Between “Wicked” and “Moana 2,” audiences are flocking to theaters in record numbers to catch a glimpse of two of the biggest musical movie events of the holiday season. “Moana 2” had one of the biggest opening weekends for an animated film ever, and you can’t step outside the door or glance at your phone without being hit with a piece of “Wicked” advertising. It’s no surprise that viewers want to invest their time and money in watching these feel-good films to enjoy a dose of cinematic bliss with family and friends after one of the most contentious years in recent memory. (Not to mention that all the excitement is confirmation that theaters have indeed gotten back on their feet after the worst of the pandemic.)

But what about those of us who don’t mind feeling bad, maybe even a little sick in the stomach? Those of us who find some solace in facing the uncertainty of the future while enjoying some delightful song and dance numbers? For anyone who doesn’t feel like being in a good mood when leaving the cinema and facing the winter cold, there’s Joshua Oppenheimer’s “The End”, an extremely ambitious film that sits on the pragmatic side of the film music spectrum. In his first narrative film, Oppenheimer — a two-time Oscar nominee for his stirring documentary work — builds a world that is as stylized, evocative and full of familiar faces breaking into song as any other theatrical event this season, with one crucial difference: his The film is about the end of the world.

If that’s a repulsive idea, it’s understandable; We spend enough time immersed in fear as it is. But despite its bristling concept, “The End” largely eschews direct images of annihilation, settling in a vast underground bunker with seemingly endless resources long after most people have died. Here we meet a close-knit family who spend their everyday lives as if they were still living in the fresh air and among friendly neighbors. Their cheerful temperament is in direct conflict with their circumstances, a plight they have learned to normalize in order to continue living rather than existing in permanent stasis. When an unexpected event disrupts their routine, each member of the household (or bunkerhold) is fundamentally changed and forced to shed light on their darkest thoughts and impulses. But what’s shocking is that Oppenheimer’s film is as touching as it is frightening. “The End” is a stunningly crafted wonder that boldly looks to the future rather than cowering in the present, and displays a gentle, honest urgency like no other film this year.

The sheer uniqueness of the film would be enough to establish The End as a great modern marvel, but once Oppenheimer begins to break through the façade behind which his characters live, the film expands and takes on exciting new forms. Mother (Tilda Swinton), father (Michael Shannon) and their son (George MacKay) – who was born underground and never saw the light of day – live in peaceful harmony with a few helping hands. The mother’s boyfriend (Bronagh Gallagher) cooks and gives the son the emotional support he can’t get from the brood’s downtrodden matriarch, while the butler (Tim McInnerny) and doctor (Lennie James) tend to all other needs. Your bunker, an amazingly constructed salt mine, has a house, individual rooms, a swimming pool, a fishery, and pretty much everything else you’d need after an eco-apocalypse.

Their isolation is luxurious, but still leads to a certain loss of sanity. Aside from the regular emergency drills the family conducts, they’ve all found enough monotonous contentment in their isolation to avoid thinking about what life above ground might be like. A large ensemble number opens the film in which the characters exchange verses that deftly extol the family’s shared naivety and reveal each individual’s neuroses. Most of the songs follow this pattern, as characters trade sections to create the kind of captivating, conversational lyricism one might find in a recent Lana Del Rey piece. The songs are by no means complementary, and their storied prose often engages the viewer where Oppenheimer’s non-musical text falters.

While his conceit is captivating, Oppenheimer struggles to consistently sustain the film’s initial momentum throughout its entire 148-minute running time. The mysterious arrival of a stranger from the outside world, Girl (Moses Ingram), gives the film crucial additional narrative power as she disrupts the family’s status quo and unearths long-buried truths. But “The End” is no ordinary film, and Oppenheimer isn’t interested in finding a clear path forward in his story. Big revelations and smaller, implied truths run parallel through his script, creating a distinctly human nuance. All of these characters – even the more callous ones like Father, a retired energy tycoon who writes a revisionist biography to absolve himself of guilt – are teeming with empathy. In this way, Oppenheimer brilliantly manages to embed his first work of fiction with as much graceful compassion as his documentary work.

The End (Neon)While this complex style of storytelling leads to tonal inconsistencies that may annoy the viewer, “The End” remains entirely undeniable. It’s a film that presents conflict as something we can approach with curiosity rather than derision. The characters pause to try to solve a new problem or deepen a conversation, although this occasionally causes the narrative to go off the rails; Watching The End sometimes feels like you’re watching someone do a big swing in slow motion. But that compromise regularly gives way to moments of beauty and tender resonance as they grapple with the contemporary hopelessness and shared madness that survivors embrace to bury their guilt. For this family, survival becomes blurred with care. But at the same time, a kind of care based on survival can never be real love.

Because “The End” relies so heavily on its ensemble, it works better when its characters interact. But the film also features some phenomenal solo numbers, like MacKay’s powerful song “Alone,” which appears at the beginning of the film. It is mostly a one-shot demonstration of the actor’s immense talent as he dances, kicks and falls on the film’s large sets. These songs look and feel like old Hollywood style musical numbers, but have charm because of their imperfection; Characters sing out of tune, they lose breath, and their voices break. However, MacKay’s voice is remarkable on its own and he delivers another one of the best performances of 2024 following his work in The Beast earlier this year.

But it will come as no surprise to long-time followers that it is Swinton who steals this spectacular show. As a mother, Swinton is at once stoic and gentle, reserved and romantic. Her story arc is the most fascinating in the film and, unfortunately, the only one that is explored with enough depth to truly captivate the heart. Mother’s solo song “The Mirror” is a moody, heartbreaking number that immediately proves itself to be a hot contender for Musical Performance of the Year. In the middle of the song, while Mother impressively remembers winters that smelled of oranges and cinnamon, she finally admits that she misses her family and all the little peculiarities that she was only able to appreciate when they were gone. “Mama can’t tell jokes because she always freaks out when she’s about to hit the punchline,” sings Swinton, “that goes for your grandson too, he can’t tell them either.” As a mother, she realizes that she wishes that her parents might meet their only child, she pauses and turns to her song to escape her grief. However, it will not be able to maintain this deviation forever. Shortly thereafter, the lingering feeling of regret changes the family dynamic again.

It may seem strange to have songs about catastrophic loss and the end of the world running through your head as you leave the theater, but that’s part of Oppenheimer’s argument. We should be familiar with the reality of the future, but not afraid to face it and plan for it, not only in terms of tactical preparation, but also in terms of how we treat people, what we buy, who we serve give our time and our money and what we do with our lives. By making a musical about the end of existence as we know it, Oppenheimer deftly allows us to lift our heads above the barrage of bad news and fear-mongering on social media and look at the world clearly and with passionate empathy . “The End” is not a fantasy and will not provide the same comfort and fighting spirit that you can experience if you stop by the theater next door and watch “Wicked” for the ninth time. But sitting in that discomfort is a vital feeling that’s sure to spark action, even if that action is just admiring the inevitable chaos of the holidays and how special it is that we’re allowed to feel it at all.

“The End” is currently in cinemas.