DONNIE DARKO Finally Explained: What is Real?
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had
A simple explanation, the key to which would be Roberta Sparrow’s book—Grandma Death titled Philosophy of Time Travel—satisfies curiosity only momentarily. A closer analysis reveals a series of inconsistencies, and inconsistencies give rise to more questions. Suddenly, it turns out this story is closer to human spirituality than to fluid puzzles about interdimensional travel. Indeed, Philosophy of Time Travel is merely a pretext—a smokescreen, or even a mockery. Absorbed in analyzing how the fantasies of former nun Roberta Sparrow translate into the reality of Donnie Darko and his surroundings, we suddenly realize that a very human and very ordinary drama is slipping away from us.
In several interviews given on the mystery of Donnie Darko, Richard Kelly toys with offering different clues. One of them suggests that the entire film is Donnie’s dream—the waking world includes only a few initial scenes (dinner with the family, a tense exchange with his mother) and the final sequence, when our hero’s room is crushed by a jet engine.
Three elements would point to this: a decidedly gentler and more sympathetic portrayal of Donnie in the later part of the film (i.e., in the dream) than in real life at the beginning (where he seems sullen and grumpy); the use of pills (whose side effects may be calming and sleep-inducing); and the awakening scene, where Donnie laughs to himself, recalling his dream and his sense of power, control over time (after which he falls asleep again, never to wake up). In other words, Donnie’s dream, beginning with a prophecy (the falling engine), is a record of an alternate version of events that would have occurred if he had been out of his room at the time of the accident.
Another possible solution is the vision outlined by Roberta Sparrow in her fantastical scientific treatise on time travel. According to this concept, the action takes place simultaneously in two parallel dimensions: the Primary Universe and the Tangent Universe. The Tangent Universe emerges when the balance between dimensions is disrupted. It is unstable and self-destructs within a few weeks, risking the annihilation of other dimensions as well. The physical manifestation of the Tangent Universe’s formation is the so-called Artifact, usually made of metal, whose appearance is unclear and associated with divine intervention (in this case, the airplane engine).
The task of the person called the Living Receiver by Sparrow (in this case, Donnie) is to send the Artifact back to the Primary Universe. The Receiver is a person of extraordinary power, endowed with psychic abilities. Their environment, consisting of the so-called Manipulated (Living and Dead), fears the Receiver and hinders their task. The Dead Manipulated in this case would be the Rabbit—Frank, communicating with Donnie from an alternate reality through a water portal.
And here the questions arise. Did Donnie complete his task, and for what reason did he do so? Roberta Sparrow’s apocalyptic vision lacks purpose: at the end, we only hear the statement that we were told it happened for a reason. But what is that reason—we do not know. Grandma Death also doesn’t mention a higher Cause, though such a one must evidently exist—all the characters in the drama play secondary roles. The term Receiver indicates an executor, and similarly for the manipulated—but by what, by whom?
Furthermore, is the enigmatic Rabbit and the teenager Frank in the rabbit costume, responsible for Gretchen’s death, truly the same person? And if so, could his actions from the alternate reality not be manipulation but an attempt at redemption? A paradoxical one, as its fulfillment requires Donnie to make a choice that in every scenario condemns him to the worst outcome.
The Tangent Universe collapses into a black hole, and Donnie Darko has a few final seconds to make a decision. At the same time, in the same situation, but in the Primary Universe, the same Donnie Darko has no opportunity to make that choice. One of them is aware of the impending doom. The other is not. Both, however, suffer. Donnie makes his choice. He chooses his own death. The Tangent Universe collapses, and the Primary Universe resets along the second path—the one it would have followed if the Rabbit had not lured Donnie out of his room. In this world, Gretchen lives, Jim Cunningham is not exposed, and the promise made to Charita is fulfilled. This is the better world. The Rabbit revealed the truth to Donnie—that everyone dies alone. Donnie, however, believed that destruction is a form of creation. The final tragedy is the convergence of both these beliefs and full proof of their validity.
The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.
This choice, which Donnie was forced to make—between accepting the inevitability of total annihilation and self-destruction to prevent it—makes Donnie Darko a deeply grim, depressing picture. The sadness of unfulfillment, the sacrifice of love that no one knows about and no one will appreciate, a girl to whom someone, suddenly a stranger and yet close, gave more life—choosing a fate in which he is nothing to her. And perhaps just a sliver of comfort in the final scene, when Donnie’s mother and Gretchen exchange a sad greeting, feeling some fleeting connection, some incomprehensible bond. This is the echo of the dream Roberta Sparrow writes about in the final chapter of her book.
There is yet a third possibility: Donnie’s visions during the film are indeed the hallucinations of a schizophrenic mind. The dream—or perhaps, rather, a fantasy or an imagination—would then be the final sequence, not the first. Donnie, tormented by grief over the loss of Gretchen, considers how the situation would have changed if he had indeed been crushed during the accident. The plane crash and the emerging black hole would, in this context, have symbolic significance: the collapse of the world after the death of a loved one.
Yet Donnie Darko also finds room for satire. The grotesque character of the teacher devoted to Jim Cunningham’s idiotic ideas (conquer fear! choose love!) is a jab at the rigidity of education, ignorance, backwardness, the confinement within a cycle of worn-out clichés. However, such people still float on the surface, while individualists—like Donnie—are rejected as dangerous, and progressive educators like the literature teacher, representing a fresh breeze, a new quality, must leave because they bring unwanted subversion. The slick pretense of Jim Cunningham is valued more than genuine emotions and honesty. Content is irrelevant as long as it is wrapped in appropriately aesthetic packaging. A mad world.
The enigma of Donnie Darko is an enjoyable mental exercise, especially since it’s difficult to pinpoint a single correct solution. In essence, however, the most important aspect of this film is the portrait of a person and their dramatic choice. The illusory comfort of turning back time—who among us hasn’t dreamed of that at least once? But fate must be fulfilled one way or another. The balance sheet must be even. What will you choose? And could you make the choice?