One potential non-storyform reason for the audience dislike of the original ending (which is my theory and is not fact) could be the audience perception in the 1980s. Theater audiences are used to tragic endings - Romeo and Juliet, for example, is praised by audiences. On the flipside, movie audiences in the 1980s had seen a LOT of happy endings. Not many tragic or sad ones.
The Little Shop Of Horrors' bleak original ending was finally restored for the movie's Blu-ray release. While far from the first movie to receive a revised cut, one of the most famous examples of a Director's Cut is Ridley Scott's Blade Runner. While the film received a lukewarm critical and commercial reception during its original release, it slowly gathered a cult fanbase thanks to its great performances, rich themes and fantastic visuals. Scott was forced to include an ill-fitting happy ending and a bored voice over from Harrison Ford to appease producers for its theatrical release, but the eventual 1992 Director's Cut removed these elements, and for many is the vastly superior version.
Word of the first ending became legend, however, and a 1998 Little Shop Of Horrors' DVD featured unfinished, black and white footage of this ending that was swiftly recalled when the producer rebelled against its poor quality. The Little Shop Of Horrors Director's Cut Blu-Ray arrived in 2012 and finally featured Oz's original, intended version. While some fans still prefer giving Seymour and Audrey a happy ending, this new cut feels like the movie it was always intended to be and the effects are still incredibly charming in the new finale.
Since Laura is Twin Peaks: when we watched Laura die, we also watched Twin Peaks die. It was a sad and depressing show, but I venture to say that FWWM is truly a happy and fulfilling ending to the series, even though it does not feel like it.
Everything that we loved and everyone that is central to Twin Peaks is okay: Cooper and Laura. Maybe the outside world is still in turmoil, just like the earth after someone dies, but people are safe. Laura is safe, finally. FWWM is a happy ending because it shows Laura who never had that safety having that one thing.
But we can rest assure that Laura, the center of Twin Peaks, is safe with Cooper. And that maybe, just maybe they love each other: something that Laura may have never truly felt, and Cooper had only felt once in his life. This is the happy ending of Twin Peaks. In essence, nothing else matters but the life and death or our beloved and favorite character: Laura. For this is where the story began on that first Sunday night on ABC, and this is where the story ends: with Laura.
However, one element of the Disney dubs of Ghibli films that I'm finding has really begun to bother me as of late is their necessity to force a "perfect" happy ending in a film where it wasn't their originally.
The only Disney dubbed films with melancholic or bittersweet endings that managed to escape this fate were Princess Mononoke and The Wind Rises which due to their respective content I'm sure were impossible to dub in a way that created a totally happy ending without upsetting Ghibli and their NO CUTS policy with their films. Unsurprisingly, these two films were released under subsidiaries of Disney such as Touchstone in order to less associate these films with the Disney brand.
That's when things got famously ugly. Gilliam, in his communications with Sheinberg, called what would happen next a "war" for the fate of the film, while Sheinberg used words like "terrorist" when discussing Gilliam in interviews with Mathews. Gilliam famously took out an ad in Variety publicly asking when Sheinberg would release his film, and even got interview-averse Brazil co-star Robert De Niro to appear with him on American television to discuss the struggle. Still, Sheinberg forged ahead with a plan to craft a version of the film with a happily-ever-after ending (in Gilliam's version, the happy ending is a delusion happening in the head of the main character), which led Gilliam to take even more drastic measures.
So, which version of the film should you watch? Well, the 132-minute American cut is sitting right there on Peacock, it's likely the most widely-seen version of the movie at this point, and it retains Gilliam's original story arc with a few omissions here and there. So, head over there and watch it, see what all the fuss was about, then go and seek the other cuts. See what Gilliam intended with his longer cut, and see what Sheinberg hoped for with the shorter, "Love Conquers All" cut, happy ending and all. When taken together, the trio of cuts represent a legendary moment in Hollywood history, and three facets of one of the best sci-fi movies ever made.
Giving the film a too-happy ending would be just as ineffective. Both Scott's idea about Louise pushing Thelma out of the car, and the final shot of the car driving on the extended ending, are less impactful than the finale we got. Of all the choices made in the alternate endings, the car shot is the only one I don't totally hate. It gives us the idea that these women aren't sad about meeting their fate; that they're just moving on to another adventure. It's still unnecessary, though, as we can read all of that with crystal clarity in Sarandon's and Davis' faces.
Logan wasn't just a film that managed to enthrall, captivate, and rejuvenate the superhero genre, it also made even the most cynical and hardened of moviegoers shed a tear. Of course, it did just that by showing us the death of Hugh Jackman's Wolverine, who died protecting Dafne Keen's X-23. In this moment, after eight films of being the permanent outsider, Wolverine finally understood what it meant to have a family, to be satisfied, and to even be happy. That's according to the film's director James Mangold, who recently explained why he believes the ending of Logan is actually a happy one. James Mangold recently told CinemaBlend,
Something gets born of every tragedy. In many ways, I look at the movie and I realize what a happy ending it is. At least from the perspective of Wolverine's character. I think, unlike anything you have seen in the previous seven or eight movies, he's happy in his final moments on this earth. He's happy. He feels somehow satisfied, and I think that's something very few of us might be able to say in our parting glances from this world. That we suddenly taste and know everything and feel like we got to experience everything. And I think in some way, and Hugh's performance is really transcendent there, he communicates that and leaves us more moved than bereft.
Yet, the rejected Russian roulette scene works better than the forgettable ending John McTiernan did use, slowing down the action, distilling the franchise down to its most basic elements. The sharp banter and tension ramp up to an intense payoff, the crux of the movies taking center stage, the battle of wits between master criminal and ordinary beat cop. Evidently this was perceived as incredibly dark and made the hero look like he had begun to develop a bloodlust, rather than try to enact justice. Also, it spoiled any future sequels as McClane was now a disgraced cop. Maybe that would have been better than the mediocre sequels we got.
What's different? Few films offer nascent filmmakers an object lesson in studio interference like Terry Gilliam's torturous attempts to release Brazil. His dark, dystopian story of a British society governed by a terrifyingly banal Big Brother-style bureaucratic regime was greeted with uncertainty by US distributor Universal, with head Sid Sheinberg demanding, and then manufacturing (without the director's knowledge) a slimmed-down, happy ending version known as Love Conquers All. It is, suffice to say, terrible. The original theatrical release hews closer to Gilliam's vision, though it is missing two much darker passages which enhance the dystopia, which both feature in the slightly longer Director's Cut.
Naturally, being a studio movie, Bigger Than Life had to disguise such subversiveness. It winds up with an officially happy ending, even if Ed's grin seems a bit, well, crazy. You see, he's caught in the endless conflict between a profound longing for security, a security built on repression and mediocrity, and a burning desire for liberation, to shake off the constraints of civilization and live as libidinously as the gods. And if his story still resonates after all these years, that's because it offers a heightened version of something we all feel. Torn between being safe and wanting to live large, Ed isn't actually a weirdo or nut job. What he is is a modern American.
The American and international theatrical versions released by the studio also included a "happy ending." Such a scene was originally scripted, but was ultimately not shot during principal photography due to time and budgetary restraints. Additionally, Scott had grown distasteful of the scene, wishing to end the film on a more uncertain note. After the mixed response from the test screenings, this ending was rewritten, filmed, and appended to the film. The filmed "happy ending" was shot in March 1982 and incorporated unused footage from Stanley Kubrick's The Shining.[1]
In May 1982, the American theatrical version was screened for a sneak preview audience in San Diego, California, but with the addition of two brief shots not present in the later theatrical cuts of the film. The first shows Roy Batty stepping out of a Vid-Phon booth (a shot that re-emerged in The Final Cut) and the second is an overhead shot of Deckard driving at the opening of the happy ending. The San Diego screening garnered a more enthusiastic response than the Dallas and Denver showings, but some in attendance indicated its pace being too slow, so Scott cut the two aforementioned shots. The Vid-Phon booth segment was replaced with Roy looking at his clenching hand, accomplished by altering two shots that appear later in the film.[1]
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