Biography of a Master
Seeing these message boards brim-filled with sanctimonious morality pinned to the films ending brings a tear to *my* eye in frustration of the posters sheer idiocy.
How could you retards possibly argue toward the notion that her tapestry caused her regret in any form? She got everything she planned for, hoped for and more. When's the last time you took a moment to shed a sad tear over your plans working 110% perfectly? Your plans have probably never worked, because either a) you are crap, or b) you've never had any plans FOR ANYTHING because you're a simpleton who relies on cradled morality being spoon fed to them at the end of every Hollywood blockbuster in desperation of re-affirming your blind devotion to faith.
I can just see the viewers of this film grasping at filmic convention in hopes of justifying the hurtful and mean things she does, and is ultimately why their reading of this tale is incorrect. For the weak-minded individual, it is beyond their capacity to consider the facets of filmic technique working in a way other then pushing for audience emotion, so they search for safe closure at the end, as if they were the whole reason the film was made.
This movie is a biography of a master; a genius of manipulation. Each scene is designed to show the audience the correct amount of information with which to appreciate her profound insight into the human psyche. YOU needed to see Mr. Anderson dress his wife up as a school girl because YOU only had suspicions toward his true motives. She knew. Only when you consider this in hindsight can you appreciate that her purpose wasn't moral in any way, but merely to puppeteer her teacher as a tool in her ultimate opus of manipulation. Each moment isn't a push and tug of your emotion, but a guage with which to measure the level of manipulation required.
Manipulation *is* evil, and her perfect conducting of the elements in her orchestra of life creates an opus of pain for everyone around her. Her reasons? Because she's sad at the bum hand life had dealt her, and simply wanted to level the playing field to assure everyone who was happy was as unhappy as her. It cannot be regret, because regret implies a yearning for previous happiness, which she never had. Every relationship in her life was based on falsity. Think to the few moments in this movie when you see her by herself - when the actual moment emotion-driven filmmaking kicks in for the protagonist - she is miserable.
When she finally sees her work, amongst the peerage of the school shooter and South Park, she can only behold the beauty of her creation. When Beethoven first listened to his completed 5th Symphony, he would never have regretted composing something that caused sadness to its players and listeners. The true brilliance of real artistry is that its message is more powerful then the morality that begets it. Like the artists who brought you this film, she could never regret bringing pain to her instruments, as she would never have completed her oeuvre. Was there even the slightest moment of guilt, at any step of the way? Her purity says it all, and is what confuses the hell out of the average plebeian. Your weak, pathetic lives wouldn't allow you to command great power, so you could never truly know the art that it might bring. Regret is for pussies who don't do things right the first time.