NOT SUCH A HAPPY ENDING: THE IDEOLOGY OF THE OPEN ENDING
ERAN PREIS
Many films with open endings, like 8 1/2, Citizen Kane, Grand Illusion, Bicycle Thief, and The 400 Blows, are considered an artistic cornerstone in the history of the cinema. Other open-ended films, such as The Pawnbroker, The Graduate, Alices Restaurant, and Blow-Up, were very well received by the public. However, the present absence of such films on American screens suggests that the days of open endings are over. Herman Lewis writes in A Practical Manual of Screen Playwriting For Theater and Television Films that 'Box-office statistics prove that no matter how inartistic a happy ending picture may be, it will always get better box office than a more artistic unhappy-ending picture' (88). This fact, one could assume, makes it almost impossible to get a studio to produce a film with an unhappy or open ending.
In this paper, I am going to approach this issue of the open ending from a theoretical and pedagogical point of view. I will define and analyze some of the ideological conditions which motivate a writer to conclude his screenplay with an open ending, and then question whether screenwriting instructors in the 1990s should encourage their students to write non-classical Hollywood cinema endings.
The Open Ending
My approach to defining the open ending is to use the classical Hollywood cinema ending as a point of reference. In Screenplay, The Foundation of Screenwriting, Syd Field argues that in good writing for film 'everything is resolved dramatically, in terms of action and character: all questions raised are answered' (63). Viki King writes in her book How To Write A Screenplay In 21 Days that 'by page 120 the audience is satisfied that you gave them the story you promised them on page 10' (41). Classical Hollywood cinema offers closure on at least four levels: the plot, the story, the emotional state of the viewer, and the ideological assumptions of the film.
The open ending by contrast often leaves us with an ambiguous or missing plot resolution. The story may not offer any clues to the whereabouts and future of the main characters. An open ending often fails to fulfill the viewers emotional expectations by not offering a climax or other emotional relief. Finally, I will argue, an open ending doesnt confirm or reassure existing ideology; it questions ideology and demystifies it.
Alices Restaurant——Briefly on Past and Future
While the Israeli audience seemed to reject questioning ideology in a state in siege, the American viewer of the late 1960s and early 1970s welcomed it. In Alices Restaurant, Arthur Penn exposes his audience to what David Cook regards as 'certain dark realities of contemporary American life which the audience had itself largely chosen to ignore' (632). The last shot of this open-ended film continues after Arlo and Mari-Chan drive away. They leave the scene with an ambiguous promise to return, but they are clearly facing the future. It is we who, as Robin Wood suggests, 'contemplate Alice at such length' (116).
In a very long take that tracks back and zooms in simultaneously, we concentrate on Alice standing still by the church. The tree trunk blocks the camera view, distancing us to recognize our place as viewers of a film. The flat background emphasizes the screens two-dimensionality, helping us to recognize the methods of production. What we see is Alice, the character, a representative of hippie ide ology, contemplating whether to return to her old/new marriage and to a church that was sold as a house of God and failed as a house of love. When it comes to a confrontation with death or loss, Alice and Ray have 'no stable tradition or set of values from which to draw sustenance . . . they are thrown back on their own inner resources' (Wood 115). Much the same can be said about Udi in Stigma, Joe Buck in Midnight Cowboy, and Antonio in Bicycle Thieves. They are all left with a conflict rather than an answer. The tension of Alices last shot between the tracking away and zooming in brings forward the hardship of breaking away from existing but failing ideology. The somewhat abused metaphor of the cutting of an umbilical cord seems very appropriate. In Alices case, it is the kid, Arlo, who was cut free. The mother, Alice, the writer, and we the viewer, are left standing by the shattered corpse of the old ideology not knowing exactly what went wrong. This transition to the unknown through an open ending succeeded in connecting with the viewers of the 1960s, a period that could be considered one in which history was 'visible in the making' (Eagleton 29).
Syd Field claims that '... the days of the ambiguous ending are over. Vanished. They went out in the 1960s' (58). However short the period of questioning ideologies was, it helped to break conventions of form and content. David Cook compares it in kind, though not in degree, to the Czech new wave of 1968. It 'released a surge of creative energy whose influence continued to be felt long after the hope was crushed' (635).
The Pedagogical Dilemma
I find it appropriate to conclude my discussion of the ideology of the open ending with an open question. Based on the above, a successful use of an open ending requires: (1) A writer with ideological awareness and the ability to penetrate to the true nature of the experience; (2) A historical situation that allows him/her access to such insights; and (3) A viewer willing to replace closure with conflict, and accept ideology as a process rather than taken-for-granted truth.
With this complexity in mind, how should one encourage his or her student to write in the 1990s, when, as Terry Eagleton argues, 'art . . . becomes trivial and emasculated, because the sterile ideologies it springs from yield it no nourishment' (58)? Should one teac
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没有那么开心的结局：开放式结局的意识形态
ERAN PREIS
许多有开放式结尾的电影，如《8 1/2》，《公民凯恩》，《大幻影》，《偷自行车的人》和《四百击》，被认为是电影史上的艺术基石。其他开放式电影，如《典当商》，《毕业生》，《爱丽丝餐厅》和《爆炸》，都深受公众欢迎。然而，目前在美国银幕上这种电影的缺席意味着开放式结局的时代结束了。赫尔曼bull;刘易斯在《剧院和电视电影的屏幕剧作实用手册》中写道：“票房统计证明，无论一个快乐的结局画面如何不明显，它总是会得到更好的票房，而不是更艺术性的没有愉快结局的画面”（88）。人们可以设想到，这个事实使得制作一部不开心的或开放式的结局的电影几乎不可能。
在本文中，我将从理论和教学的角度来看待这个开放式结局的问题。我将定义和分析一些意识形态条件，这些条件促使作者以开放的结局结束他的剧本，然后质疑20世纪90年代的编剧教师是否应该鼓励他们的学生写出非经典的好莱坞电影结局。
开放式结局
我定义开放式结尾的方法是使用经典的好莱坞电影结尾作为参考点。在《剧本，编剧的基础》中，Syd Field认为，在电影的良好写作中“一切都得到了戏剧性的解决，在行为和性格方面：所有提出的问题都得到了回答”（63）。 Viki King在她的书《如何在21天内写剧本》中写道：“在第120页，观众对你向他们讲述了你在第10页所承诺的故事感到满意”（41）。古典好莱坞电影至少在四个层面提供封闭：情节，故事，观众的情绪状态以及电影的意识形态假设。
相比之下，开放式的结局往往给我们留下了一个模糊或缺失的解释情节。这个故事可能无法提供任何关于主角的下落和未来的线索。一个开放的结局往往无法通过不提供高潮或其他情绪缓解来满足观众的情感期望。最后，我会认为，一个开放式的结局并不能证实或保证现有的意识形态；它质疑意识形态并揭开它的神秘面纱。
《爱丽丝的餐厅》——简要介绍过去和未来
正当以色列观众看起来在拒绝在一个被围困的状态下对意识形态提出质疑时，20世纪60年代末和70年代初的美国观众却对此表示欢迎。在《爱丽丝餐厅》中，亚瑟bull;佩恩向观众展示了大卫bull;库克所认为的“观众本身在很大程度上选择忽视当代美国生活的某些黑暗现实”（632）。 在Arlo和Mari-Chan开车离开后，这部开放式结局电影的最后一个镜头仍在继续。他们带着一个模糊的回归承诺离开画面，但他们正清楚地面对未来。正如罗宾伍德所暗示的那样，我们是“以如此长的时间思考爱丽丝”（116）。
在很长的一段时间里，我们会同时追寻和放大细节，我们把注意力集中在爱丽丝站在教堂旁边的画面。树干阻挡了摄像机的镜头，使我们无法辨认我们作为电影中观众的位置。平坦的背景强调了屏幕与我们是两个维度，帮助我们意识到生产的方法。我们所看到的是爱丽丝，这个角色，是嬉皮士意识形态的代表，她要考虑是否回到她的旧/新婚姻，以及一个作为上帝之家出售并作为爱之家失败的教堂。当谈到与死亡或失去的对抗时，爱丽丝和雷“没有稳定的或者一贯的收入来维持生计hellip;hellip;他们被抛回了自己的内在资产”（Wood 115）。这与《耻辱》中的Udi，《午夜牛仔》中的Joe Buck以及《偷自行车的贼》中的Antonio情况大致相同。他们都留下了冲突而不是答案。《爱丽丝的餐厅》在追寻和放大最后一个镜头的悬念之际，带来了摆脱当下但没有意识形态的困难。切割绳子有点像滥用比喻但看起来非常合适。在《爱丽丝的餐厅》的案例中，正是那个孩子，阿罗，被切断了。母亲，爱丽丝，作家和我们的观众，都站在旧意识形态的破碎尸体旁边，不知道到底出了什么问题。通过开放式的结局向未知的过渡成功地与20世纪60年代的观众联系起来，这个时期可以被认为是历史“在制作中可见”的时期（伊格尔顿29）。
Syd Field声称“hellip;hellip;模糊结局的日子结束了。消失了。他们在20世纪60年代离开了”（58）。 无论质疑意识形态的时期有多短暂，它都帮助了帮助了我们打破惯有的形式和内容。大卫·库克（David Cook）在1968年的捷克新浪潮中将它与实物进行了比较，尽管不是程度上的。它“在希望被压垮之后，释放出一股创造性能量，其影响力持续了很长时间”（635）。
教育困境
我认为以开放式的问题结束我对开放式结尾的意识形态的讨论是恰当的。基于以上所述，成功使用开放式结尾需要：（1）具有意识形态意识且有能力看透真实本质经历的作者；（2）允许他/她获取此类见解的历史情况；（3）观众愿意用冲突取代封闭，并接受意识形态作为一个过程而不是被认为是理所当然的真理。
考虑到这种复杂性，人们应该如何鼓励他或她的学生在20世纪90年代写作，正如特里·伊格尔顿（Terry Eagleton）所说的那样，“艺术hellip;hellip;变得琐碎和阉割，因为它产生的无菌意识形态使它无法滋养”（58）？ 是否应该教导和鼓励一个学生为行业写作，因为那是大多数就业机会所在的地方？ 是否应该让他或她的学生认识到意识形态，因为“在这样一个时代，明确革命性艺术的需求再次变得紧迫”（伊格尔顿58）？ 我认为这种困境是现代教育中一个更大问题的一部分，即培训与教育相关的问题，这是我们作为教育者必须不断解决的问题。
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