This month’s Roundtable — the most tragic moments in sci fi, fantasy, and horror — was pitched by Kelly McCarty, and it’s so good because there’s a lot to choose from. One of the key components of a traditional epic is tragedy; and in all good storytelling, there must be stakes and the threat of danger to motivate characters and propel the plot forward. When the people we love fail, or when there is loss of any kind, we feel it. So we ask you to pull up a chair, grab the tissues (just in case), and revisit the saddest moments in speculative fiction.
Spoilers ahead! ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚
Erin S. Bales: For my money, dear Chicers, there are few moments more tragic than the final minutes of “Journey’s End,” the season finale of season four of Doctor Who.
Let’s set the scene, shall we? The first time Donna Noble (Catherine Tate) makes an appearance is in the holiday episode between seasons two and three. Due to reasons, Donna is teleported aboard the TARDIS. Neither Donna nor the Doctor (David Tennant) expects this to happen, which is especially evident in Donna’s case because she’s wearing a wedding dress.
Anyway, there’s a giant spider-esque queen trying to take over the Earth, and it’s up to the recently companionless Doctor and his unintentional hitchhiker to save the day. Here’s the thing, though. Donna…is pretty awful. She’s a loud, crass, shallow gold digger whose only saving grace is her comedic timing and the undeniable chemistry she has with the Doctor (Tate and Tennant have gone on to play the leads opposite one another in at least one of Shakespeare’s comedies on the stage).
But, at the end of the episode, when the Doctor offers Donna the change of a lifetime — to travel through space and time, to save countless lives and have endless adventures out among the stars — she refuses.
Instant regret turns to determination, and Donna, with the help of her amateur astronomer grandfather (Bernard Cribbins), begins searching for any sign of the Doctor so that she might take him up on his offer. For two long years, she investigates every strange occurrence she can find around the globe, but it’s not until the first episode of season four, “Partners in Crime,” that the Doctor and Donna are at last reunited.
After making their way through a silly and rather adorable, although still dangerous, adventure, Donna finally joins the Doctor as one of his official companions. And even though people mistake them for a couple everywhere and everywhen they go, it’s clear that there is not an ounce of romantic or sexual tension between them — a refreshing change from Rose (Billie Piper) and Martha (Freema Agyeman), both of whom fall head over heels for the Doctor.
Over the course of a single season, the Doctor and Donna both gain a BFF, and Donna grows into the sort of woman who can, and does, save the entire universe. But, at what cost?
Through a complicated series of events, Donna absorbs the totality of the Doctor’s knowledge, turning her from companion to hero and, eventually, to victim. Turns out, the human brain isn’t capable of holding all of the information accrued over the centuries of Timelord’s life. The only way to save her from dying is to wipe her mind of anything and everything having to do with the Doctor.
And so, despite Donna’s tearful objections, despite her desperate pleas not to be turned back into the flighty, self-absorbed woman that she was, the Doctor chooses to save her life and wipes her mind. It’s a tragic outcome, exacerbated by the fate that no one except for the Doctor and Donna’s grandfather will ever remember her heroism and her sacrifice. The Doctor has also lost his best friend, but, worst of all, we’re given a brief glimpse of Donna crowing into a cellphone, laughing loudly at someone else’s misfortune: a confirmation that Donna, the truly noble Donna, is gone forever.
Kelly McCarty: When I think of the saddest moments in speculative media, there are two that stand out.
The Hunger Games is one of those rare times when the film improved on the source material, primarily because Jennifer Lawrence is a far better actress than you would expect to see in a dystopian movie for teenagers. The Hunger Games takes place in the post-apocalyptic, North American nation of Panem, which has been divided into twelve districts. Every year, a boy and a girl from each district between the ages of 12 and 18 are selected to participate in a televised fight to the death. The winner’s district is rewarded with food and money, but the game is rigged in favor of the wealthy Capitol district. Lawrence plays Katniss Everdeen, a teenager living in District 12, which was once Appalachia. In a very moving scene, she volunteers to take her little sister’s place in the games, which means her almost certain death.
But the saddest moment comes when Rue dies. Rue, played by Amandla Stenberg, is the youngest participant. Katniss forms an alliance with Rue because she is an emotional substitute for the sister she left behind. Another participant impales Rue with a spear. The wound is clearly fatal but Katniss whispers, “It’s okay. You’re okay.” We see the sunlight fading through the green leaves from Rue’s perspective as Katniss sings a lullaby. We see but don’t hear Katniss scream and cry. She gathers up baby’s breath flowers, arranges them around Rue’s body, and kisses her forehead. In the scene’s most heartbreaking moment, Katniss turns to the camera and gives the three-finger salute of District 12. The people in Rue’s home district, gathered to watch the games, return the salute. A heavyset man (Rue’s father?) attacks one of the Capitol police. Other people start assaulting the police and destroying property. What makes this scene so poignant is that in the film, we understand why the unjust death of a black child at the hands of the state would spark a riot. In real life, many of us don’t.
But there can be only one saddest moment of all time. It will make you cry buckets. I shared a meme about it on my brother’s Facebook and he may never forgive me.
In Futurama, Philip J. Frye is a pizza delivery boy who is accidentally cryogenically frozen on January 1, 2000. He reawakens a thousand years in the future, after everyone he knows is dead and gone. Frye takes a job as a delivery boy at Planet Express, a company owned by the Professor, Frye’s many-times-over great nephew. In the episode “Jurassic Bark,” Frye finds the fossilized remains of his dog from the 20th century, Seymour, on display at a museum. The Professor has a way to clone Seymour and even recreate his personality and memories.
As the cloning process starts, Frye learns that Seymour lived to be 15, surviving twelve years after Frye was frozen. Frye stops the cloning and says, “I had Seymour until he was three. That’s when I knew him. That’s when I loved him. I’ll never forget him, but he forgot me a long, long time ago.” He kisses the fossilized dog. Then the flashback hits. Just before he was frozen, Frye told Seymour to wait for him in front of Panucci’s Pizza. We see Seymour, nervous and confused on the sidewalk. The seasons change multiple times. The owner of the pizzeria comes out and pets him. The pizza shop gradually becomes dilapidated. In the background, Connie Francis sings, “I will wait for you for a thousand summers.” In the last frame, Seymour lies down and closes his eyes. He waited for Frye until the day he died. I was gutted.
Kristina Elyse Butke: When this topic was first pitched, the very first image that popped into my head was the iconic scene from The Neverending Story, where the warrior Atreyu has to pass through the Swamps of Sadness in order to find Morla, The Ancient One, who possesses the knowledge on how to find the cure for the dying Childlike Empress.
“Everyone knew that whoever let the sadness overtake him would sink into the swamp.” This is exactly what happens to Artax, Atreyu’s fabled steed and lifelong companion.
This scene killed me as a child. Apparently, it murdered a whole generation of children, according to Twitter. It’s the Neverending Meme, and the one thing in common with everyone’s tweets is that after all these years and rewatches, everything still hurts. Atreyu’s desperate pleas for Artax to move forever haunts, and the lingering shot of the hole where Artax used to be is not a wound time can heal.
And since I’m Speculative Chic’s resident anime nerd, I’d be remiss to not mention one of the most memorable tragedies in Japanese animation. It’s a two-fer because it’s part of the same story arc, where one trauma builds on the other. I’m talking about Fullmetal Alchemist, the original series that debuted in 2003. Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood from 2008 is still my favorite of the two, but there’s something about the acting and dialogue in the first iteration of the series that really lingers with me. The first time I watched the show was with the incredibly talented English dub cast, to which I’m referring here.
The sadness starts with alchemist Shou Tucker, who uses the magic of transmutation on his four-year-old daughter Nina to manufacture a living chimera. He has literally spliced Nina with her pet dog Alexander, all for the purpose of retaining his formal license as an alchemist. Edward Elric, along with his brother Alphonse, discovers Nina in her disturbing new form, and one of the first things she says is “Edward…why does it hurt here?” The delivery of that line, along with the vocal distortion of her voice, is a perfect, lethal combination that breaks my heart every time.
Shortly after that nightmarish episode, things continue to get worse for the Elric brothers with the encounter with the serial killer known as Barry the Chopper. This is immediately after the alchemist killer Scar has murdered chimera-Nina and her father. Ed and Al haven’t had time to process or grieve, and then Barry kidnaps Winry and attacks Ed when he comes to her rescue. Until these heavy situations, Ed never really understood the forces they were up against in terms of danger — how they can die at any time, and how little power they have in this world.
This monologue clinches it. Ed and Winry have just been rescued from Barry; the military police are everywhere, and Edward realizes how small he truly is. He finally brings himself to verbalize his feelings, and it’s a clear, sad, closure to what happened with Nina.
This scene is heartwrenching; the acting and animated emotion is so powerful; and the soundtrack (the song is called”Kyoudai” [兄弟], or “Brothers”) is also memorable and beautiful…so much that I learned by ear how to play it on my harp. *sigh* Just the layers of back-to-back tragedies make this one of the saddest scenes in anime.
Pardon me while I climb under my blankets and sob.
Nicole Taft: I know at least one person in here is going to talk about Artax, so I won’t, even though he will always be pretty dang high on the list. Instead I’m here for a dog and a hobbit.
Patrick Ness’s The Knife of Never Letting Go sounded interesting. Interesting enough for me to read it. In the book, a boy named Todd lives on a planet where all the men can hear one another’s thoughts as well as the thoughts of animals, such as Todd’s dog, Manchee. Manchee has typical dog thoughts with a lot of repetition that sort of spout out like nonstop tickertape. But hey, he’s a dog, what do you want?
The HORRIBLE part of this book is when a man named Aaron, who has been attacking Todd throughout the book, gets hold of Manchee. In their attempts to escape, Todd winds up on a raft and Manchee is left behind on shore. As Todd floats away, Manchee is distraught (and I’m already crying again writing about this), yelling out Todd’s name in worry and confusion because he doesn’t understand why his boy is leaving him. And then Aaron breaks Manchee’s neck and he dies with a scared yelp. I hate it. I hate it so much and I cannot express how pissed off I was at this book, especially when it came down to killing Aaron, Todd wouldn’t do it and his companion Viola had to. I legitimately threw the book across the room. I had to go take a walk. I was so mad at this book that I refused to read the other two and I will hold true to that promise until the day I die. You killed a dog, Ness, and you couldn’t even have Todd be angry enough to kill Aaron back. I wanted to give Viola a fucking trophy.
The other moment that turned me into a blubbering mess was the end of The Lord of the Rings film trilogy. It was partly that a massive journey I’d been on was over (far more than just reading the book, but that’s a whole other story), but mostly because Frodo was so broken. He’d been through so much and he and Sam were more than friends or brothers because of what they’d experienced together, and he never fully recovered from it all. Not like the other hobbits seemed to. I like to think that maybe he found some peace with the elves on the other side of the sea. It’s why I cry so much at the end of the movie even though I really don’t like Elijah Wood as Frodo, but the song “Into the West” by Annie Lennox just does me in (as does Billy Boyd singing “The Last Goodbye” because it’s truly the end of all things). But poor Frodo. The little hobbit that did so much.
Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go find some tissues because I am a MESS.
Sherry Peters: For me, the moment in spec fic that breaks my heart is the scene in The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, where Merry is on the back of the horse with Eowyn, and they are at a stand-still on the fields of Pelenor. King Theoden is giving his rallying cry,
Arise! Arise, Riders of Theoden! Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered! A sword day… a red day… ere the sun rises! Ride now!… Ride now!… Ride! Ride to ruin and the world’s ending!
Merry, sweet Merry, who loves to laugh, sing his drinking songs, light up Gandalf’s fireworks, is facing the massive army of orcs. The Rohirim are badly outnumbered. There is no hope. They know they have come on a suicide mission in an attempt to aide Gondor. Sweet, gentle Merry, who is always hungry (as Hobbits are), has been the epitome of bravery, guiding Treebeard to Isengard to fight Saruman, he’s disguised himself now, to ride into battle in a desperate hope to help his friend, to give Frodo any hope of destroying the One Ring.
It’s supposed to be inspiring, but it breaks my heart. It breaks my heart because Merry shouldn’t be there. He shouldn’t have to witness such horrors. There shouldn’t be such darkness in the world, and yet there is, and it is the sweet ones, like Merry, who end up the bravest of us all, willing to sacrifice themselves so that the rest of us can have a chance.
So many tears, so little time. If you want to jump on the pity party, leave comments below — what broke your heart, and what made you mist up? What did we criminally overlook in our soblist above, or did we hit the mark? We’d love to hear from you, and we’ll see you next month with another Roundtable!
I’ve wanted to read The Knife of of Never Letting Go, mostly because I like the title, but now I’m not sure. I really can’t handle it when the dog dies. Even though I couldn’t finish the The Lord of the Rings books, the movies make me terribly nostalgic. Partially because they were the big movie events of my college years and partially because they’re so epic and emotional.
Nicole, I had the same reaction as you with The Knife of Never Letting Go. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to throw that book across the room, and while I finished it, like you, I have absolutely no desire to read the rest of the trilogy. And what a testament to Ness’ writing: he was TOO EFFECTIVE that I don’t trust him with my emotions any more!
But if you want a good cry, check out the film A Monster Calls, which was adapted from a Patrick Ness book of the same name. It’s a different kind of gut punch, but it’s worth it.