Jeremy’s Tophunder №5: The Shawshank Redemption

9 min readJun 15, 2020

Not only is Shawshank one of the highest-ranked movies on my list, it’s also at or close to the top of the list of movies I’ve seen the most times in my life. I suppose those lists probably go hand-in-hand to some extent.

Somehow, though, every time I watch it, I’m caught off guard by how awesome the last 45 minutes are. It’s a movie I love, and I know exactly, why, but every time I fire it up, I spend the first hour and a half quietly wondering to myself, “wait, do I still like this as much as I think I do?” only to be reminded in the third act exactly how much it resonates.

Now, don’t get me wrong — the first 90 minutes are so are still great. If the movie cut to black right at the point where it “starts” to get good, it would still be a really well-made movie, and would probably still make my list (or come close). But those last 45 minutes take the movie to a different level. And it’s not like that stretch is some epic, high-energy climax. Sure, it’s a little exciting for a few moments, but really, the brilliance is in the small moments.

For those of you who have never seen it, first of all, shame on you. Secondly, Andy (Tim Robbins) escapes from prison. That’s right, I’m spoiling the ending for you. You deserve this, because it’s a great movie that came out 25 years ago. If you haven’t seen it yet, I’m calling it your own fault. You had plenty of time.

When we realize that Andy has escaped, things certainly escalate quickly. He absconds with the warden’s money, gets the head guard arrested, and the warden commits suicide rather than face the music. But from there, it actually gets rather melancholy, as Red (Morgan Freeman) reminisces on the time that he spent with Andy and what the friendship meant to him. I really enjoy Freeman’s voiceover narration throughout most of the movie, but this is easily my favorite, and maybe just my favorite scene in the entire movie.

Andy is certainly the protagonist of the story, but with Red serving as the narrator, I can’t help but relate to him more over the course of the movie. With Andy gone, I can feel the hurt that Red feels. You get the sense that Andy was the first person that Red ever really saw as a true equal. Prior to Andy showing up, Red was the de facto leader of his crew, and while he’s obviously fond of all of those guys, their relationship seems more like a big brother to younger siblings, or the coach of their team. I always felt like there was some vague, unspoken disconnect between Red and the other guys. Andy and Red became friends in a way that I don’t think Red had ever made a friend before, especially not in prison. You can see in his face and hear in his narration how bummed out he is that he doesn’t get to see Andy anymore, but you also see and hear the guilt that he feels for thinking that.

This runs directly into another one of the movie’s best scenes, when Red has his final parole board meeting.

If you compare Red’s energy and attitude in this scene to how he was in the other two parole board scenes earlier in the movie, two things come to mind immediately. The first is probably what the movie wants us to think, which is that Red is finally speaking the truth that he was too afraid to tell to the parole board in his earlier meetings with them. Earlier, he gave a rehearsed, canned speech that the parole board has probably heard from hundreds of different inmates, and it gets him nowhere. Here, Red is basically saying, you can let him out of prison, or you can keep him there, but neither one of those options will really make a difference. For one, he’s been in prison long enough to know that life on the outside won’t feel all that much like freedom. He’s been, as he likes to say, institutionalized. Life in prison is all he knows. Also, neither of the choices really indicate whether or not he’s been “rehabilitated,” a word he throws back at the bureaucrats with a decent amount of contempt. He feels he’s been successfully rehabilitated for years now, and told as much to the parole board, but it doesn’t really seem like they care.

I see one more reason for Red’s sudden shift in attitude, though. He doesn’t give a shit, because regardless of what they decide, he doesn’t have his friend Andy anymore. That, I think, is the real driving force for Red. Yes, he’s been discouraged by the system, but he’s maybe even more discouraged by the absence of his friend. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that these scenes run back-to-back.

The ultimate message of the movie, though, is hope. As Andy says, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies. Andy’s hope is embedded in the knowledge that he’s not guilty of the crimes that the system has imprisoned him for, while Red’s hope is embedded in his friendship with Andy. That’s why he’s so despondent when Andy leaves, but is suddenly so energized when he finds his opportunity to follow Andy to Mexico.

I was first introduced to The Shawshank Redemption by sportswriter Bill Simmons, who was probably my favorite writer during my high school and college years. I find him to be rather obnoxious and repetitive now, but at the time, I was drawn especially to his writing about the Red Sox, and their World Series run in 2004. He drew many parallels between the Red Sox and The Shawshank Redemption, quoting the movie often in his game recaps and reflections, and at the start of the 2005 season, when he covered the game where the Red Sox received their World Series rings, the column was simply titled “Zihuatanejo,” after the town in Mexico that Andy and Red finally reunite in.

Even though I’ve done just about a complete 180 on Simmons, I still really enjoy re-reading those pieces from 2004 and 2005, and I still really enjoy experiencing the movie through that lens. It’s not just a movie about prison and friendship, it’s a movie about hope and faith, and latching onto whatever amount of hope and faith you can muster in order to get through difficult times. Those messages are folded into the story for the first half, but are truly brought to the forefront in the second half.

I think that’s part of the reason that I’m so taken with the last hour or so of the movie. The first half feels like a standard prison story — Andy is found guilty, and for a while it’s actually unclear as to whether or not he actually is. He suffers sexual abuse at the hands of The Sisters, but holds on to some semblance of his life before prison by becoming an ad hoc financial advisor for the guards. He’s doing good work by expanding the prison library, and bad work by helping the warden launder money, but his work with the warden is securing his protection and keeping his library afloat. For the first hour or so, you’re not totally sure which direction the movie is going in. Supposedly there’s a redemption somewhere along the line, but you’re not sure exactly where, and for who.

It isn’t until we all realize that Andy truly is innocent that everything clicks into place. It suddenly becomes about Andy’s path back to freedom, by any means necessary. The pace shifts, as Andy desperately tries to use this information to his advantage, only for the warden to shut him down. It looks like Andy has lost hope. What we don’t realize is that what looks like despair is actually resolve.

And then…

I’ll mention it again, but Morgan Freeman’s voiceover work in the movie is fantastic. It’s a combination of great writing from Stephen King (who wrote the original novella) and Frank Darabont (who wrote the screenplay), and Freeman’s iconic voice, but it’s so much more than just the timbre of his voice that makes him such a great narrator. I wish I had a more specific understanding of exactly what makes a person a talented voice actor (for the most part, I can tell when someone is good or bad, but for whatever reason I can’t quite explain why), but obviously Morgan Freeman is among the best ever.

Red is one of my favorite movie characters of all time, thanks to both his obviously brilliant narration and Freeman’s measured and simple choices as an actor. He’s one of the few characters in the movie, if not the only character, that never raises his voice or really changes demeanor, which I think was a really interesting take for a prison movie. Freeman really played Red like he was above it all, thanks to some combination of zen and inherent coolness. Sure, he’s modest and reserved around the warden, and around (some of) the guards, and in front of the parole board the first two times, but he’s still somehow always the coolest guy in the room.

Shawshank has been among my favorite movies for years now. I love how quotable it is, but for reasons different than how I normally would feel. When I love quoting a movie, it’s usually because the quotes are funny (whether that be intentionally or not), or just plain cool. Shawshank is a movie with iconic quotes that could actually just serve as a mantra to live by. Hope is good thing. Get busy living, or get busy dying. Salvation lies within. That kid’s long gone, this old man is all that’s left. So many of these lines have stuck with me in ways that almost supplant the movie at this point. They genuinely make me feel good to hear them, even outside the context of the movie. And when I watch the movie, and certain lines come up, it’s just another reminder of why I love the movie so much.

Andy Dufresne, who crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side. Andy Dufresne, headed for the Pacific.

I hope to see my friend, and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope.

(For a refresher on the project, I introduced it in a Facebook Post on Day 1)

Here’s our progress on the list so far:

2. A Few Good Men

3. The Social Network

4. Dazed and Confused

5. The Shawshank Redemption

6. The Fugitive

7. The Dark Knight

8. The Departed

9. Saving Private Ryan