The Best Thing ‘Big Little Lies’ Did In Its Finale Was End

Big Little Lies — the HBO mini-series that pulled big movie stars Reese Witherspoon, Nicole Kidman, Laura Dern, Shaile Woodley, and Zoe Kravitz into the atmosphere of top-quality TV and set them upon a murder mystery that wasn’t really about the murder mystery but instead about their characters’ lives and fears and contradictions — wrapped up its seven-episode run just about perfectly on Sunday night. The series’ big questions were all answered: Who’s dead? Who did the killing? Who’s Ziggy’s father? Who’s been hurting Amabella? Have these women seen any Audrey Hepburn movies besides Breakfast at Tiffany’s?*

*The answers to these questions — and obviously you shouldn’t have clicked on this article at all if you’re trying to avoid spoilers, so skedaddle — were, in order: Perry; Bonnie; Perry; one of Celeste and Perry’s twin boys; and yes, but only Renata, who came strong with the My Fair Lady hat game.

But as anyone who’s been watching the series has come to understand, the success or failure of Big Little Lies was never going to come from who died or who did the killing. The show was about more than that. It was about Celeste silently assembling her boys’ bedroom in the new home she rented to escape their father’s abuse; it was about Madeline and her daughter finally relating on a personal level; it was about Jane and Celeste’s unexpectedly resigned heart to heart about their children’s violent natures; it was about Renata apologizing to Jane; it was about all five women wearing sweaters on the beach while their children played. And best of all, it was that it ended.

This doesn’t seem possible in this era of sequels, cinematic universes, spinoffs, and revivals. Nothing ever ends. Nothing. The Good Fight is streaming on CBS All-Access, we’re getting new Twin Peaks on Showtime, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child will be coming to Broadway, they’re setting up second revived seasons of Arrested Development and Gilmore Girls on Netflix, Will & Grace is returning to NBC, our third Spider-Man in fifteen years is hitting theaters in May, Blade Runner and Alien are back with new movies this year, and nobody will stop asking The West Wing cast members if they’re going to revive that show for the Trump era. Last December, Netflix presented The OA, a tantalizing and bizarre story about the afterlife and miracles and community and heroism that presented a bucket-load of questions, answered some of them, and delivered a (not-uncontroversial) ending that I’d rank as one of the most breathtakingly beautiful and audacious things I’d seen on a TV show in many years. It was a gorgeous way to end the show. So of course it’s coming back for season 2.

In Hollywood today, it’s not just that nothing succeeds like past success, it’s that nothing gets a chance to succeed without past success. In that respect, Big Little Lies was already a miracle. The second miracle comes when HBO proves it can resist the temptation to cannibalize a successful show simply because there would be a demand for it.

And of course there’s a demand for it. Do you know how rare it is that a show ends with its audience wanting more? That it ends before overstaying its welcome. Big Little Lies managed to end tantalizingly yet satisfyingly. Even the fact that it lasted seven episodes, as if it was originally going to fill a more standard limited-series order of eight or ten before realizing it didn’t need the extra time, felt like intentionally leaving the viewers wanting more. Those final moments saw the five central women, now bonded over their shared trauma and shared secret, relaxing on a beautiful beach while their kids played together nearby. And just as the credits were about to hit, we saw them through the perspective of a pair of binoculars. Someone is watching! Someone knows what they did last Trivia Night!

So, yes, obviously you could begin writing the storyline for Big Little Lies season 2 in your sleep. Someone knows they did it, but who? Is it police detective Merrin Dungey? One of those awful busybody townies? One of the husbands? Adorable barista and surprise heterosexual Tom? Fucking Avenue Q Joseph? You could easily get another season’s worth of mystery and intrigue out of this. Who cares that we’ve seen that kind of show before, everywhere from Pretty Little Liars to How to Get Away With Murder. Who cares that it runs counter to the whole idea of the murder being of secondary concern.

Good things can end! Good things should end, if they want to remain good things. You should reach the end of a good piece of TV, or a movie, or a book and feel a little sad that you won’t be getting more of it. If I had things my way, I’d be able to watch a live feed of Madeline, Celeste, Jane, Renata, and Bonnie, every day for my whole life. I’d also like it to be Christmas every day. But then it’d stop being Christmas. The only thing our current obsession with making sure nothing we love ever dies accomplishes is that TV shows and movie franchises keep going until nobody wants them anymore. It’s this insane creative Peter Principle where every story continues to the level of its own incompetence.

If you brought Big Little Lies back for a second season, the show’s very first casualty would be that wonderful final scene on the beach, where we see the women bonded by their experiences in those beach sweaters that I can’t seem to stop obsessing over. We don’t hear what they say to each other — in fact, the only dialogue we get from any of them after the murder is their witness statements to the police, which we know are manufactured half-truths. We can imagine what Bonnie might say to Celeste, or what Celeste might say to Jane; what Madeline might say to Celeste, what Renata might say to Bonnie. We can imagine how they talk about their secret together when no one else is listening. But we don’t hear it, and that’s a choice. It’s a choice made by writer David E. Kelley and director Jean-Marc Vallée, and a second season would render it completely meaningless.

For his part, Vallée has repeatedly said that season 2 won’t — and shouldn’t — happen. And in a rather encouraging sign, HBO promoted the episode as the “series finale,” after only the week prior calling it merely the “finale.” Maybe the cost of re-signing Kidman and Witherspoon after this huge success would discourage season 2 talk on its own. Whatever the reason, I’m going to keep my fingers crossed that this show I loved — the best television of the current TV season, if you ask me — stays finished.

Where to stream Big Little Lies