The Third Man (1949) Ending Explained
TL;DR:
The Third Man (1949), directed by Carol Reed and written by Graham Greene, concludes with one of cinema's most iconic and morally ambiguous endings. Holly Martins (Joseph Cotten), an American writer, discovers that his childhood friend Harry Lime (Orson Welles) is a criminal who diluted penicillin, causing suffering and death. After a climactic chase through Vienna's sewers, Harry is shot and dies in Holly's arms. In the final scene, Holly waits for Harry's lover, Anna (Alida Valli), but she walks past him without acknowledgment, rejecting his love and his role in Harry's death. The ending underscores themes of betrayal, moral compromise, and the futility of idealism in a corrupt world.
Detailed Explanation of the Ending
The finale of The Third Man is a masterclass in unresolved tension and emotional ambiguity. After Harry Lime's death, Holly attends his funeral, where he stands alone, symbolizing his isolation. The film's famous closing shot features Anna walking toward Holly along a tree-lined avenue, only to pass him without a glance. This moment is devastating because Holly has sacrificed his friendship and moral high ground for Anna's affection, yet she refuses to forgive him. The long take emphasizes her silent rejection, leaving Holly-and the audience-with a sense of hollow victory. The zither music, which has underscored the film's ironic tone, resumes, reinforcing the idea that life goes on despite personal tragedies.
Themes and Symbolism
The ending encapsulates the film's central themes: moral ambiguity, betrayal, and the aftermath of war. Vienna, a city divided into Allied zones, mirrors the fractured loyalties of the characters. Harry's death in the sewers-a metaphorical underworld-suggests that corruption festers beneath the surface of postwar Europe. Holly, initially an idealistic outsider, becomes complicit in Harry's downfall, yet gains nothing from it. Anna's refusal to acknowledge Holly highlights the cost of his actions; she remains loyal to Harry despite his crimes, exposing the futility of Holly's moral crusade. The final shot's composition-with vanishing-point perspective-echoes the film's exploration of moral relativity and the impossibility of clear-cut resolutions.
Unresolved Questions
- Why does Anna reject Holly?
- She still loves Harry, despite his crimes.
- She blames Holly for Harry's death.
- She sees Holly as morally compromised, no better than Harry.
- Does Holly regret his actions?
- His somber demeanor at the funeral suggests remorse.
- His lingering hope for Anna implies he still believes in redemption.
- The ambiguity leaves it open whether he's learned anything.
- What was Harry's true nature?
- A charming but irredeemable villain (as his Ferris wheel speech suggests).
- A product of war's moral decay, not inherently evil.
- The film refuses to fully demonize him, leaving his complexity intact.
Personal Opinion
The Third Man's ending is a stroke of genius, refusing to offer closure or moral reassurance. Anna's silent walk is one of the most powerful moments in cinema, a rejection that lingers far longer than any dialogue could. Orson Welles' Harry Lime is a mesmerizing villain because he's not a monster-just a man who chose cynicism over morality. The film's noir aesthetic, combined with its postwar existential dread, makes it timeless. I appreciate how it denies easy answers, forcing the audience to sit with discomfort. Few films handle ambiguity with such confidence, and that's why The Third Man remains a classic.
Legacy and Influence
The film's ending has influenced countless noir and thriller films, from Chinatown to No Country for Old Men, which also feature morally unresolved conclusions. The zither score, the shadowy cinematography, and the unforgettable sewer chase have become iconic. Critics often debate whether Holly is a hero or a fool, but the brilliance lies in the refusal to define him. The Third Man is less about plot resolution and more about the emotional and ethical aftermath of betrayal. Its lasting power comes from its willingness to let its characters-and its audience-linger in uncertainty.