One that’s bothered me is Bride of Frankenstein, for lots of reasons. Most of the film is an absolute hoot, and more fun than the original Frankenstein, with Ernest Thesiger as Dr. Pretorius showing you how to embrace your inner Mad Scientist, and trying to persuade Colin Clive to do the same. It’s fun if you ignore that your hired goons are killing people.
But once they’ve revealed the Bride in all her glory (they even dress her up in a wedding gown to present her to The Creature, as if she’s some kind of birthday gift) and she pointedly rejects him, where do you go? Obviously he’s upset and wants to destroy everything, so they evidently figured they’d just end the film there by giving him the means to do so. For absolutely no good reason, there’s a lever these that will blow up everything real good (“You’ll blow us all to atoms!” shouts Pretorius) – a lever that makes absolutely no logical sense. It’s the size of a baseball bat, so you know it’s serious. So the Creature pulls the lever, because Pretoroius’ warning tells him that it’s exactly what he has to do. And the lever fulfills its function and everybody dies. The End.
Except the Powers That Be chickened out, and decided they needed a Happy Ending. Colin Clive and his wife Elizabeth get to live, and the audience can go home happy. But how? Have the Creature have an unexplained change of heart. Using his newly-learned powers of speech, he eloquently declares to his creator and his bride “You go! You live!” Then to Pretorius (and to his newly-created Bride “You stay! We belong dead!” The Bride hisses gooselike in reply. There’s absolutely no reason for this change of heart, and no logic to it. If you look closely, in the destruction of the laboratory you can see Colin Clive’s Dr. Frankenstein there, as doomed as everyone else. They didn’t want to spend the time or money to reshoot the scene.
And evidently not everything was blown to atoms, because The Crature came back years later, still played by Boris Karloff (for the last time) in Son of Frankenstein, although the Bride didn’t make it. The Frankenstein creature was apparently blown right into an alternate universe, where instead of Ingolstadt the laboratory sits in the town of Frankenstein, and wasn’t destroyed. Amazing the power of movies.
And also, it’s to show the audience that they’re not as smart as they think they are. In Fallen, there’s an opening voice over that says something like, “This is the story of the day I almost died…”
At the end of the movie, it looks like the hero has engineered it that the bad guy will finally lose. Hurrah! But then, more voice over…“You forgot, didn’t you? I said this was the story of the day I almost died…” The Hero missed something, and the bad guy lives to be Evil another day.
Especially since they never showed the blacksmith being at all interested in Sir William as a romantic partner. She had her own story, just wanting to invent new ways of making armor, and got involved with the knight and his buddies so as to advance that goal, to be recognized as the armorer for the champion.
In movies like Some Kind of Wonderful, they always at least hint at the Other Girl being secretly in love with the Boy who is too besotted by The Beautiful Girl to see it.
To be fair, is it any more of a suspension of disbelief than the original novel, when the narrator comes home to find his house standing but his wife not there…and then it turns out that not only HAS his wife survived, but that her cousin has brought her home at the exact same moment and is telling her that there’s no way her husband could have survived?
Of course the police subplot was part of the story. The victim was killed by a knight. The thing is that you don’t realize it was part of the story until it’s tied up a the end. It seems like a random joke, but it has a purpose and the Pythons were thinking outside of the box of cliches you expected.
Great comedy deals with the unexpected. You want it to follow the well-trod path and it bothers you that it didn’t. That’s a sign of how great it is.
You’re not the sole arbiter of what defines great comedy.
So by your interpretation, this “great comedy” is really set entirely in the present day, and there are castles full of foul smelling Frenchmen and hot to trot maidens and singing knights, peasants in the mud discussing political systems who debate whether some rando might be the king (and not QEII), and plague villages and witches, and trolls guarding bridges and killer rabbits, and no one else notices? Or we’re just supposed to roll with multiple levels of absurdity and be called unsophisticated for not “getting it”?
Face it: they didn’t know how to end the film, and figured “hey, we can do anything, and some fans will defend it.”
Well of course the anachronism is part of the humor. Similar to how in “Bored of the Rings”, the Black Riders were stopped from pursuing Frito across the river by a toll bridge.
There’s also G.I. Joe: The Movie, which was meant to be a big-screen continuation of the animated series but ended up only getting a serialized TV and video release. (Unmarked spoilers ahead.)
Like Transformers: The Movie, this was meant to introduce new toys to the line and get rid of some characters to make room for them. But the makers of G.I. Joe were working on their script before Transformers’ makers were working on theirs, and word got back to the TF crew that G.I. Joe was going to kill off Joe commander Duke (who’d already been sidelined in favor of General Hawk the previous season). The TF crew said, “Hey, that sounds cool and cutting-edge. Let’s do the same thing and kill off Optimus Prime!”
According to Joe and TF writer Buzz Dixon, this was a mistake because the audience for Transformers was, on the whole, younger than that of G.I. Joe. The Joe writers, though forbidden to kill anyone off in the series, made an effort to show that there were consequences to war and, overall, had somewhat more mature writing and storylines (including one multi-part story that wouldn’t have been out of place on The Prisoner). But when the younger Transformers audience was confronted with the death of a beloved character, they (and their ticket-buying parents) lost their minds.
This made the makers of G.I. Joe–under orders from Hasbro, who handled both properties–backpedal furiously even though their own movie was all but completed. So when Duke took a bullet–er, snake-projectile–to save his younger half-brother Lt. Falcon, who had his own coming-of-age arc in the story, they hastily dubbed over dialogue saying he’d “gone into a coma.” If you watch the movie with that part muted, it’s obvious from the characters body language that Duke has joined the bleedin’ choir invisible. Similarly, at the end, there’s a dubbed-over radio message that Duke is out of the coma and “going to be A-OK” just before the characters cheer their victory, so it looks as if they’re cheering Duke’s recovery. Then we cut to Falcon looking at the sky (as if to his brother in heaven) and saying “That was for you, Duke,” even though he’s supposed to still be on earth. Again, if you mute the radio message it’s clear that Duke’s supposed to have died.
So chalk that particular cop-out up to some crummy decision-making on the part of the Transformers crew. (And hey, I like Duke so I guess it worked out okay.)
Yet you complain when Brooks does the same thing. The “real life” ending was telegraphed from the moment Bart encountered Count Basie in the desert. Then the movie ends in classic fashion with the hero riding off into the sunset. Just…differently.
Holy Grail’s ending works from an absurdist standpoint. Blazing Saddles’ works from a story.plot/archtype standpoint.
The toll bridge wasn’t an anachronism - toll bridges have existed as long as there have been bridges, a private party would build and maintain a bridge, and charge for crossing. It would have fit into Middle Earth’s technology level perfectly. The humor in Bored of the Rings is that the Nozdrul respected the bridge instead of just murdering the toll taker and proceeding on. Just like Taggart’s gang at the tollbooth in Blazing Saddles.
A running gag that does not intersect with any of the other characters in anyway until literally the last minute of the film isn’t really “part of the story,” in my view.
Calling the end of Grail a cop-out is a bit unfair, though. It’s not a proper end to the story, but then, it’s barely a story in the first place. It’s more a broad theme to write a bunch of largely unconnected sketches around. There’s no character arcs, no rising and falling action, there’s barely even any continuity between scenes, except for the presence of Arthur and his knights. It’s not really surprising that they didn’t write an ending to the film, considering they didn’t write a beginning or a middle for it, either.
Blazing Saddles, by contrast, does have an actual plot, with a genuine protagonist and antagonist, and a conflict that’s sufficiently interesting that it could sustain a non-comedy movie with largely the same plot.
These are two pretty different forms of comedy, with different expectations, and which one is superior is purely taste. I tend to prefer comedies that also work as narratives, but liking a format that prioritizes throwing as many jokes together as possible and ignoring everything else is certainly a valid opinion.
If “great comedy deals with the unexpected,” then surely Blazing Saddles is the superior ending, for being even more unexpected than the ending to Holy Grail?
No, I’m fine with both those things. I can just recognize which approach takes more effort and craft, and which is an excuse to avoid doing something that’s kind of difficult to do. Endings are often hard to write, especially in comedy, and Monty Python is pretty famous for not even bothering, to the extent that it’s not really supportable to call it “unexpected” when they do it in their first real movie after five years of doing the same thing in their TV show.