Revisiting the ending of ‘Escape From L.A.’: John Carpenter’s campest finale
Sequels have always been a tough nut to crack, even for the best filmmakers in the business. In fact, it took a while for John Carpenter‘s Escape from L.A. to find any tangible levels of appreciation. These days, though, it’s firmly regarded as a cult classic.
It’s inarguably and extensively weaker than its predecessor without a shadow of a doubt, and Kurt Russell’s Snake Plissken gaining iconic status in the 15-year gap between Escape from New York and its successor only served to increase expectations Carpenter would have struggled to reach in the first place.
The second time around, the action unfolds in the far-flung and unimaginable future of 2013, with Cliff Robertson using his status as president of the United States to exile anyone who shows political disobedience to the desolate wasteland of Los Angeles.
However, his wayward daughter becomes a fly in the ointment when she snaffles the detonator to a nuclear weapon and absconds to LA to shack up with the man she loves, forcing the government to turn to Plissken and his trusty eyepatch for assistance. If he fails, he’s dead, which naturally helps encourage him.
Carpenter is adamant the second instalment is superior to the first, telling that to Creative Screenwriting in no uncertain terms. “Escape from L.A. is better than the first movie. Ten times better,” he said, “It’s more mature. It’s got a lot more to it”. Carpenter even acknowledged that it took time for his film to get the love he believed it deserved, recalling how “you’ve got to give me a little while” before fully understanding his intentions.
Whether or not anybody chooses to agree with him, it’s a fact Escape from L.A. goes completely off the rails in the final act, culminating in a truly bizarre conclusion that made it abundantly clear even in the immediate aftermath of Jurassic Park, CGI was nowhere near reliable enough to play such an important role in what was supposed to be a grandstanding finale, thanks to the notoriously poorly-rendered surfing scene.
Carpenter spends the majority of the running time mounting what’s not far off a beat-for-beat remake of New York story-wise, but this time with tongue planted firmly in cheek to satirise the very things that made the opener such an enduring gem. Never is that truer than in the last minutes, which swings for the fences in subversive style.
Robertson’s commander-in-chief sentences his daughter to the electric chair, taking what he believes to be the real detonator and trying to thwart an incoming attack. After realising he’s been duped, he orders Snake to be executed, only to find out it’s a hologram being projected from a tiny camera.
Sick of his country being separated and defined by class, Plissken detonates every satellite in the Sword of Damocles system, turning its very use against it by deactivating every single piece of electronic technology on the planet. He lights a cigarette, blows out a match, welcomes everyone to the human race, roll credits.
It’s bold, it’s brave, it’s strangely beautiful, and it’s completely in line with the belief Carpenter’s entire mission statement with Escape from L.A. was to give the people exactly what they want but have a little fun at their expense while doing it.
