soul (2020): Ending Explained

Quick Recap

In Soul (2020), directed by Pete Docter and co-directed by Kemp Powers, we follow Joe Gardner, a passionate middle school music teacher in New York City whose true calling is jazz piano. Voiced by Jamie Foxx, Joe has spent his life chasing the dream of professional jazz stardom, gigging on the side while teaching to make ends meet. His mother, Libba (voiced by Phylicia Rashad), urges him to take a stable full-time teaching job, but fate intervenes when legendary jazz musician Dorothea Williams (Angela Bassett) invites him to join her quartet for a big gig. On the day of his breakthrough, however, Joe meets with an untimely accident—falling into an open manhole—and slips into a coma, his soul detaching from his body.

What follows is a metaphysical journey into the afterlife realms. Joe's soul hurtles toward the "Great Beyond," a cosmic conveyor belt leading to whatever comes next, but in his desperation to return for his dream gig, he veers off course into the "Great Before" (also called the You Seminar). This ethereal nursery is where new souls develop personalities, quirks, and sparks before descending to Earth. Here, Joe encounters a cadre of counselors named Jerry and a cynical, world-weary soul known as 22 (Tina Fey), who has resisted finding her "spark" for eons, hoarding personality traits without committing to life. Mistaken for a mentor, Joe reluctantly guides 22, all while scheming to escape back to his body. Through a series of misadventures blending humor, philosophy, and jazz-infused wonder, Joe begins to question whether his singular obsession with jazz has blinded him to the richness of living.

What Happens in the Ending

The film's climax builds as Joe finally helps 22 discover her spark—not through grand ambition, but in the simple joys of existence, like savoring pizza or feeling the wind. With her badge now complete, 22 earns her Earth ticket, but Joe, still fixated on his gig, swaps souls with her in a desperate bid to return. He awakens in his body just in time for the performance, nailing the set with Dorothea Williams to thunderous applause. Yet, as the high fades, Joe realizes something's off: 22 is now trapped in his old life, wandering the streets in confusion.

Rushing back to the astral plane, Joe locates 22 in the Great Before, where she's despondent, rejecting Earth's chaos after glimpsing its messiness through his eyes. In a poignant reversal, Joe convinces her of life's worth—not as a pursuit of dreams, but as an embrace of the ordinary. He relinquishes his chance at permanence, guiding 22 to the Great Beyond's light instead. As 22 ascends, Joe finds himself back on the manhole ledge, offered a final choice by the Jerrys: return to his body or let go. Choosing life anew, Joe tumbles back into his comatose form, waking in the hospital surrounded by loved ones. The story closes on Joe, months later, teaching his students with renewed vigor, jamming casually with friends at a barbershop, and spotting 22—now a vibrant young woman—living her own unscripted life across the city, their paths crossing in a moment of quiet recognition.

The Meaning Behind the Ending

At its core, the ending of Soul transcends a simple return-to-life tale, delving into profound questions about purpose, mortality, and the essence of fulfillment. Joe's initial death-by-manhole serves as a literal and metaphorical pitfall, yanking him from his myopic chase of jazz glory into a broader cosmic perspective. The swap with 22 symbolizes the fluidity of identity and experience; by inhabiting each other's worlds, they confront the illusion of control over one's path. When Joe performs flawlessly but feels hollow, it underscores the theme that achievement without presence is empty—a jazz solo without soul, if you will.

The Jerrys' final counsel, emphasizing that life's "spark" isn't a singular passion but the quiet accumulation of moments, reframes existence as a mosaic rather than a solo act. 22's ascent isn't defeat but liberation, representing the moral complexity of letting go: death as a gentle transition, not punishment. For Joe, returning means shedding entitlement to his "big break," embracing the human truth that joy lies in the interstitials—teaching a kid's first note, sharing a laugh with family. This ending critiques societal pressures on Black men like Joe, who face dual burdens of artistic pursuit and stability, commenting subtly on how dreams can become shackles when they eclipse living.

Character Arcs and Resolution

Joe's arc is the film's emotional spine, evolving from a restless dreamer fixated on "making it" to a man who integrates his passions into a fuller life. His psychology shifts from denial—bargaining with the afterlife to cling to jazz—to acceptance, recognizing that his soul's "purpose" was never just the piano but the connections it fosters. By the end, his resolution isn't triumphant stardom but grounded contentment: teaching full-time while playing for joy, honoring his mother's wisdom and his own growth. This moral complexity highlights the internal conflict of ambition versus presence, resolving in a way that feels earned, not saccharine.

22, the eternal skeptic, arcs from detachment to tentative embrace, her spark igniting not in grand gestures but mundane sensations. Voiced with Fey's sharp wit masking vulnerability, 22 embodies the fear of vulnerability; her resolution—stepping into life as herself—mirrors Joe's, affirming that souls aren't predefined but shaped by willingness to engage. Their intertwined journeys resolve in mutual sacrifice: Joe gives up his dream's immediacy for 22's chance at being, and she, in turn, teaches him that soul is found in the "in-between," closing their arcs with quiet interdependence.

Alternate Interpretations

While Soul's ending appears resolute, its dreamlike ambiguity invites multiple lenses. One reading sees Joe's return as a second chance granted by cosmic benevolence, implying the afterlife's Jerrys as impartial arbiters who reward selflessness—almost a karmic reset. Yet, a more skeptical view posits the entire astral odyssey as Joe's coma-induced hallucination, a psychological coping mechanism where 22 represents his inner child or suppressed doubts about his path. The final glimpse of 22 on Earth could then be projection, questioning if "soul" is external reality or internal construct.

Another interpretation flips the moral: Is Joe's choice truly selfless, or a dodge of true oblivion? By sending 22 ahead, he prioritizes his survival, subtly subverting the film's anti-ego message. This ambiguity adds depth, allowing viewers to debate whether the ending affirms life's sanctity or exposes the human drive to persist, even at others' expense.

Themes and Symbolism

The ending reinforces Soul's central themes of purpose beyond passion and the sanctity of the everyday, subverting the American Dream's hustle narrative—especially resonant for Joe's Black experience, where systemic barriers amplify personal stakes. Jazz itself symbolizes improvisational life: structured yet free, much like the film's score blending Jon Batiste's vibrant originals with Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross's ethereal tones. The Great Before's badges metaphorically critique determinism, suggesting personalities aren't fixed but emergent, challenging societal boxes of success.

Symbolically, the manhole recurs as a portal to self-reckoning, while the "spark" evolves from literal badge-filler to intangible essence—pizza bites evoking how small truths ground us. The ending subverts afterlife tropes, portraying death not as endpoint but continuum, commenting on mortality's role in sharpening life's urgency. Amid racial undertones, Joe's journey subtly nods to cultural resilience, where "soul" evokes both musical genre and spiritual depth in Black heritage.

Final Thoughts

Soul's ending works masterfully because it resists pat resolution, opting for contemplative nuance that lingers like a fading piano chord. By prioritizing thematic depth over spectacle, it invites audiences to reflect on their own sparks—those overlooked moments that compose a meaningful life. For a Pixar film, this moral complexity elevates it beyond family fare, offering substantive commentary on ambition's pitfalls and living's quiet profundity. It's not flawless; the ambiguity might frustrate those craving closure, but that's its strength—mirroring life's unresolved jazz riff. In a year shadowed by loss, Soul reminds us that true soul emerges not in chasing horizons, but in savoring the path, making its close a thoughtful balm for the human spirit.