Reviewing the Motion of Time in I’m Thinking of Ending Things

By Ava Altenbern

“Like we’re on a train and it takes us where it takes us,” a young woman named Lucy rattles to her boyfriend, staring forward out the windshield towards the growing storm that covers a midwestern scenery in clouds of snow. “There’s no veering off, there’s no side trips, and like Mussolini’s train, it runs on time”. The statement begins a discussion surrounding the historical accuracy of Italian dictator Benito Mussolini’s efforts to organize an efficient railroad system, but nonetheless, the underlying theme of the conversation remains: the uncontrollable motion of life. Set within screenwriter and director Charlie Kaufman’s 2020 movie adaptation of Ian Reid’s psychological thriller novel entitled I’m Thinking of Ending Things, the dialogue surrounding Mussolini’s train is a single example of Kaufman’s use of both post-modern and surrealist representations to comment on profound human constructions such as hope, emotional connection, and time.

Although initially presenting itself as an innocent account of a young couple journeying through an Oklahoma winter storm to bond with family, Charlie Kaufman’s screenplay slowly devolves into an elusive reality starring an unreliable narrator at its forefront. As far as the audience can tell, the film takes place within the mind of Jesse Buckley’s character, a young woman named Lucy who, at one point or another, is also referred to by the titles Louisa, Lucia, Ames, and even Yvonne. Unsure of the lifespan of their relationship, Lucy joins her boyfriend Jake, played by Jesse Plemons, on a journey through a blizzard to meet his parents on their remote farmhouse, and in doing so, encounters delusions that morph in and out of actuality. Overall, the audience is transported through surrealist sequences that are based in Lucy’s own interpretations of her surroundings. Postmodernism, which emphasizes the idea that reality is not created through human understanding, but rather constructed as an individual explores their environment, is directly reflected within Lucy’s tumultuous endeavor to arrive back home (Peterson 147).

In the past, Kaufman’s films have relied on similar dream-like sequences to depict a character’s urgency to restore human connections, seen within Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind where the main character, Joel, is purposeful in his actions despite his chaotic surroundings. Once learning that Clementine, his ex-girlfriend, went to extreme lengths to forget their past relationship, Joel enrolls in the same procedure to erase his memories of Clementine. However, once the operation begins, the audience is forced to watch Joel weave through his own disorganized mind, desperately trying to save any recollection of his ex girlfriend. Where Kaufman’s former scripts have emphasized the efforts of the leads to sustain connections, I’m Thinking of Ending Things utilizes the more surrealist approach of automatism to describe the lack of control one has in their own existence (Suderman). When compared to Joel, Lucy is far less interested in coming to terms with the nature of her and Jake’s relationship, and instead, focuses solely on getting through the evening smoothly so that she can return home in a timely manner. Utilizing the film’s title to describe her feelings of restlessness, Lucy continuously states through a voice over, “I’m thinking of ending things”, making the audience question what exactly she hopes to bring to a close. On the surface, Lucy seems to be commenting on the blasé nature of her and Jake’s budding relationship, however throughout an extensive discussion between the couple during their drive to Jake’s childhood home, ideas of suicide and even changes of perspective are also brought to the table. Lucy’s new mantra seems to take on a life of its own, spiraling into uncontrollable depictions of the passing of time illustrated through different combinations of cinematic techniques; “editing, mise en scѐne, and sound” being the most effective in communicating the uncanny nature of Lucy’s situation (qtd. in Csönge 91).

Returning to the uncommon aspect ratio of 4:3, or the classic “full screen” display, Kaufman creates an image that forces the audience towards unsettled tension, placing emphasis on exactly what is and what isn’t being shown. In an interview with CineXpress, the director and screenwriter states, “having [a] narrow aspect ratio made us feel contained, and a bit claustrophobic”, condensing the space to accentuate details that are inherently important to the illogical progression of time. Superimposition of snow patterns on top of the character’s faces throughout their road trip creates a disorienting environment for the audience, and as the wind mixes in and out of the couple’s dialogue, anxious tension begins to creep into the scene, represented to the audience as sensory overload. Furthermore, the lighting utilized throughout the initial car ride transitions slowly from midday towards the black of night, and as the setting of the film then remains dark until its final scenes, the viewer has no idea of how much time has truly passed from the beginning of Lucy and Jake’s trip. Overall, the cinematic techniques utilized by Kaufman to create a surrealist experience for the audience favors a “non-coherent” narrative emphasizing sequences of “non-unified and non-linear space and time”(Sharot 71).

Although extremely effective in creating a disillusioned reality in which common human expressions are questioned, I’m Thinking of Ending Things is not a film that you can simply view once and grasp every detail. Kaufman’s conglomeration of disordered scenes and disjointed expressions of time becomes an onslaught of a never-ending cycle, effectively turning the title of the film on its head. With expressions of surrealist ideas, the director conveys universal moments of loneliness through a complex, 2 hour and 20-minute metaphor that may cause the audience to continuously ponder the film’s meaning, but never wastes their attention. Kaufman, of course, leaves you with unanswered questions, as he always does within his films, and the dissection of these problems would be fruitless as the exploration of his subtext reveals an endless stream of symbols to be analyzed. In any case, I’m Thinking of Ending Things leaves you with one certainty: time continues to press on, and the train urges forward.