The Best “Final Films” Ever Made—and Why They Matter

We’ve had so many filmmakers of late claiming that they will be directing their “final” films, with the likes of Clint Eastwood, Woody Allen, Terry Gilliam, Frederick Wiseman, and Quentin Tarantino all hinting at it. Yet for every filmmaker who fades creatively or struggles to adjust to changing times, there’s another who somehow continues and, at times, catches fire late in life.

The best “final films” often feel like a summation disguised as a goodbye, intentionally or not. I’ve noticed that many late works tend to feel stripped down, but self-assured, as if the directors have shed the fat. Many are confined to just a few rooms or sets—Carl Theodor Dreyer’s “Gertrud,” John Huston’s “The Dead,” Robert Altman’s “A Prairie Home Companion”—films that are modest but emotionally immense.

I always turn to what critic Edward Said described as “late style”—a stage when artists, freed from both ego and expectation, arrive at a purer form of self-expression. No longer chasing approval or reinvention, they simply make the work that only they could make.

Twenty-six years ago, Kubrick’s “Eyes Wide Shut” was released in theaters. It was the longest continuous film shoot in movie history, but more than anything else, the film was notable for being the final statement from one of the greatest filmmakers. It’s a great example of Said’s criterio of “late style.”

“Eyes Wide Shut,” although originally met with mixed reviews, is now seen as another worthy addition to Kubrick’s staggering filmography. It’s also one of fifteen “great” films I’ve found that happen to be their maker’s final statement:

• An Autumn Afternoon (Yasujiro Ozu)

• The Dead (John Huston)

• A Prairie Home Companion (Robert Altman)

• Eyes Wide Shut (Stanley Kubrick)

• L’Argent (Robert Bresson)

• Gertrud (Carl Theodor Dreyer)

• Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead (Sidney Lumet)

• Imitation of Life (Douglas Sirk)

• Once Upon a Time in America (Sergio Leone)

• That Obscure Object of Desire (Luis Buñuel)

• Saraband (Ingmar Bergman)

• The Sacrifice (Andrei Tarkovsky)

• Yi Yi (Edward Yang)

• Red (Krzysztof Kieślowski)

• F for Fake (Orson Welles)

Speaking of Tarantino, as you know, he has been insisting for a few years now that he plans to quit making movies after his tenth feature. Of course, “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” was his ninth film, so that just leaves us with one more. This whole notion of retiring after ten movies comes from Tarantino’s theory that a director’s quality of work only declines as their career goes on. Tarantino claims to want his filmography to be perfect—or, as he puts it, “without a misfire.”

“Most directors’ last films are fucking lousy,” Tarantino told the Pure Cinema podcast. The key word there is “most.” There are still many exceptions to the rule. It’s a flawed theory that doesn’t have much substance to it—an assortment of great filmmakers kept making wonderful films well into their twilight years.

It’s quite interesting what’s happening right now in cinema—something that’s never really occurred before—where you have a number of filmmakers over 80 still making films. I’m thinking in particular of Martin Scorsese, Hayao Miyazaki, David Cronenberg, Clint Eastwood, Ridley Scott, Francis Ford Coppola, and Woody Allen.

We can’t know when these titans of cinema will leave us—but how fortunate we are to still anticipate their next film. Every new work is a gift. We should savor each one, flaws and all, cherishing the classical touch they bring—a dying breed of filmmaking that will one day be overtaken by the next trend. There will never be another quite like them.