A Perfect Ending 2012: Why This Forgotten Indie Dramedy Still Hits Hard

A Perfect Ending 2012: Why This Forgotten Indie Dramedy Still Hits Hard

Movies usually try too hard. You know the ones—big budgets, sweeping orchestral scores, and actors clearly fishing for an Oscar. But then you have a movie like A Perfect Ending 2012, directed by Nicole Conn. It didn't have a blockbuster budget. It didn't have a massive marketing machine. What it had was Barbara Niven and Jessica Clark, and a premise that felt deeply uncomfortable and incredibly human at the same time.

It’s been over a decade since it hit the festival circuit and DVD shelves. Honestly, it’s a bit of a miracle it stayed in the public consciousness at all. In the world of queer cinema, things move fast. Trends change. Yet, people are still searching for it. They’re still talking about that final act.

Why? Because it wasn't just a romance. It was a study on repressed grief, the stifling nature of high-society expectations, and what happens when a person realizes they’ve spent fifty years living someone else’s life.

The Setup You Think You Know (But Don’t)

Rebecca Westridge has a problem. Well, she has many, but the one she can name is that she’s never had an orgasm. She’s wealthy, married to a stiff, judgmental man named Mason, and has three adult children who are varying degrees of a mess. She lives in a house that looks more like a museum than a home. Everything is white, cold, and perfectly placed.

Her friends, in an attempt to "help," suggest she hire a high-end call girl. Enter Paris.

Paris isn't your cliché movie sex worker. She’s an artist. She’s cynical. She’s younger, vibrant, and has zero patience for Rebecca’s neuroses. When they first meet, it’s awkward. It’s painful to watch. Rebecca is terrified of being touched, let alone seen. But Nicole Conn, who also wrote the script, does something smart here. She doesn't rush the physical stuff. Most of A Perfect Ending 2012 is actually about the space between two people who shouldn't have anything in common.

The film spends a lot of time on the dialogue. Sometimes it’s a bit flowery, sure. But in the context of Rebecca’s repressed world, that theatricality makes sense. She’s a woman who has lived her life through metaphors because the reality of her marriage was too bleak to face.

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Breaking Down the Chemistry of Barbara Niven and Jessica Clark

Let's talk about Barbara Niven. She’s a veteran. You’ve seen her in Hallmark movies and soaps. In this film, she does something brave. She plays a woman who is essentially "unfolding." There’s a scene where she’s looking at herself in the mirror, and you can see the decades of performance falling off her face. It’s raw.

Then you have Jessica Clark as Paris. Clark was a model before this, and while she’s stunning, she brings a grounded, almost weary energy to Paris. She isn't there to be a "Manic Pixie Dream Girl" for an older woman. She’s doing a job, until she isn't.

The chemistry works because it’s built on tension. It’s the tension of Rebecca’s "perfect" life versus Paris’s honest one. When they finally connect, it isn't just about the physical act. It’s about Rebecca finally being "known." In her marriage, she was a trophy or a caretaker. With Paris, she’s just Rebecca. That’s a powerful thing to capture on film, especially with the limited resources of an indie production.

The Subplot Problem

If we're being honest, not everything in the movie is perfect. The subplots involving Rebecca’s children—specifically her son and daughter—can feel a bit like a soap opera. There’s a lot of yelling. There’s a lot of "I hate you, Mom!" energy that feels a bit disconnected from the quiet, intimate scenes between the two leads.

However, these scenes serve a purpose. They show the collateral damage of a loveless marriage. They show that while Rebecca was suffering in silence, her children were absorbing that toxicity. It makes her eventual "awakening" feel more urgent. She isn't just saving herself; she’s trying to break a cycle, even if it’s late in the game.

The Ending: Why People Are Still Debating It

We have to talk about the title. A Perfect Ending 2012 is a bit of a trick. Without spoiling the very last frame for the three people who haven't seen it, the movie deals with a major health revelation.

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Some critics at the time felt this was a "cheap" way to add drama. They called it "manipulative." I disagree.

Life is manipulative. People find out they’re sick right when they finally start living. It happens. By introducing a terminal element, the film heightens the stakes. It asks: Is a few weeks of true honesty worth more than fifty years of a lie? The movie argues that yes, it is.

The "ending" in the title refers to the closing of a chapter, the end of a facade, and the literal end of a life. It’s bittersweet. It’s the kind of ending that makes you want to call your therapist or your ex, or maybe both. It sticks in your ribs because it refuses to give you the easy, "they lived happily ever after in a cottage" trope that most romance fans crave.

Production Context and the Nicole Conn Signature

Nicole Conn is a staple in LGBTQ+ cinema. If you haven't seen Elena Undone, you should. She has a very specific style. Slow-motion shots. Lens flares. A focus on the female gaze.

In A Perfect Ending 2012, she uses these techniques to romanticize Rebecca’s journey. The film was partially crowdfunded and supported by a dedicated fanbase. This is important because it allowed Conn to make the movie she wanted without a studio telling her to tone down the age gap or the explicit nature of the intimacy.

It was shot mostly in Los Angeles, and you can tell. The light has that specific California gold hue. The production design by Reva Aloni does a lot of heavy lifting here. Rebecca’s house is a character. It’s cold. It’s sterile. When Paris enters it, she’s like a splash of paint on a white canvas.

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What Most People Get Wrong About the Movie

There’s this misconception that this is just "mom porn." That’s a lazy take.

While the film is famous for its intimate scenes—which are handled with a lot of grace—it’s actually a movie about trauma. Rebecca mentions a "dark secret" from her past, a trauma involving her own family. This secret is the reason she’s been "frozen" for her entire adult life.

The film is about the thaw. It’s about the messy, painful process of a human being coming back to life. If you watch it just for the romance, you’re missing the point. You’re missing the tragedy of a woman who was told her entire life that her pleasure, her voice, and her identity didn't matter.

The Legacy of the Film

Today, we see more representation of older women in film, but in 2012? It was rare. Especially in the queer community, where the focus is so often on the "coming out" story of a twenty-something.

A Perfect Ending 2012 gave a voice to the "late bloomers." It told women in their 50s and 60s that it wasn't too late to figure out who they were. That’s why it still ranks. That’s why the "A Perfect Ending 2012" keyword still pops up in search engines. It filled a void that Hollywood still largely ignores.


Actionable Takeaways for Fans and New Viewers

If you’re planning to watch or re-watch this film, or if you’re looking for similar storytelling, keep these points in mind:

  • Look past the melodrama: Focus on the non-verbal cues between Niven and Clark. The way Rebecca holds her breath is a masterclass in physical acting.
  • Contextualize the "Twist": Understand that the ending is meant to be a commentary on the "perfect" life Rebecca was forced to lead. It’s an irony, not just a plot point.
  • Explore the Genre: If you liked the tone, look into other Nicole Conn films like Elena Undone or More Beautiful for Having Been Broken. She has a consistent thematic thread of healing through connection.
  • Check the Soundtrack: The music, featuring artists like Mary Lambert and Cas Haley, is actually quite good and helps ground the more theatrical moments of the film.
  • Watch the Director's Cut: If you can find it, the behind-the-scenes material explains a lot about the filming process and the challenges of shooting an indie film with such an ambitious emotional scope.

The movie isn't a masterpiece of technical filmmaking, but it is a masterpiece of emotional resonance. It reminds us that "perfection" is a cage, and the only way out is to be brave enough to be flawed. That’s the real perfect ending.