Bidding farewell often takes more than just goodbye’

Kirk Baird

Thursday, Sept. 29, 2005 | 9:02 a.m.

Saying goodbye is never easy.

That's especially true in Hollywood.

While a few TV series and movies manage to stay true to their convictions, most seek an unnecessary "feel-good" finale that pours on the sickly sweet sentiment.

Still, some of the more memorable moments of television and film unfold at the end, whether it's a popular sitcom concluding its network run or a plot twist to a film that forces viewers to re-examine everything they've seen.

Certainly one of the most-hyped endings in TV history was the "Seinfeld" finale. More than 75 million viewers tuned in to see Jerry, George, Elaine and Kramer sentenced to prison under a small town's Good Samaritan Law for failing to help a carjack victim.

While the episode was uneven even with series co-creator Larry Charles returning to pen the script I always appreciated the final shot of the four friends sitting in a jail cell.

As the camera pulls back, Jerry offers the trivial observation to George that the second button on a shirt is the "key button."

"It literally makes or breaks the shirt. Look at it, it's too high, it's in no-man's land."

George replies, "Haven't we had this conversation before?"

Indeed they had, in "Seinfeld's" pilot.

It was a nice touch as the characters and the series came full circle with simply nothing more to say.

Unfortunately, an epilogue in which Jerry performs stand-up in prison to fellow inmates diluted the impact and meaning of the jail cell conversation.

The ending to "The Mary Tyler Moore Show," however, concluded the series' seven-season run on a high note as the WJM-TV newsroom staff is canned with the exception of no-talent anchor Ted Baxter (Ted Knight). The group exits the station singing "It's a Long Way to Tipperary," with Mary Richards (Moore) returning for a final glance at the newsroom before turning out the lights.

"Cheers" closed with Sam Malone (Ted Danson) telling an unseen bar customer, "Sorry, we're closed." The finale drew 80.4 million viewers, good enough to make it the second most-watched series finale.

And the most-watched finale?

"M*A*S*H," with 105 million viewers, which also makes it the highest-rated broadcast of all time.

It was difficult not getting a bit misty-eyed as Hawkeye (Alan Alda) leaves the 4077th by helicopter and sees the word "GOODBYE," formed of white rocks on the ground, from his friend B.J. Hunnicut (Mike Farrell).

Considerably less emotional was "Newhart's" twist ending, in which Bob Hartley (Bob Newhart) awakens in bed with his first sitcom wife, Emily Hartley (Suzanne Pleshette), and discovers that he had dreamed his life as Dick Loudon, innkeeper in a small town in Vermont.

Perhaps the most surreal ending to a TV show, though, was the finale of "St. Elsewhere." The series about St. Eligius Hospital and its staff was revealed to be the imaginative product of an autistic boy.

While TV certainly has some classic endings, traditionally, it's the movies that offer the most unforgettable finales.

Certainly the endings to "Casblanca" and "Gone With the Wind" helped these films achieve classic status.

And who wasn't blown away by the sight of the partially sunken Statue of Liberty in the original "Planet of the Apes," as Charleston Heston realizes the alien ape world is post-nuclear war Earth?

Another favorite shocker for an ending is "Hell in the Pacific," starring Lee Marvin. The World War II story is of a marooned Japanese navy captain and an American soldier who alternately fight and help each other to stay alive on a deserted island in the Pacific. The movie concludes with the pair blown up just as they near freedom.

The DVD, though, offers an alternate ending, with the pair simply going their separate ways.

While spotty in terms of comedy, "Penn & Teller Get Killed's" darkly twisted finale involving suicide on a massive scale is worth the effort of tracking down this cult film.

Also darkly inspired is the uproariously ironic conclusion to "Monty Python and the Life of Brian," which provides serious laughs and a catchy tune as Brian (Graham Chapman) and others sing "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" while being crucified by the Romans.

And who can forget the famous line uttered by Gloria Swanson in the final scene of "Sunset Boulevard"? "There's nothing else. Just us, the cameras, and all those wonderful people out there in the dark. All right, Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up."

As for ending a career, Johnny Carson proved to be the master of grace and class, as he did so often throughout his career, concluding his reign as "Tonight Show" host in May 1992 with a succinct and sincere farewell:

"And so it has to come to this. I am one of the lucky people in the world. I found something that I always wanted to do and I have enjoyed every single minute of it.

"You people watching, I can only tell you that it's been an honor and a privilege coming into your homes all these years to entertain you. And I hope when I find something I want to do and think you would like, I can come back and (you will be) as gracious in inviting me into your homes as you have been. I bid you a very heartfelt good night."

And so it's time for me to find a way to say goodbye as well.

I've been a part of the Las Vegas Sun Accent section since December 1999, first as a general assignment reporter and later as the paper's pop-culture writer; however, I will not be a part of the new Las Vegas Sun.

So do I conclude my final Sun story with a twisted ending, in which I reveal that I was really the one-armed killer who tormented Dr. Richard Kimble?

Or perhaps I compose a heartfelt thank you to the paper's readers and editors, similar to what Charles Schulz wrote in his final Peanuts cartoon? "I have been grateful over the years for the loyalty of our editors and the wonderful support and love expressed to me by fans of the comic strip."

I could always end with some profound statement, such as the one Sydney Carton utters as he is about to be executed on the guillotine in Dickens' "A Tale of Two Cities": "It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest I go to than I have ever known."

OK, perhaps that's a bit morose. And profound statements are often stodgy.

The Beatles, for example, on their final album "Abbey Road," could have left listeners with this deep thought from "The End": "And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make."

Instead, the Fab Four chose to close with the quirky ditty "Her Majesty": "Her majesty's a pretty nice girl, but she doesn't have a lot to say. Her majesty's a pretty nice girl, but she changes from day to day."

I've always pictured George, John, Paul and Ringo sitting in the studio giggling at their decision to ruin the perfect ending.

I could finish ala Missile Command, a popular video game from 1980 in which you defend cities from nuclear holocaust. The game concludes with the ominous onscreen words "The End," which are quickly swallowed by a nuclear cloud.

But writing "The End" somehow seems too final, as it's certainly not the end of me.

There's also the "star wipe and cut" approach employed by Homer Simpson as he edits a home movie.

Instead, I've opted to conclude my final story at the Sun with the same Carol Burnett song lyrics I scrawled on the "wall o' quotes" at my college newspaper years ago.

"I'm so glad we had this time together/Just to have a laugh or sing a song. Seems we just get started and before you know it/Comes the time we have to say, 'So long.'

"Goodnight everybody."

(Tug on earlobe).

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