Why do some movies start with the ending?
Understanding the power of reverse chronology in cinematic storytelling
(By Ray Reese)
(Matt Damon in Ford v Ferrari)
The Narrative Hook: Capturing Attention from the Start
Beginning a film with its ending is a bold narrative choice. Often referred to as reverse chronology, in medias res, or simply nonlinear storytelling, this technique has become increasingly popular in cinema. By revealing a climactic or conclusive moment at the beginning, directors hook the audience immediately, stirring curiosity and raising questions like, “How did this happen?” and “What led to this outcome?”
The psychological intrigue created by starting with the end can boost engagement. Viewers are not just watching events unfold—they are actively piecing together the puzzle. This tactic is used to subvert traditional storytelling and make the journey, not the destination, the primary focus.
Example:
In Fight Club (1999), the movie opens with Edward Norton’s character held at gunpoint, before flashing back to how the story reached that moment. Director David Fincher uses the scene to raise stakes instantly, without waiting for tension to build gradually.
Creating Mystery and Suspense
One of the primary reasons filmmakers start with the ending is to establish a mystery. It’s a deliberate storytelling mechanism that encourages viewers to focus not on what will happen, but why and how. It turns the film into an intellectual experience, where solving the narrative becomes part of the viewer’s engagement.
Example:
In Memento (2000), Christopher Nolan presents a story told in reverse, starting with the murder of a man and slowly unraveling the events that led to it. The reverse chronology isn’t just stylistic—it mirrors the protagonist’s amnesia and confusion, making the audience feel his disorientation.
Example:
In The Prestige (2006), another Nolan film, the ending is shown early, with one magician drowning in a tank while the other is arrested. What follows is a nonlinear narrative full of twists that eventually return the viewer to that starting point, now with complete understanding.
The Emotional Impact of Foreknowledge
Starting a film with its conclusion can deepen emotional engagement. When viewers are aware of an impending tragedy or triumph, they process scenes differently. Each conversation, decision, or glance becomes more significant. This foreknowledge adds emotional gravity to otherwise ordinary moments.
Example:
Titanic (1997) begins with the wreckage of the ship already discovered, and elderly Rose recounting her memories. We know the ship sinks, and that Jack dies. Yet, that knowledge intensifies the romance and dread, not lessens it. The ending adds a haunting resonance to the entire story.
Example:
Manchester by the Sea (2016) uses flashbacks to slowly reveal the devastating event that caused the protagonist’s grief. Knowing that something terrible occurred doesn’t ruin the story—it enriches it by layering every scene with deeper sorrow and understanding.
Foreshadowing and Thematic Framing
Starting with the ending can also serve as thematic foreshadowing. The conclusion shown at the beginning is often used as a thematic frame—an anchor that colors everything that comes after. It prepares the viewer to understand the story through a specific lens.
Example:
In Sunset Boulevard (1950), the movie opens with the narrator floating dead in a swimming pool. This morbid beginning tells us upfront that the story is doomed. As we watch the story unfold, we know it’s a slow descent into darkness, giving every moment a sense of tragic inevitability.
Example:
In American Beauty (1999), Kevin Spacey’s character tells us in the opening voiceover that he will be dead in a year. That early statement shifts the audience’s focus. Instead of asking “What happens?”, the question becomes “Why does this happen?” and “What does it mean?”
Manipulating Time: A Tool of Modern Filmmaking
Time manipulation in narrative has become more common with the rise of postmodern and experimental cinema. Directors aren’t constrained to chronological order and often jump through time to enhance meaning, explore character psychology, or simply to innovate the storytelling process.
Example:
In Arrival (2016), the film appears to jump between past and future, only to reveal in its ending that what we thought were flashbacks were in fact flash-forwards. This twist redefines the entire narrative in retrospect, challenging our understanding of time, memory, and choice.
Example:
Slumdog Millionaire (2008) starts with Jamal being interrogated for cheating on a quiz show. The film then moves backward and forward in time to show how his life experiences led to every correct answer. The use of nonlinear narrative not only adds suspense but highlights destiny and resilience.
Reflecting Character Perspective
Sometimes, starting with the ending reflects a character’s subjective viewpoint. When a film is told from a character’s memory, diary, or emotional recollection, the story structure often mimics the nonlinear, fragmented way humans actually remember and process life.
Example:
In 500 Days of Summer (2009), the film opens near the end of the relationship, then flashes back to earlier days. It’s told from Tom’s perspective, capturing the chaos of memory, emotion, and heartbreak. We already know the relationship ends, but the film explores why and what he learns.
Example:
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008) begins with Daisy on her deathbed, asking her daughter to read Benjamin’s diary. The story plays out through that lens, revealing key emotional details before returning to the framing moment with full understanding of their complex relationship.
Subverting Expectations and Genre Conventions
For filmmakers looking to challenge genre norms, starting with the ending is a way to upend audience expectations. It shows confidence and invites the viewer to experience something outside the norm.
Example:
In Irreversible (2002), director Gaspar Noé starts with the brutal aftermath of a revenge killing and moves backward through time to a romantic and peaceful beginning. The film’s structure serves as a brutal commentary on violence, time, and the irreversibility of trauma.
Example:
In Requiem for a Dream (2000), the viewer is given glimpses of the characters’ downfall before the narrative is fully developed. The film’s use of temporal manipulation creates a powerful anti-drug message without moralizing—letting structure itself communicate the consequences.
Building a Stronger Climax Through Contrast
When we already know how a movie ends, the contrast between the beginning (the end) and the rest of the film can make the climax hit harder. It’s like starting with a puzzle already half-solved and then watching how the pieces fall into place.
Example:
In The Usual Suspects (1995), we see the aftermath of a massacre on a ship early in the film. The entire movie works backward from that point, and the reveal at the end retroactively transforms everything we’ve seen before. The ending becomes more satisfying because we’re primed for a payoff.
Example:
Deadpool 2 (2018) begins with a dramatic death that redefines the tone. The rest of the movie is then presented in flashback, giving the audience time to emotionally prepare and better understand the choices that lead to the scene.
Keeping the Audience Rewatching
Another key reason filmmakers use this device is rewatch value. When a movie starts with the ending, audiences often want to watch it again to see how everything fits together. Knowing the conclusion encourages viewers to seek clues and appreciate the intricacies of the narrative.
Example:
Gone Girl (2014) starts with a seemingly innocent disappearance and quickly reveals more than expected. But once the audience knows the full truth by the end, rewatching the beginning feels like seeing a completely different film—one rich with foreshadowing and layered meaning.
Example:
Se7en (1995) ends with a grim revelation, but its impact is heightened by everything leading up to it. Knowing what’s in “the box” makes a rewatch even more intense.
Conclusion: A Tool for Meaning, Not Just Style
Starting a movie with its ending isn’t just a gimmick—it’s a deliberate storytelling tool. It can deepen character arcs, build suspense, enhance themes, and create a more immersive experience. Whether it’s used to mirror memory, reflect emotion, or challenge expectations, this technique speaks to the evolving language of cinema.
For audiences, it’s an invitation to look beyond the surface—to pay attention, ask questions, and engage on a deeper level. For filmmakers, it’s a chance to turn a simple story into a layered experience that rewards multiple viewings.
So the next time a film begins with what seems like the final scene, pay attention. You might just be watching the real beginning of something unforgettable.