When You Wish It Would Never End

It has been a chaotic week; very pleasant in many ways, a little harrowing in others. And this morning I had to wait for the garage door repair guys to come and replace the garage door opener, which was in its final throes. So this afternoon I took myself to see Casanova. It is enormous fun, gorgeously set and costumed, with duels of wits, politics, sex (most chastely off screen) and romance. And a pig. It has something of the same sort of charm that Shakespeare in Love had, including some of the goofy dialogue (as the characters hare off in a coach, seeking to evade the forces of the Inquisition, one turns to another and says "this is the last time I travel in Coach!"). It ties up neatly and satisfyingly--this is not an original or groundbreaking movie, it's simply fun (and I want the soundtrack).

As I left the theatre I had that nice glowy feeling of wishing that it had gone on, just because I so enjoyed being in that world and watching those people. And this made me realize that this is a feeling I only have about stories and films and TV shows that do end. I wonder if I'd have that same feeling with a book or film or whatever that didn't end satisfyingly. Which is to say: it's all very well to build a nifty world that it's fun to spend time in, and people it with characters you find attractive or funny or heroic (or best, all three). But if you can't tie it all together and make it end, I don't think people are likely to want to come back again and again.

What do you think?