Meaning In Mystic River

Happy endings are presumed to belong to the realm of fantasy. In real life, after all, even a thumping electoral victory is generally more a first act than a last; what ensues, much too often, is disappointment, broken promises and even murmurs of a recall. When the believer, in any faith, tells us that the reward for bloody sacrifice is eternal joy, the nonbeliever is often tempted to think that the believer is merely trying to justify the ways of God to man. On earth at least, the end of life is death.

America, though, is the spiritual home of new beginnings, which may be why it has always had a soft spot, a special gift, for happy endings. We speak brightly of ''closure,'' as if the most difficult things in life could be wrapped up as neatly as a gift package; we speak of people ''passing on,'' as if the end of life were just a passing phase. America, in fact, could almost be defined as the place that chose not to root itself in the
Revenge, the film reminds us, is the death of closure. Bad deeds, even in this most devoutly Catholic of environments, can be answered by only more bad deeds. When ''Mystic River'' presents us with a stunning climax, there's still no relief in sight. A father realizes he has killed a lifelong friend for nothing. A wife rejoices in the killing. A cop acknowledges there's no end to crime. And the little boy whose father has done everything he can to protect him from the brutal cycles of the streets comes to look as stony and beaten as his dad. The jaunty parade with which the film concludes is a brilliant mockery of even the thought of happy