Esmail delicately delves into a twisted hypothesis that could serve as a somber yet humorous denouement for "Mr. Robot": Imagine if Elliot's entire existence were merely the whimsical musings of an otherwise unremarkable individual. The scene where Elliot confronts his doppelgänger in the apartment stands as Esmail's subtle nod to meta-commentary on television screenwriting. The alternate Elliot, a composed extrovert thriving in both professional and personal realms, occasionally dreams of embodying a superhero—by day, a cybersecurity expert; by night, a vigilante hacker. Such a life sounds far more exhilarating than his mundane reality. Yet, when pressed, he harbors no desire to inhabit that persona. That alter ego is consumed by rage, devoid of a personal life, isolated, and far from ordinary. Witnessing Elliot receive this revelation is both heart-wrenching and darkly amusing. Elliot yearns desperately to swap places with this other version, to dwell in such a vibrant world, only to discover that his entire existence has been a tedious daydream of that very same individual. Oh, the bittersweet irony!
Just as fate would have it, the universe presents Elliot with the chance to assume his alternate self's identity. Another earthquake tremor strikes, an occurrence necessitated by the realm's inability to sustain two Elliots. The alternate Elliot slams his head against the counter, bleeding profusely onto the floor. Meanwhile, our Elliot receives a call from alternate Angela, lauding his considerate gift and eagerly anticipating their impending wedding. Elliot attempts to explain the bizarre turn of events, but Angela urges him to embrace happiness for once, to cease overthinking and to seize a fresh start. In a moment of clarity, Elliot silences the alternate Elliot, realizing he was still breathing and pleading for assistance. He saw no other viable option.
However, in part two, Elliot comes to understand that this mythical realm is not the creation of Whiterose, but his own. Mr. Robot reappears, making one final attempt to jolt some sense into Elliot. He endeavors to make him comprehend that terminating this parallel Elliot and assuming his role is neither morally just nor practically feasible. Yet, Elliot accusations fly, claiming Mr. Robot is exploiting their codependency and thwarting his chance at happiness. It isn't until he arrives at Coney Island for his wedding party photos that the truth dawns upon him: there is no wedding party. Instead, it is populated by individuals donning fsociety masks. There is no wedding. None of Elliot's experiences in this fleeting tenure in this world holds any semblance of reality. Mr. Robot softly elucidates that it is merely a recursive fantasy loop crafted to "keep him occupied." But whom does "him" refer to?
Well, it transpires that the Elliot we have come to know and cherish is but a facade; the genuine Elliot Alderson has never been the protagonist of our narrative, merely another facet of his Dissociative Identity Disorder. Esmail masterfully interweaves two distinct rationales for this revelation—a concise elaboration from Mr. Robot and a far more elaborate one from Krista, or perhaps a composite of Krista crafted by his other personalities. While one might construe this as a superfluous creative indulgence, it ultimately proves to be an indispensable explication. Evidently, Esmail acknowledges the need to substantiate such a seismic shift in the show's reality, hence the plethora of interstitial sequences flashing back to the inaugural season, acting as explanatory scaffolding, the "clues" subtly planted by Esmail from the onset.
Revisiting these scenes through a different lens offers momentary amusement, yet the twist resonates less due to its seamless integration into the plot and more because of its profound emotional coherence. Elliot Alderson's DID stems from the虐待 he endured in his childhood. Consequently, he conjured multiple personas to both shield him from his traumatic past—Mr. Robot and Young Elliot—and to castigate himself for his suffering—the Mother, a persecutor, and, indeed, us, the audience, voyeurs privy to it all. Alderson forged "Our Elliot" to bear the brunt of his rawest emotions, to obscure him from his own haunting history, and to mold the world into one that could promise him a brighter future. Hence, he sequestered him within a sanctuary of illusion where happiness, a lucrative career, loving parents, and the prospect of marrying his childhood sweetheart awaited. "Our Elliot" seized the reins to navigate the harsh realities of the world and, crucially, to reshape it in anticipation of "Real Elliot's" safe return.
Yet, what transpires when relinquishing control is met with reluctance? With the Deus Group dismantled, its wealth redistributed among the populace, Whiterose and her machine vanquished, and the Washington Township nuclear catastrophe averted, "Our Elliot's" mission appears fulfilled. Nonetheless, he hesitates to let go, despite being but a fragment of the whole. When Elliot finally awakens from his fantastical reverie in the hospital, Darlene stands by his side, affirming the authenticity of his experiences while acknowledging that he is not the brother she once knew. She embraces this darker iteration of Elliot, for they have rekindled their bond and shared precious moments. Why surrender that intimacy merely because he is not the beloved figure of her past?
Ultimately, it is Darlene who propels Our Elliot into the shadows, enabling Real Elliot to burst forth from his chrysalis and take center stage. This poignant series finale weaves a metaphorical tapestry: The Elliot we've accompanied over the past half-decade serves as a transient figure, whose tenure in this world is but a fleeting moment. It's a poignant farewell, tinged with bittersweetness, yet Esmail underscores the beacon of hope that resides within Our Elliot's core. His legacy transcends mere improvement of his host personality's existence; it marks his acceptance of self as an indispensable human soul. By highlighting the formidable challenge inherent in the mantra "just be yourself," Esmail transcends its cliché. Our Elliot's closing soliloquy underscores how the world often rewards dissociation and self-effacement, using shame as a potent societal currency. Yet, true bravery manifests in embracing one's authentic self and demanding that the world accommodate us, rather than the converse.
Our Elliot, albeit a fraction of Real Elliot, was the steadfast fragment ensuring positive transformation for both him and the world. He stood guard, ensuring safety and demanding betterment. This is the reason the final scene, evoking the iconic Stargate sequence from 2001: A Space Odyssey, soars to the emotional peaks Esmail has always envisioned. Elliot steps into an empty cinema, sitting beside his alternate personalities. He urges "us" to let go, recognizing it as the sole path to progress. The camera gradually ascends, immersing itself in the flickering projector's glow. As M83's "Outro" builds to a thunderous climax, fleeting glimpses of Our Elliot's life over the past year flash before us, but they blur past too swiftly for a proper contemplation. Though these moments were once significant, they now pale in comparison to the impending journey—the endeavor of navigating the world as a fully present human, ever-struggling yet unwavering.
When the white light congeals into an iris, glistening with fresh tears, the lyrics of "Outro" echo through Elliot's past and resonate into his uncertain future:
"I reign over my realm,
Confronting storms of dust, I shall battle till eternity's end.
Dream creatures arise and waltz with me!
Now and forevermore, I am your sovereign!"
And then, in an instant, Elliot is reborn, greeted first by his sister's compassionate visage. Welcome back, Elliot. Farewell, dear friend.
