‘I’m Thinking of Ending Things’ Review: A Surreal, Existential Nightmare

Charlie Kaufman’s latest film leaves viewers with a lot to think about.

Kai-Ming Chow
Cinemania
5 min readSep 23, 2020

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Image: Netflix

If you’re familiar with Charlie Kaufman’s work (Synecdoche, New York, Anomalisa), his latest existential outing, I’m Thinking of Ending Things, is as ambitious as it is challenging — which, at this point, is to be expected. Based on the 2016 novel of the same name by Iain Reid, the film follows a young woman (brilliantly portrayed by Jessie Buckley) as she accompanies her boyfriend Jake (Jesse Plemmons) to visit his parents (Toni Collette and David Thewlis) on their remote farm. But as the film goes along, it dives further into the same surreal territory found in his other films to highlight the horrors that come with everyday life.

As the title suggests, the young woman, whose real name is never confirmed, is thinking of ending her relationship with Jake but is unsure of the appropriate moment to break the news to him. It’s clear to see why, though, Jake exhibits huge red flags throughout the film, such as sudden outbursts of anger, ominous secrets, a controlling behavior, and an annoying habit of mansplaining. The parents are just as troubling as their sporadic behavior and age are hard to pin down. One moment they’re awkward and excitable, and the next they’re slow and senile.

The visit is as uncomfortable an experience as you would imagine. Like in many Kaufman projects, communication — or the lack thereof — is a recurring element throughout the film. In many instances, characters are stammering as they try to get their words out in an attempt to properly express themselves to the people around them, while other moments feature awkward pauses that bring conversations to a screeching halt.

Image: Netflix

A highlight of the film is the interaction between Buckley and Plemons. Their push-and-pull dynamic is incredibly engaging and perfectly encapsulates the difficulties that come with human relationships. Buckley’s performance is also a clear standout. She evokes a palpable despondence while also conveying an earnest, raw emotion that makes her painfully relatable. While Plemons seems to be channeling an air of melancholy reminiscent of the late great Phillip Seymour Hoffman.

Presented in a 4:3 aspect ratio, the film gives little room for our eyes to wander around or lose sight of the main focus that’s presented onscreen. That being said, it’s hard not to get caught up in questioning the meaning of every single detail that stands out; everything seems intentional and meticulously placed to go in line with the overall concept of the film. But instead of providing clear answers, the film focuses more on posing questions and exploring all sorts of ideas related to the human condition.

And the way it does so is pretty inspired, to say the least. It takes advantage of the medium by finding different and inventive ways to approach its narrative. Some of these include an animated black-and-white jingle for an ice cream parlor, an extensive dream ballet sequence, a rendition of “Lonely Room” from the musical Oklahoma!, and an idealized romantic comedy directed by Robert Zemeckis. These moments stand out even more as they’re juxtaposed with the dreary and disturbing tone of the rest of the film.

Needless to say, a lot of things don’t add up, but that’s by design. Many details that are established beforehand are later contradicted with new information that makes us question what’s real and what isn’t. Even Jessey Buckley’s character is open to interpretation. She is referred throughout the film by several different names, which include Lucy, Louisa, Lucia, and Ames. Some of these names also appear on her phone as missed calls made by her “friends.” On top of that, her occupation changes as well. One moment she’s a waitress, the next she’s a painter, then a physicist, and then a poet.

Image: Netflix

The film also intercuts between the main storyline and the life of a high school janitor as he goes about his day, with his observations coming into play later as the film reaches its climax. But among all of the scenes in the film, I found myself more invested in the extended car ride sequences, where most of the dialogue-heavy interactions between the young woman and her boyfriend take place.

The topics include the monotony of everyday life, the coldness of loneliness, the inevitable passage of time, and the dishonesty found in empty platitudes. They also have lengthy discussions about art — such as literature, music, and film — which leads to the young woman reciting film critic Pauline Kael’s review for John Cassavette’s A Woman Under the Influence.

The way these scenes are presented is very telling. On many occasions, the compositions serve to illustrate the clear divide between the characters while accentuating the loneliness within them as well. There are also several shots focused on Buckley’s character that capture her sense of dread by leaving a significant amount of space looming over her. And the constant reaction shots add to the disorienting and unpredictable tone of the film.

All in all, it’s safe to say that multiple viewings are necessary to get a full grasp of the film’s overall narrative and themes, which isn’t anything new for Charlie Kaufman’s fans. But while interpretations are sure to vary, I’m Thinking of Ending Things still provides a memorable experience that makes for one of the most fascinating films of the year. Now, whether or not it will connect with most viewers is another thing. But as the film suggests, there’s “some universality in the specific.” Hopefully, this isn’t too specific.

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