The Ending of ‘Taxi Driver’ Is Worse Than I Remembered

How the 1976 classic connects to modern masculinity issues

Columbia Pictures

This article contains spoilers for the 1976 film Taxi Driver.

I recently rewatched Taxi Driver and we need to talk about how distressingly prescient it is, and how disturbing its ending is. But first, let’s correct some terminology.

We will not be using the word “incel”. It’s a badge that’s been embraced by the people who wear it and, let’s be honest, it sounds kinda cool. That will not do. They don’t deserve such cred. We will instead go with a phrase coined by Marc Maron: unfuckable hate nerds. Or UHNs for short. We also have to rename the manosphere and the jackass influencers who profit off it. Henceforth, they will be called the loser-sphere, and the loser-sphere grifters.

OK. Now onto the subject at hand.

I recently re-watched Taxi Driver after listening to an excellent episode of the podcast *What Went Wrong. *I begrudgingly note the film deserves its reputation as a classic. Written by Paul Schrader, directed by Martin Scorsese and starring Robert De Niro, it tells the story of an NYC cab driver who despises the city and the “scum” who inhabit it, and eventually becomes insane and violent. Along the way, he stalks and harasses a political campaign worker — the luminous Betsy, played by Cybill Shepherd. And he fixates on saving a young sex worker named Iris, played by a 12-year-old Jodie Foster.

The ending shocked me.

Right now you might be thinking about the ending where De Niro’s Travis Bickle, armed to the teeth and moving like a machine, embarks on a failed assassination, then goes on a murder spree to save Iris and is ultimately taken down.

Columbia Pictures

But that is not actually the ending. There is a sequence that follows. Did you forget about it? I had, and apparently I’m not the only one. In my readings, including this excellent Ringer piece, I found there were others who’d had the same disorienting experience of realizing Taxi Driver does not end when you think it does.

The closing sequence finds Travis doing great. He still has his cabbie job. He has pals (kind of). He was deemed a hero in the newspapers. He receives a letter of gratitude from the parents of Iris; as it turns out, his plan to save her worked — she is back home and safe. And, in the wildest segment of this disorienting coda, the goddess Betsy gets into his cab and appears to be attracted to him, or at least intrigued. But Travis, because he’s so cool now, doesn’t act on it; he simply lets her skip out on the fare.

As Rolling Stone music critic Greil Marcus wrote about Bob Dylan’s Self Portrait album: “What is this shit?”

Is It a Dream?

There has been speculation that this closing is a dream sequence, a fantasy in Travis’ head. Both Schrader and Scorsese have denied this. I wish they hadn’t. I really wish Travis just bled out on that mattress. Roll credits.

Because the ending being real, while sadly plausible, is too awful. It tells us that a violent, unstable man can stumble into heroism and fame. And I fear it may feel validating to some UHNs and would-be UHNs with twisted aspirations.

The movie is strikingly prescient. It examined male isolation and rejection, and its dangerous effects, 50 years ago, long before the internet and the birth of the loser-sphere. As we know, things have only gotten worse. It’s distinctly possible Travis would be a UHN today, posting his rage on Reddit rather than in his journal. He would find his “people” on-line — would feel part of a community — and would be taught to loathe Betsy and direct all his rage at her.

Another scene in Taxi Driver I’d forgotten but really stood out now was when Travis seeks help from his co-worker Wizard, played by a perfectly cast Peter Boyle. Travis confesses he’s been having a hard time, that he’s having bad thoughts. Wizard is the de facto leader of the cabbies who hang out together, so Travis thinks he might have some good advice for him. Spoiler alert — he doesn’t.

Wizard blathers about how people become their jobs, and we all have it rough sometimes and concludes with, “I envy you your youth. Go out and get laid, get drunk, you know, do anything.” Travis says, “that’s about the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard” and he’s correct. Wizard replies with — hey what do you want from me, I’m just a cabbie.

Columbia Pictures

It’s frustrating. Travis made an effort towards connection. Male intimacy. A real conversation with another man who might understand him. It could have been a pivotal moment that began his healing. But it completely flops.

He should have kept trying, reached out to others. Instead, he gives up. Travis decides he is on his own. There is nothing for him in the real world. It’s just him, his journal, his hateful thoughts and his guns. Much of the analysis of Taxi Driver, as well as discussion of the current epidemic of toxic male rage, has sympathy for Travis and the UHNs.

That’s probably the right approach. Seek to understand. Respond with love, not hate, because hate breeds hate. Here’s a decent article that makes the case.

But that’s not the mood I’m in.

Turning Boys into Monsters

Fuck the loser-sphere. It turns sad boys into misogynistic monsters and endangers women. It is a massive step backwards in our evolution as a species. I recently read/watched this excellent piece from The Guardian, about the loser-sphere. It shows that a primary message of the loser-sphere grifters is essentially: Take Action! Be the best version of yourself! Shape your world! You can do it!

What these dipshits really mean by this is: Keep watching my videos! Share them! Buy my on-line courses! Give me more money! Oh, and don’t forget to blame women for your problems. And so we have UHNs watching and sharing this inane nonsense for hours on end, somehow thinking wealth and babes will soon come pouring in.

Dear UHNs: At the risk of saying the most obvious thing in the world, follow your guru’s advice, but not in the way you have been. Actually get out there. Sign up for activities in the real world, things you enjoy doing. Be with humans, face to face. An online community is not a community. Yours especially. It’s a gaggle of idiots. You won’t get laid there.

And whatever you do, do not turn your frustrations into vile misogyny. Maybe you’re awkward. Maybe you’re lonely. So be it. Your fate is in your hands. The grifter you worship was right about that, but wrong about everything else. Turn him off and get outside.

Back to Taxi Driver. That damn ending.

I see where the creators are coming from. This is a dystopia of sorts. Not only do we have a psychopath roaming New York in his cab, we live in a world that will lionize, empower and encourage him. So we are meant to leave the film feeling uncomfortable, knowing that Travis will blow again; and next time his victims might not be asshole pimps, but innocents.

It’s sadly accurate. Inexplicably, 50 years later, we continue to reward toxic men, so I really prefer the theory that the ending is a fantasy sequence in Travis’ head. There is a case to be made — it is filmed with a dream-like quality, and the events that transpire feel too good (for Travis) to be true.

OK, it’s plausible that newspapers would give Travis some positive headlines for his vigilantism. After all, his targets (this time) did kinda deserve it. And it is conceivable that Iris, after such a harrowing experience, might just pack it in and head back home.

But Cybill Shepherd’s Betsy getting into Travis’s cab and looking at him like that? Seemingly drawn to him? Come on. I don’t buy it. This is a woman who saw Travis up close and recognized something was off. She was smart, independent and confident enough to reject him long before he fully spiraled. His rampage would simply reinforce that he is someone to stay far away from.

Columbia Pictures

To me, that’s the strongest evidence that we’re no longer watching reality. So let’s all agree the ending is fantasy, shall we?

Because right now there is some UHN sitting down to watch Taxi Driver. And he is vulnerable enough to fall for the dumbest shit. And he’s going to see that ending and think, “aha! That’s the key to getting the attention of the beautiful woman who won’t talk to me, or at least to become famous.”

It’s a fantasy sequence, UHN — Travis is anonymous and in jail, where he belongs. He’s a nothing. Move on.