirror. While the film eventually gets there, the road there requires an effort that not everyone will be willing to face. 

The film's title is spoken immediately, like a poem being commented on as Young Woman (Jessie Buckley) agrees to visit her boyfriend Jake's (Jesse Plemons) family. It's a world covered in snow, hiding mysteries. What starts as something illustrious slowly turns into a moving grave. Think of James Joyce's "The Dead" if their conversations centered around the barren wasteland of Middle America, reflecting on abandoned houses and reading poetry. These intellectuals pass the time with several conversations that all seem indirect, creating an insufferable sense of internment. Every topic may not be related, but death seems to linger through it all, reflecting a mortality that leads many to believe that this is a story of suicide. The Young Woman will be "ending things" after one or two things goes wrong.

Kaufman is too much of a writer to give convenience. Much like the car ride, everything feels prolonged as if smiling through gritted teeth, waiting to leave and be out of this hellish situation. Even after a long car ride, the audience doesn't immediately meet Jake's family. It starts with a journey to a barn, where sheep have died and maggots have eaten away at the floor. Jake accepts this as life, that things come and go. Even as Jake's parents (David Thewlis and Toni Collette) enter the picture, they feel warped. Kaufman introduces these plot devices that never pay off, like a dog whose dry-shaking becomes a monotonous blur. 

What does it all mean? For Kaufman, monotony is the appeal to this story. He's dropping the audience into the ambiance, trying to find comedy in the discomfort. If there's any issue, it's that Kaufman may be Kaufman's biggest fan, and he loves watching these characters talk. He's not necessarily the most visually impressive director (save for the splendid final third), meaning that it drags on, sometimes making one wonder what would happen if he had a collaborator. What if Michel Gondry or Spike Jonze directed this? Maybe it would be tighter, able to emphasize what's great about this narrative. As it stands, this is a dialogue-driven story that has traces of inspired ideas, and it's the beginning of problems for this story.

The whole thing feels interminable at 134 minutes. The endless conversations in cars while driving through snow oversells the point. Kaufman's obsession here with cringe humor makes sense, especially in the Father and Mother's case compared to their collegiate in-law. However, it's all a bit much after a point. While Thewlis and Colette give these wacky performances, Kaufman tries to find the humanity underneath, never forgetting how vulnerable and hopelss they may seem. The Young Woman spends the rest of the film wondering if that is their future, stuck liking mediocre Robert Zemeckis movies and losing some contact with reality. If this film is to be labeled a horror, it's one of the self. How do you keep from growing old? You end things.

While Kaufman's entire screenplay feels mired in small moments that feel discordant, the addition of the third is both his best and most confusing. Those already unsure with why any of this matters will likely lose it when a third act features a visit to Jake's school, featuring a magnificent Oklahoma!-esque dance. It's where he makes the most sense, when logic falls apart and all that's left is this swirl of ambiguity that forces you to grapple with things that are no longer about the story. They become about the viewer. It's in this mishmash of objects that the plot finally makes sense, understanding why Jake has been such a passive character for most of the story. It becomes tragic even as it grows more beautiful, forcing questions about everything that just happened.

The difficult question is whether this droning tone was at all necessary, if the needless dialogue exchanges could've been more tightly wound to hit with greater emphasis. I'm Thinking of Ending Things has a few flaws as a narrative because of this, feeling more like several ideas splayed together in a chaotic effort to make sense of the thesis. Individually, these moments have something intriguing to say, but together they feel like an exercise in overkill. The snow becomes a purgatory that is never escaped, and that is Kaufman's only strength in this narrative. Life cannot be escaped, and it's likely that audiences will have a paranoia-inducing desire to make sense of it as they exist in scenes ripped from a void. You'd want to end it too after watching this.

Depending on how abstract you like your story, I'm Thinking of Ending Things is satisfying or downright torture. Those who liked Kaufman's other work will have plenty to enjoy, especially when things collapse on itself, leaving understanding of what this self-pitying adventure has been all about. Everyone else may want to jump ship immediately. This is a confusing deal for Netflix because, unlike something like Roma or The Irishman, waiting for something more encouraging feels like the greatest piece of irony. It may make you laugh, but it's all a bit smug. This is an exercise in philosophical ideas meant to tear your hair out. It works most of the time, even when it avoids being entertaining. 

This is a miserable story, but one that explains why your head continues to ache as you grow older, trying to make sense of this world. It's beautiful and messy, but you'll also want to yell at the characters every five minutes. It's often immobile and confusing, but that's fine. Everything's fine. If there's an issue, it's how unconventional and cryptic this film is until the last half hour. By then, you'll either let the mystery be or moved onto scrubbing dishes in the other room. Your call.