The World's End

Over this weekend, I had the pleasure to a night with my four best friends and a screening of The World's End. Walking into the high security movie theater with a $20 dollar hole in my wallet, I anticipated a hilarious and action packed finale to the beloved Three Cornetto trilogy. And I got that; however, when the credits rolled, I sat still in my seat, patching over what I had just watched. Not that the ending was something profound that hit me deep down, I had just never really experienced the message that was delivered to me, and in the way it was delivered. A quick synopsis for those who haven't gotten around to seeing it (don't worry, there's plenty of commentary to make up for wasted summarizing words):

*Spoilers, if you were the minority who actually looked forward to seeing the movie then you should have already seen it already. If not, you've been warned*

The protagonist, Gary King, is an alcoholic who is still tied to the past and the glory he experienced during his teenage years. To describe his character: he is still attending a party that has ended over a decade ago. Thinking fondly of what he remembers to be his greatest night, he decides he must return to his hometown and drag along his five childhood friends so that can complete their unfinished business: The Golden Mile, a twelve stop pub crawl. (They had only made it through 9). Immediately, I recalled, not from experience, that alcoholics must follow a twelve-step program to recovery. This would be Gary's closure. And so Gary's adventure begins, but not without resistance from his five hostage. His friends, all of whom have adhered to the system, are stuck at their desk jobs and are in unhappy marriages. The contrast between their boredom and Gary's obnoxiousness is glaring. It is revealed that everyone in their hometown has been replaced by "Blanks", an alien robotic race that has set up the internet to assimilate into culture. Mankind's imperfection frustrates the aliens, and they leave, taking the internet with them, but leaving the "blank" duplicates behind. The world ends. Duh. The robots, who were previously unconscious, wake up and begin to search for guidance. They find it difficult to re-assimilate into society after the computers have gone down. I thought it was a shameless jab at those who are absorbed with technology, but it certainly reminded me how much I rely on the internet. If something were to happen to it, would I be able to properly function? Do I want that much reliance on it? But that wasn't the central point. The last scene of the movie features one last bar. Gary, sporting a cowboy hat and a medieval sword, strolls up to the bartender and orders a water. He is surrounded by 5 duplicates of his childhood friends. After sparking up an argument with the bartender, he releases a battle cry and rushes forward into the shot, abruptly ending the movie. He fate isn't important, but what is important to notice is that Gary orders a water. This led me to the assumption that he is no longer an alcoholic. He doesn't have to numb himself anymore with substances, and can handle the world through a sober lens. His friends are forced to view it through a sober lens, technologically speaking, but are still miserable. It was almost troubling to watch the movie, as it was difficult to discern what the moral was. Yes, Gary is a miserable alcoholic who is stuck in the past, but his hedonism gives him a reason to live. . . Am I to believe that either way I lose? But then I realized the folly of Gary's boring friends. They grew old and turned their back on their past. Gary was able to grow up, but still appreciated the company of his childhood. I turned to my best friends, and smiled at how appropriate this movie had been to our outing. I knew that wherever I ended up in life, it was important to hold onto friends like these. They tether me to my own identity. Without them, I'm a blank.