Steven Spielberg’s “Lincoln” distinguishes itself not just through its gripping political drama, but by how it closes one of America’s most pivotal chapters. Unlike many historical epics that flourish in spectacle, “Lincoln” leads viewers into a quiet, reflective ending.
After the 13th Amendment’s passage and the emotional surrender at Appomattox, the film skips direct dramatization of Lincoln’s assassination, choosing instead to show the president’s death in hushed tones at Petersen House and a flashback to his second inaugural address.
This creative choice brings both acclaim and heated debate. Many critics and viewers are moved by the understated intensity and the wordless recognition between Lee and Grant at Appomattox, followed by Lincoln’s peaceful last moments.
It’s a bold move for Spielberg, allowing the profound weight of Lincoln’s achievements and losses to speak for themselves, rather than leaning into shock or melodrama. The silence sharply contrasts with the political fervor and personal conflicts that fill earlier scenes, prompting audiences to process the legacy themselves.
Yet, some historians and fans argue that omitting Ford’s Theatre and focusing less on the assassination leaves viewers with unresolved feelings.
Lincoln’s murder was a seismic moment in American history; its absence, some say, risks diminishing the sense of tragedy and abrupt change it inflicted on the country. Others praise Spielberg’s focus on Lincoln’s personal qualities, emphasizing his foresight and capacity for reconciliation rather than his symbolic martyrdom.
The ending ultimately reframes his legacy as more than one of loss; it’s about the work he accomplished. Moments such as the quiet exchange at Appomattox and his final speech serve as meditative bookends, encouraging reflection over the drama.
By avoiding conventional closure, the film challenges viewers to reckon with the impact of Lincoln’s decisions and the meaning behind his peaceful farewell.
Political Wins and Personal Costs: Lincoln’s Triumph Comes at a Human Price
While “Lincoln” celebrates the president’s shrewd maneuvering to abolish slavery, the closing act captures the personal toll exacted on Lincoln and those around him.
Throughout the film, his efforts to secure votes for the 13th Amendment are marked by political compromise, tension among cabinet members, and deep family struggles. The quiet intensity of the ending underscores just how much Lincoln risked and ultimately lost in the pursuit of justice.
Lincoln (Credit: Netflix)
Late scenes revisit Lincoln’s relationship with his wife, Mary, and son, Robert. Mary insists a carriage accident was an assassination attempt, fueling her anxiety.
Robert, meanwhile, is determined to enlist against Lincoln’s wishes; their conflict crescendos into a painful confrontation that shows the strain on the Lincoln family. These threads run beside his public achievements, revealing that victory came with personal isolation and sorrow.
Lincoln’s legacy, according to historians, gains shape not simply from victory over the Confederacy or the abolition of slavery, but through the quieter aftermath of political and personal sacrifice.
In refusing spectacle, Spielberg’s ending forces a focus on these quiet battles: an aging father’s melancholy, a family fractured by pressure, and a president whose greatest triumphs arrive mere days before his death.
Debates persist about whether this ending properly honors Lincoln as a symbol or softens history’s most wrenching turn. Academic critiques often highlight the nuanced performances and how the film’s restraint foregrounds Lincoln’s humanity, flaws, and complexity.
For many, the lack of a dramatic finale makes the lessons of the story linger longer.
The Ongoing Discussion: How Spielberg’s Lincoln Shaped Public Memory
More than a decade since its release, “Lincoln” continues to spark conversations and sometimes disagreement. Film enthusiasts and historians alike are still weighing in on why Spielberg chose to frame the ending with calm, not chaos.
Some believe this directs attention to Lincoln’s achievements, inviting viewers to ponder their significance beyond his violent death. Others wonder if bypassing the assassination sidesteps uncomfortable truths about American violence and the cost of change.
Public response reflects this divide. Many viewers are drawn in by the film’s humanity, finding Lincoln’s farewell and final address both moving and thought-provoking.
Critics note that Spielberg’s choice complements the moral complexities portrayed throughout: Lincoln’s compromises, his evolving views on equality, and the burdensome responsibility of leadership.
From scholarly reviews to lively online debates, the film’s ending is a recurring topic. Historians have offered corrections and insights into what the real Lincoln faced, recognizing Spielberg’s accuracy in political maneuvering if not always in personal detail.
Fans continue to revisit the significance of the film’s closing image and whether it fits with how they imagine Lincoln’s story should be remembered.
In sidestepping sensationalism, “Lincoln” models a restraint rarely seen in Hollywood’s major historical dramas, giving viewers room to think and feel for themselves. The enduring resonance of its ending shows how one director’s decision can provoke new interpretations of legacy, loss, and the meaning of progress.
The Post concludes with one of the most dramatic and important moments in American legal and journalistic history: the Supreme Court’s decision allowing the Washington Post to publish the Pentagon Papers.
These classified government documents exposed decades of lies and deception surrounding the United States’ involvement in the Vietnam War.
The film tightens the tension as it presents the justices deliberating the highly charged case of prior restraint, which concerns the government’s attempt to prevent publications from being printed.
In an intense sequence, the tension peaks as both the government and the newspaper face the ultimate question: Does the state have the right to censor truthful information vital to public knowledge?
The Court’s decisive rejection of the Nixon administration’s request marks a historic affirmation of the First Amendment and press freedom in the face of political power.
This legal victory, portrayed with meticulous care, resonates deeply beyond the 1970s, echoing in today’s world, where the balance between national security and transparency remains fiercely debated.
By focusing the climax on this ruling, The Post shows that guaranteeing a free press is crucial to democracy, especially when governments may seek to suppress uncomfortable truths.
Journalists’ courage to reveal hidden realities and the legal system’s role in protecting such efforts form the backbone of the story’s urgency and moral weight.
Katharine Graham: Breaking Barriers in Journalism and Leadership
The film’s emotional core is Katharine Graham, the first female publisher of a major American newspaper. Graham inherits her late husband’s leadership role at The Washington Post but initially wavers under enormous pressure.
The film portrays her internal conflict vividly, torn between protecting the paper’s financial future and the ethical imperative to publish the truth during a politically explosive era.
The climax’s weight rests on Graham’s transformation from a hesitant heir to a formidable leader embodying integrity and bravery. Her decisive phone call to editor Ben Bradlee, authorizing the publication despite government threats and potential lawsuits, captures this turning point.
This moment symbolizes not only professional courage but also personal empowerment as she defies the male-dominated corporate and journalistic world of the early 1970s.
The Post (Credit: Netflix)
Graham’s leadership breakthrough is a powerful statement on ethical responsibility, putting public interest above self-preservation. The film’s portrayal of her journey sheds light on the challenges women faced breaking glass ceilings during the era, as well as broader questions about the role of leaders under duress.
Her resolve to print the Pentagon Papers stands as a beacon for anyone facing difficult choices between risk and principle.
This narrative resonates strongly in contemporary contexts where ethical decision-making and gender representation in power remain hot topics. The Post honors Graham’s pioneering spirit while prompting reflection on the qualities true leadership demands.
A Bridge to Watergate: Connecting History and Continued Relevance
While The Post focuses primarily on the Pentagon Papers saga, its closing moments draw a direct line to the Watergate scandal, which soon followed and shook the core of American democracy.
As the film ends, a title card and subtle final shots remind viewers that the revelations around Vietnam were only the beginning; the next political firestorm would be Watergate, exposing abuses of power by the Nixon administration on a different but equally profound scale.
This connection expands the film’s significance from a historical retelling to a broader commentary on government transparency, political accountability, and the media’s watchdog role.
Critics and viewers alike have recognized that linking these two iconic moments enriches the story and highlights the ongoing need for courageous journalism.
In today’s fractured media environment, where debates on “fake news,” press freedom, and government secrecy dominate, the final scenes of The Post take on renewed urgency. The film encourages audiences to see history not as distant but as a foundation informing current struggles for truth and integrity in media and politics.
The Post ultimately argues that the fight for fearless journalism and democratic oversight is never finished. Its ending acts as both a celebration of past victories and a warning that vigilance remains essential.
Why The Post’s Ending Still Matters Today
The significance of The Post’s ending reaches beyond cinematic drama; it invites real-world reflection on the delicate balance between national security and the public’s right to know.
The Supreme Court decision dramatized in the film has become a cornerstone for press protections, influencing countless legal battles concerning leaked information, whistleblowers, and government transparency ever since.
Moreover, Katharine Graham’s story represents more than a personal victory; it signals the power of ethical leadership that refuses to capitulate to fear or political pressure. Her courage models how individuals and organizations can uphold truth even when the stakes are life-altering.
Finally, the linkage to Watergate reinforces the film’s message that exposing governmental wrongdoing is an ongoing effort. The scandals uncovered decades ago provide crucial lessons and warnings relevant to any age, especially with rising concerns about surveillance, misinformation, and political manipulation in the digital era.
The Post’s ending thus transcends its historical context, becoming a timely reminder of democracy’s fragile foundation and the role journalism plays in bolstering it.
