The Will Smith blockbuster I Am Legend was an undeniable box office success. Having set the record for the highest grossing December opening ever ($77.2 mil.), it is safe to say that audiences everywhere loved the film. Yet there were many who were left feeling cold and empty with the rather incongruous ending. Why was there this sudden tangible shift in the narrative during the last 10 minutes? It wasn’t until the recent release of an alternate version of the film on DVD that those who were left bewildered in the theaters finally found the ending they had hoped for.

So why was one version so much more emotionally fulfilling than the other?

My Experience with the Film

As mentioned elsewhere on this site, I rarely get to see movies in the theater. Because of this I didn’t get to see I Am Legend until recently when it was released on DVD (Blu-Ray and Netflix have become my new best friends!). Aware of the positive buzz surrounding the alternate version, we chose to watch this version first. I wanted to see what it would be like to create one work of art, and then have it drastically changed. Besides, why waste time watching something that you know wasn’t going to be good, right?

Turns out I made the right choice.

If you completely ignore that last scene of them driving off to the commune (I thought all the bridges out of Manhattan were destroyed…), the film has a really great story. It’s not perfect as there was a need for more character development. But for a film that was only 104 minutes long I thought it provided a very satisfying and emotionally fulfilling story.

But I also understood why there was no way this version would have ever made it to the theaters.

Hollywood executives are terrified of downer endings and this was, without a doubt, a bona-fide Tragedy. In this version, Neville (Will Smith) not only failed to find a cure, he also came to discover that he was responsible for murdering hundreds of sentient and evolving beings who were fully capable of that all important human quality - love. Despondent and disgusted with himself, he could do nothing more than crumple to the floor in shameful hopelessness.

Beautiful.

But movies are a money-making business right? And nobody will pay twice for a depressing ending - at least that’s the common sentiment nowadays. I disagree. I think today’s viewing audience, especially in light of current events, has grown very familiar with real-world tragedies and is ready to explore these kinds of stories on a mass consumption level. When the world around you has grown increasingly meaningless, one is compelled to find it somewhere.

Great meaning can be gained from tragic endings

The studio, however, did not agree with my aforementioned soapbox proclamation and asked for the ending to be re-shot. In its place they shoehorned in the time-tested story of personal sacrifice and consequently left the audience feeling as if something very important had gone missing. With no meaningful change to be found anywhere, the story of I am Legend became no more important than the fairy tales for which it shared its structure with.

The Difference between a Meaningful Story and a Tale

I know of two different kinds of stories: those that have meaning and those that don’t. Those that don’t are known as tales. Authors of these kinds of stories forgo meaningful resolution for the sake of pure entertainment, and unfortunately some don’t even provide that. At the very least these tales provide their audiences with a laundry list of things that happened to the characters involved: first this happened, then this, then that, then the end. The characters start at Point A and they end up at Point Z. End of story. Our understanding of the world around us has grown little, if not at all.

In Cinderella, girl gets abused, girl gets dress, girl goes to ball, girl gets boy. What’s the point? There have been several successful attempts to transform this into a full-fledged story (Ever After being one), but in its purest form the original narrative means absolutely nothing. Sleeping Beauty is even more pointless: girl falls asleep, girl wakes up, audience falls asleep. Snore.

When we grow older, fairy tales like these add little to our lives. Sure, Little Red Riding Hood could be seen as a cautionary tale warning against the dangers of taking shortcuts, but it doesn’t come anywhere close to the portrayal of unrelenting hope found in The Shawshank Redemption or the examination of misguided interpretations that permeate Chinatown. These kinds of stories strive to add meaning to our lives and thus, are often more emotionally fulfilling than their fairy tale compatriots.

Fortunately, the alternate version of I am Legend provided us with the meaning so many of us seek when we go to see a good story.

The Problem with Robert Neville

Robert Neville is a man driven to find a solution — a solution that may be impossible to find. It has been three years since Dr. Alice Krippin (Emma Thompson) unleashed her cancer-killing virus on the world. Unfortunately, this would-be panacea for the world’s problems turned out to inflict more harm than good as it plunged the world into a chaotic nightmare. 90% of the world’s population, infected by the treacherous virus, mutated quickly into a super-race of hyper-ventilating super-strong killer vampires. Of the remaining 10% that went unaffected, 9% were devoured by these blood-thirsty monsters. The remaining 1%, of which our hero Neville belongs, found themselves scattered across the world, venturing out only during the day to seek for food, water, and hopefully some sort of human companionship.

Neville believes he has a purpose; that he survived for a reason. “I can fix this, I can fix all of this” becomes his battle cry — an unfortunate mantra that has plagued him for years and ultimately, ends up proving disastrous for those closest to him.

In flashbacks we witness Neville’s singular steadfastness as he rushes his wife and daughter off the island of Manhattan. “I’m not gonna let this happen,” he yells at her — an argument he carries to anyone who steps in his way. He succeeds and watches tearfully as the helicopter carrying his beloved lifts off for safety. But the triumph only lasts for a few seconds before a nearby helicopter, shackled by the weight of desperate people seeking safety, loses control and smashes into the helicopter carrying his wife and daughter.

Seen in the greater context of the alternate version of the story, this sequence carries great meaning. Who knows what would have happened if Neville had just sat tight with his family? There was no guarantee that they would succumb to the virus. At the very least his daughter had an awesome chance of surviving as she carried half of Neville’s genes. Perhaps, if he hadn’t been so blindly driven to save everybody, they might very well still be alive. But he couldn’t just sit at home and do nothing, he was a fixer.

Like Krippin’s failed attempt to fix the problem of cancer, Neville’s attempts to fix things only served to create even greater problems.

Actions Have Consequences

The Butterfly Effect plays prominently in this version of the film and seems to be the primary image motif. The effects of people’s actions, no matter how justly motivated, can ultimately turn catastrophic - as they were for Krippin’s cure for cancer and more importantly, as they were for Neville’s bull-headed approach towards finding the antidote for the vampire scourge.

Neville’s “experiments on the infected” have had their own destructive consequences. Ghastly images of past test subjects litter the wall of his laboratory. When asked by Anna if every last one of them died, Neville coldly answers “yes” without a hint of concern or remorse. He cares little what sort of effect he is having on this new species. The only thing that matters to him is finding that cure.

This drive to fix things, is a blind spot deep within his character. Meaningful stories are built around these blind spots. In fact, the whole point of meaningful stories is to expose these unknown qualities to characters in their penultimate moment of crisis. The alternate version gave us this moment.

An Emotionally Compelling Ending

Hordes of blood-thirsty vampires descend upon Neville and the two people he has promised he would protect. Chasing him into the glass-sealed chamber of his basement laboratory, the vampires begin smashing everything in sight, waiting for the chance to tear at Neville’s flesh. Neville holds his hands up in protest and proclaims, as he always has, that he can “fix this” and that he can “save everybody!”

The main vampire, having cracked the protective glass enough to recognize a pattern within it, begins to smear his hand across the glass. He creates the image of a butterfly — shocking Neville into the reality of what his actions have wrought. Quickly, Neville makes the connection between the vampire’s butterfly and the butterfly tattoo on the patient lying behind him.

This was why this monster risked death by stepping out into the sunlight, and this was why this monster was able to rig a trap for him, and this was why this monster would stop at nothing to reach one of Neville’s “lab rats.” This monster was no monster; he was a sentient being in the process of evolving into a higher form of consciousness. And this thing lying on the table behind him was no “lab rat,” it was someone this creature loved, someone this creature would do anything for.

Neville’s drive to fix things blinded him to the pain and suffering he was forcing on others.

As in all great stories, the Main Character of the story has now become aware of his own blind spot. The crisis forces the dilemma. With his back literally against the wall, Neville finds himself faced with a life or death decision. Should Neville continue what he has always done and try to fix the situation as best he can? Or does he let go of his previous way of seeing things and try a different way?

Fortunately for us lovers of story, his character has progressed to a point where he must make the decision he makes.

Neville opens the door and slowly wheels the patient out. He knows what these animals are capable of, but he has also grown to the point where he really knows what these animals are capable of - love. Once a killer of vampires, Neville has now changed. No longer a fixer, he is now content with acquiescing to the whims of a violent vengeful tribe of vampires.

The vampires surround Neville waiting for the command to strike, a command that never comes. The alpha vampire, reunited with his beloved, spares our hero’s life and leaves with the others. Neville, ashamed of the countless murders he has committed in the past, falls to his knees. There will be no cure, no antidote. There can’t be, for now he sees his place in the world in a completely different light. What’s more is that this change he has undergone has done little to quell the angst that has been buried deep within him from the very beginning. He still wants to fix things, but he knows that he cannot. He realizes now that he had become the legendary monster that hunted these creatures as they slept.

“I Am Legend” now takes on a very ominous, yet thought-provoking meaning.

This is the very definition of a tragedy: The central goal of the story has failed and the main character is left with his own personal angst unresolved. Audiences might not leave “happy” from such a story, but they do leave feeling a sense of fulfillment and I believe thankful, for the greater understanding of life. Audience members know what it is like to fail in an endeavor and they know what it is like to be unsettled. Why we fail and why we feel unresolved are just as important questions in life as are how we succeed and how we can feel splendor. Great meaning can be gained from tragic endings; new ways of thinking can be adopted.

Contrast this version of the story with the silly ending audiences were exposed to in the original theatrical version.

The Legend of The Theatrical Version

In this version of the film we are treated to the “legend” of Robert Neville and his discovery of the cure for the vampire plague. Gone are the intricacies of a developing culture of vampires and the cautionary commentary on man’s desire to constantly fix things. Gone too are the subtle references to the Butterfly Effect. The butterflies in this version are really just butterflies. No, in this version we are treated to a tale — a laundry list of actions that Neville undertook. Events from the alternate version that carried so much meaning, now feel empty and shallow.

Neville’s diary entry, where he records his observation of the alpha male risking sunlight exposure to get to him, used to contain such deep irony. In the alternate version this scenes shows how Neville had failed to realize that these vampires were not descending into “social de-evolution” but rather were willing to sacrifice all for those they loved. A key component of meaningful films is the presence of cognitive dissonance - where things you previously took for granted are now seen in a different light. This existed in the alternate version of the diary scene; Neville’s incorrect assumption gave him room to grow and something to learn. In the theatrical version it means what it means - the vampires are descending into pure madness, therefore they must be blown up.

Yuck.

And while we’re speaking of the explosive end, it’s worth pointing out how completely ridiculous it is that he would have a grenade just lying about in one of the shelves in his operating room. While watching the theatrical version I thought it was bad enough that Neville conveniently had a wallet-sized picture of his family stashed away in one of the drawers — the grenade pushed my incredulity over the limit.

Some stories do not require a happy ending

And why didn’t he crawl into the chimney with Anna and the boy and toss the grenade from safety? The sarcastic answer is this: Because everyone knows that the only truly meaningful story is the story of personal sacrifice - a story where the hero gives up his life for the greater good. Having lost the wonderfully poetic ending present in the alternate version, the filmmakers were forced, it would seem, to squeeze some kind of meaning into this positive ending.

The only problem is that the story up until that point did not require a happy ending. The word require is very important here. Everything in a story works together in harmony. Every line of dialogue, every action a character takes, every exploration of theme, all of it plays together like a great symphony; if one musician decides to play out-of-tune, the entire piece suffers for it. This happy ending plays just like that — a shrill discordant shriek, disappointing audiences everywhere.

Even the actual music playing over the end credits speaks of the meaningful differences between the two. In the alternate version we are treated to a symphony of dark motifs; the ominous score by James Newton Howard gives us a chance to reflect on the error of Neville’s ways and perhaps gives us pause to reflect on our own. In the theatrical version we are treated to Bob Marley’s “Everything’s Gonna Be All Right.” While wonderful in its own right, when used in context here its purpose becomes insidious. Everything is going to be all right? In other words, don’t worry about how bad things have become or whether or not how what you’re doing might affect others; everything will work out just fine.

Terrible.

Conclusion

This is not to say that the alternate version is perfect: the glimpse of hope we see as Neville and company make the trip to Vermont is a cop out, a chance to alleviate the fears of releasing an out and out tragedy on the audience. And there was a dirth of character development that still needed to be explored. But at the very least it avoids the cheesiness factor that is the ending of the theatrical version. After all we have experienced with him, is it truly satisfying to have Anna and the boy arrive at a compound where Neville’s “legacy” is provided (in the form of a cure) and where his name is legend?

The theatrical version provides us with little more than the re-telling of his story and what Neville went through to save the world. There is no meaningful change and therefore no true means of measuring the growth his character undergoes. As such, this work of art becomes sadly forgettable - something no artist strives for.

The solution to this tragedy of story was simple - finish the story in the way that was required. Grant the audience the assumption of intelligence and allow them to synthesize the meaning of the story themselves - allow them to take the story into their hearts. The alternate version carried with it a very important message - that even our best intentions can have disastrous repercussions, repercussions that could ultimately plummet the world into devastating chaos. Shouldn’t that idea be presented to a world audience?

If the filmmakers of I Am Legend had left the story the way it was originally intended, they could have transformed this film from simply legend to legendary.

Share This

Somewhat related to this article

• I Am Legend: Deeper Analysis→

• facelift→

• even the fluffy get a chance→

• User Group Analysis for Next Week→

• Shakespeare used Dramatica→