
Copycat (1995) Ending Explained – A chilling look at fear, obsession and legacy
Copycat Plot Summary
Copycat is a tense psychological thriller revolving around the capture of a sadistic serial killer prowling around LA. The movie centers on Dr. Helen Hudson (Sigourney Weaver), a renowned criminal psychologist and expert on serial killers.
Her inspiring and thought provoking talk in the middle of a student lecture hall about serial killers, leads into an unexpected and traumatic attack by deranged killer Daryll Lee Cullum (Harry Connick Jr.)
Although Helen survives this encounter, it causes her to become severely agoraphobic and she retreats into isolation.
Years later, a series of murders begin in San Francisco, mimicking the methods of infamous serial killers.
Detectives M.J. Monahan (Holly Hunter) and Reuben Goetz (Dermot Mulroney) enlist Helen's help to profile the killer – but can they do so before it's too late?
Who is the killer?
The midway point of the movie unravels the true killer, as Helen works with the police to try and find this man. Her assessment of a 20-35 year old white male rings true, as the murderer is revealed to be Peter Foley (William McNamara).
This unassuming man, who lives at home with his wife , is revealed to have a whole basement used as his 'funhouse'. For him, this spree is a twisted art project—a way to gain legacy and recognition by building on the 'work' of murderers past.
Who does the killer focus on last?
As we build toward the climax of the movie, Foley becomes fixated on Helen, using her computer to send a program that taunts her and even a video to show his latest victim. However, it soon becomes clear that he not only views her as a final target, but also someone who will truly understand what he's doing.
Foley's murders are staged with clinical precision, something we see from the various crime scenes across the movie. Each of them echo a notorious killing from history. His obsession escalates to a note left for Helen, whom he eventually kidnaps and attempts to recreate her near-death experience from years prior—symbolically tying up his murderous 'tribute.'
How does Foley cover his tracks?
While this is going on, M.J. and the police storm Foley's house when they learn of his identity.
They arrive too late. Foley's wife is dead, the house is in flames, and any evidence is lost with it, leaving the police reeling.
What happens during the showdown?
Foley takes Helen to the same university bathroom where she was attacked by Cullum, recreating the moment in horrifying detail. He ties her up with a noose around her neck, tip-toeing on the toilet basin. He intends for her to hang herself as a final symbolic kill in his copycat series.
Helen, terrified but composed, uses her knowledge of criminal psychology to stall for time and emotionally manipulate Foley. She laughs, kicks off her other shoes and buys time for Detective Monahan. She races against the clock, following the trail of clues Foley has left behind but winds up part of Foley's sick game.
How does Helen confront her fears?
Managing to escape when Foley shoots Monahan in the chest, she faces her fears and heads up onto the rooftop. She stumbles across to the edge of the rooftop, calling for help, before turning and facing down this killer.
Earlier on, she had to face Cullum at home on the computer, and she struggled to even look at the monitor. She was clearly still suffering from the effects and wanted to try and bury it.
However, speaking to Cullum, who taunts her and asks for her panties as a 'souvenir' in exchange for info, seems to help shake something inside her. She's no longer a prisoner to the fear that once defined her. Instead, she turns it into strength.
Facing this horrific ordeal again that has haunted her for the past thirteen months has made Helen stronger, and this time she laughs in the face of pure evil.
Is Foley stopped?
Monahan arrives just in time to stop the murder, shooting Foley first in the shoulder, and then several times in the chest. This is a significant moment and a beautifully foreshadowed one too.
Early in the movie, Reuben and M.J. were on a training exercise and Reuben fired wildly, shooting a target multiple times. M.J. though, shot the target once and explained this is enough to incapacitate them.
Unfortunately, this arrogance and lack of fear (something Helen also calls Monahan out for in the film) costs Reuben his life. During a skirmish involving Chinatown residents, Reuben is shot by a crazed man who holds him at gunpoint. Although Monahan shot him in the shoulder to drop him to the ground, he still shot Reuben dead.
In the ensuing confrontation, she fatally shoots Foley and makes no mistake about her shots. She fires multiple times and eventually shoots him in the head.
It's also worth noting too that Monahan is genuinely scared during this encounter, reinforcing that fear can keep you alive.
How does Copycat end?
Helen is saved, and the nightmare ends—at least for now. The experience forces Helen to confront her deepest fear and take steps, however small, toward reclaiming her autonomy.
In the film's final moments, we cut to the prison once more where we see Cullum writing a note to more of his 'disciples'. He turns and looks at the camera, hinting that Foley is just one of many foot soldiers he has at his disposal looking to take up the mantle of serial killings.
Fear, obsession, and legacy
The movie serves as a chilling portrayal of how easily disenfranchised men—especially white men aged 20–35—can lose their way and become radicalized by ideology in a desperate need to become famous.
Copycat doesn't end with comfort—it ends with a warning. The final scenes inside the prison reframe the narrative: this wasn't just one man's descent—it's part of a wider cultural sickness.
This moment not only reinforces what Helen said earlier in the lecture hall, it also warns about the pursuit of greatness—and how our culture has become obsessed with death and murderers. It's a theme that feels even more relevant today, 30 years on from the film's release.
Foley himself even mentions to Helen that more books have been written about Dahmer than Abraham Lincoln.
The movie doesn't offer any easy answers on how to solve this problem, but its final moments certainly give plenty to chew on.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Daily Mail
44 minutes ago
- Daily Mail
EXCLUSIVE 70s rock legend played by Dakota Fanning is still platinum blonde at 65... can you guess who she is?
A beloved rock singer from the 1970s was still the image of freewheeling punk style when she surfaced recently in Los Angeles. She shot to fame as a teenager as the lead singer of a girl group that came up in Los Angeles but achieved its greatest fame abroad. Her brunette bandmate developed a reputation as the 'Godmother of Punk,' performing a celebrated smash hit cover of I Love Rock 'n' Roll. Meanwhile, the blonde songstress who was sighted in sunny California this month went on to form a musical double-act with her twin sister. When a movie was eventually made about the band that propelled her to stardom, she was portrayed by none other than Dakota Fanning. During her latest sighting, now aged 65, she still had the platinum locks she sported when she first shot to fame - but can you guess who she is? The singer in question is none other than Cherie Currie, lead singer of the classic 1970s all-female rock band The Runaways. Born in the San Fernando Valley of 'Valley girl' fame, Cherie grew up on the fringes of Hollywood as the daughter of the little-known 1940s actress Marie Harmon. She and her twin sister Marie Currie were themselves working in showbiz from childhood, dancing background on American Bandstand. Cherie suffered through a traumatic childhood, during which she was allegedly raped and her mother ran off to Indonesia for the sake of a love affair. When she was 15, Cherie struck out independently of her family to become the lead singer of the new rock band The Runaways in 1975. The Runaways burst onto the scene with the single Cherry Bomb, which combined the era's rambunctious teenage rebellion with a touch of girlish coquetry as Cherie sneered: 'Hello Daddy, hello Mom, I'm your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!' Although the Runaways never became a major success at home in America, they found a more enthusiastic fanbase in Japan, as well as to a lesser extent in Europe. Now regarded as a forerunner of punk, the band included Joan Jett, who in her post-Runaways years sang a cover of I Love Rock 'n' Roll that gave it worldwide popularity. She shot to fame as a teenager as the lead singer of a girl group that came up in Los Angeles but achieved its greatest fame abroad Cherie fronted the band with fiery brio, thundering onstage in a corset and bellowing into the microphone while projecting a tempestuous persona that hinted at the turmoil brewing behind the scenes. She alleges that the band's manager Kim Fowley pitted the members against each other, and one of her bandmates Jackie Fox even claimed to have been raped by Kim while unconscious in front of Cherie and Joan, though Cherie denies seeing as much. 'All I can say,' Cherie told Pitchfork: 'is if Joan, Sandy and I saw an unconscious girl being brutally raped in front of us, we would have hit him over the head with a chair.' During her time as one of the Runaways, Cherie herself battled a galloping drug addiction, vigorously abusing cocaine and Quaaludes. At the height of her substance abuse, Cherie left the band at 17 in 1977, two years before the Runaways fell apart for good over artistic disagreements. The year the group broke up, Cherie - now long gone from the Runaways - was abducted and raped by a man who had murdered six female victims before he stalked and apprehended the rocker, according to the Guardian. She kept working after the Runaways, recoding a 1978 solo album called Beauty's Only Skin Deep and the 1980 duets album Messin' with the Boys with her twin sister. Cherie even broke into films, acting with Jodie Foster and Scott Baio in Foxes, the 1980 directorial debut of Adrian Lyne, who went on to make such memorable movies as Flashdance, Fatal Attraction, Unfaithful, 9 1/2 Weeks and Indecent Proposal. During the 1980s, she finally kicked her drug habit, and eventually became a counselor at the substance abuse wing of a Los Angeles hospital. 'I was only 25 and a lot of these kids were the age I was when I was in the Runaways when I was introduced to drugs, so it was a good fit for me,' she recalled. Cherie conquered her pain so thoroughly that when Kim Fowley was dying of bladder cancer, she took care of him, their old bad blood notwithstanding. 'With Kim in particular, I really turned that around. Instead of dealing with the anger and resentment and even the hatred I had against him, I decided that that only hurt me,' she said, noting he 'didn't' run the band 'right' but adding that he 'came from an orphanage. He had gone through polio, with no parental guidance of any kind.' Looking after him during his final decline was 'the end of a nightmare' for Cherie. 'I'm so grateful for that time. People can change. They can.' She noted: 'Without him, Joan never would have happened, Lita [Ford] and myself, so I owe him a great deal and I was very honored to take care of him towards the end of his life. I would have done it again and again, and I'm sorry that I lost him.' In more recent years, she has become a chainsaw woodcarving artist with a gallery in Chatsworth - part of her native San Fernando Valley in the Los Angeles suburbs. The legacy of her band lived on in the form of the 2010 biopic the Runaways, in which Kristen Stewart played Joan Jett and Dakota Fanning played Cherie.


Telegraph
an hour ago
- Telegraph
While his friends played sport, this 10-year-old wrote an operetta – now he's one of the greats
Samuel Barber was a genius, and a prodigy. At nine years old, he told his mother he did not want to be an athlete – the favoured outcome for upper-middle-class American boys of his generation, en route to a job in one of the professions and marriage – but, rather, a composer. Luckily, his parents agreed. The following year, 1920, he wrote an operetta. Two years later, he was a church organist. By the mid-1930s, in his 20s, despite a brief spell as a professional baritone, he was writing music that went straight into the repertoire of American orchestras, and then into concert programmes around the world. He made several visits to Europe, studying in Vienna, Turin and Rome. To his instinctive voice these studies added polish, but they did not divert Barber from his idea of music: something that spoke directly to his audience. At his death in 1981, he was one of America's, and the world's, most renowned composers. He remains famous for two works in particular: his Adagio for Strings, of 1936, developed from his string quartet of the same year; and Knoxville: Summer of 1915, for soprano and orchestra, from 1947. He has been recorded extensively: yet, as is often the case for composers celebrated for one or two popular works, many other pieces are overlooked, of which a few, in the estimation of some critics, are superior to those that are well-known. Barber came heavily under the influence of his maternal uncle, Sidney Homer Sr, far less well-known than his nephew, but regarded by the cognoscenti as one of the finest American composers of art songs. For the best part of 25 years – the formative phase of Barber's career – he studied with his uncle, and his style of composition owes much to him. Barber's writing is characterised by its lyricism, warmth and colour. As he became older, there was the occasional injection of modernism, but he was so adept at writing highly originally in traditional forms that experiments with extensive dissonance were not required. He was not afraid to seduce his listeners with beautiful tunes and phrases, but in doing so expressed nothing derivative or hackneyed. He is always an original, strong voice. The Adagio and Knoxville exemplify this. The latter is a setting of a text by James Agee, a native of Knoxville, Tennessee now recognised as one of America's most noted writers and poets of the 1930s and 1940s. The work is usually sung by a soprano but can be performed by a tenor. Its words are those of the small boy Agee was in 1915; the year before his father was killed in a car crash, and his blissful childhood came abruptly to an end. The writing is, appropriately, wistful and nostalgic, at different times warm and reflective. The work, like the Adagio, deserves its fame, and Barber was so motivated by his subject that it took him only a few days to write it. But there is so much more to Barber: two symphonies, from 1936 and 1944, the second withdrawn, revised and republished after his death; three operas, written in the 1950s and 1960s; concerti for violin, cello and piano, and an unfinished oboe concerto; much choral music and song; and much chamber music, as well as solo works for piano and organ. He showed his orchestral brilliance with his first major work: his 1931 overture to The School for Scandal, which has some echoes of his near-contemporary William Walton. Unlike Walton, Barber was no enfant terrible, and more given to introspection. This comes across in his three Essays for Orchestra, written in 1938, 1942 and 1978 respectively; and although the composer claimed that the third, composed after so long an interval, was less lyrical and more abstract than its predecessors, it bears great similarities to them. For me, the Second Essay is Barber's absolute masterpiece. It is 11 minutes long, but the composer packs so much in that, as one critic put it, it feels like a symphony. Its initial moodiness grips the listener from the start, but then the work expands into the turbulent, the majestic and the beautiful. Listeners will also suspect that every composer asked to write music for an epic Hollywood film for the next 10 or 15 years was influenced by it to some extent. There are two stunning recordings: Leonard Slatkin and the St Louis Symphony, on EMI, and Marin Alsop and the Royal Scottish National Orchestra, on Naxos. If new listeners to Barber start with this work, it is likely to lead to a musical journey of some significance.


The Guardian
an hour ago
- The Guardian
‘Our era of violent populism': the US has entered a new phase of political violence
It has been a grim couple of weeks in the US, as multiple acts of politically motivated violence have dominated headlines and sparked fears that a worrying new normal has taken hold in America. Last Saturday, a man disguised as a police officer attacked two Democratic legislators at their homes in Minnesota, killing a state representative and her husband, and wounding another lawmaker and his wife. The alleged murderer was planning further attacks, police said, on local politicians and abortion rights advocates. The same day, during national 'No Kings' demonstrations against the Trump administration, there was a spate of other violence or near-violence across the US. After a man with a rifle allegedly charged at protesters in Utah, an armed 'safety volunteer' associated with the protest fired at the man, wounding him and killing a bystander. When protesters in California surrounded a car, the driver sped over a protester's leg. And a man was arrested in Arizona after brandishing a handgun at protesters. Later in the week, a Jewish lawmaker in Ohio reported that he was 'run off the road' by a man who waved a Palestinian flag at him. Police in New York also said they were investigating anti-Muslim threats to the mayoral candidate Zohran Mamdani. The political temperature is dangerously high – and shows few signs of cooling. 'We are in a historically high period of American political violence,' Robert Pape, a political scientist at the University of Chicago, told the Guardian. 'I call it our 'era of violent populism'. It's been about 50 years since we've seen something like this. And the situation is getting worse.' He said the US is in a years-long stretch of political violence that started around the time of Donald Trump's first election, with perpetrators coming from both the right and the left. In 2017, the first year of Trump's first presidency, a leftwing activist opened fire on a group of Republican politicians and lobbyists playing baseball, wounding four people. In 2021, pro-Trump rioters attacked the US Capitol. In 2022, a conspiracy theorist attacked then-House speaker Nancy Pelosi's husband with a hammer, and a man angry about the US supreme court's rightward drift tried to assassinate justice Brett Kavanaugh. Trump survived two assassination attempts in 2024; the Pennsylvania gunman's bullet missed Trump's face by a few centimeters. The Israel-Gaza war has contributed to the tension. Last month a gunman murdered two Israeli embassy staffers in Washington DC; the alleged perpetrator, an American-born leftwing radical, described the killings as an act of solidarity with Palestinians. A couple weeks later a man in Colorado attacked a group of pro-Israel demonstrators with molotov cocktails. Pape directs the Chicago Project on Security and Threats, which studies terrorism and conflict. He noted in a recent piece in the New York Times that his research has found rising support among both left- and right-leaning Americans for the 'use of force' to achieve political means. The May survey was 'the most worrisome yet', he wrote. 'About 40 percent of Democrats supported the use of force to remove Mr. Trump from the presidency, and about 25 percent of Republicans supported the use of the military to stop protests against Mr. Trump's agenda. These numbers more than doubled since last fall, when we asked similar questions.' Americans are not only polarized, but forming into distinct and visible 'mobilized blocs', Pape says. He also notes that acts of political violence seem to be becoming 'increasingly premeditated'. Quantifying political violence or 'domestic terrorism' can be difficult, Pape said, because the FBI does not track it in a consistent manner. The best proxy, he said, is often prosecuted threats against members of Congress. Those 'have gone up dramatically, especially since the first year of Trump's first term', he said, adding that the threats have been 'essentially 50-50' against Democratic and Republican lawmakers. The US Capitol police, which protects Congress, reported in April that the number of threat assessment cases it has investigated 'has climbed for the second year in a row'. While both sides have committed violence, Jon Lewis, a research fellow at George Washington University's Program on Extremism, thinks that Republican political leaders carry more culpability for the violent climate. 'We haven't seen the mainstream political left embrace political violence in the same way,' he said. He noted that while Luigi Mangione, the man who allegedly murdered a healthcare insurance executive last year, could be considered leftwing, he was 'more of an anti-system extremist' who also hated the Democratic party. In contrast, 'when you look at the rhetoric and language being used in neo-Nazi mass shooter manifestos, it's almost identical to Stephen Miller posts', he added, referring to the White House aide. Quantifying violence is also tricky because it can be difficult to determine ideological motives or causal relations. People died during the 2020 George Floyd protests and riots, but it is not clear to what extent all of the deaths were directly related to the unrest. In 2023, a transgender shooter attacked a Christian private school in Tennessee, killing three children and three adults; while the attacker had railed against 'little crackers' with 'white privileges', investigators concluded that the attack was most motivated by a desire for notoriety. This April, someone set the Pennsylvania governor Josh Shapiro's mansion on fire while he and his family, who were unharmed, slept inside. Although Shapiro is Jewish and the alleged perpetrator made remarks condemning Israel, the suspect's family members have said that he has a long history of mental health problems. In other cases, acts of violence are ideological but don't fall on to conventional political lines. Earlier this year, a man bombed a fertility clinic in California; the suspect was an anti-natalist – or self-described 'pro-mortalist' – who was philosophically opposed to human reproduction. Pape believes that the current wave of violence and tumult is only partly a reaction to Trump's polarizing politics. 'He's as much a symptom as a cause,' he said. The more important factor is 'a period of high social change … as the US moves from a white-majority country to a white-minority country. And that's been going drip, drip, drip since the early 1970s, but around 10 years ago we started to go through the transition generation', Pape said. The closest analogue is probably the US in the 1960s and 1970s, when the civil rights movement, the hippy counterculture, the Vietnam war, and Black and Latino nationalism were accompanied by a wave of political assassinations and other violence as white supremacist groups and others harassed and killed civil rights leaders. There was also a wave of leftwing violence. Domestic terror groups such as the Symbionese Liberation Army and the Weather Underground attacked judges, police officers and government offices. In 1972, according to Bryan Burrough's 2015 book Days of Rage: America's Radical Underground, the FBI, and the Forgotten Age of Revolutionary Violence, there were over 1,900 domestic bombings in the US, though most were not fatal. Later, the 1980s and 1990s saw the rise of the anti-government militia movement, which culminated in Timothy McVeigh's 1995 bombing of the Oklahoma federal building. That bombing killed 168 people, and is the most deadly domestic terror attack in US history. Lewis thinks that violent rhetoric is now even more normalized – that there is increasing tolerance of the idea that 'political violence, targeted hate, harassment, is OK if it's your in-group … against the 'other side''. American political leaders need to condemn political violence, Pape said, ideally in a bipartisan way and in forms that show prominent Democratic and Republican figures physically side-by-side: 'The absolute number one thing that should happen … is that president Trump and governor Newsom do a joint video condemning political violence.' After Melissa Hortman, the Democratic state legislator in Minnesota, was killed last weekend, Mike Lee, a Utah senator, published social media posts making light of her death and insinuating it was the fault of the state's Democratic governor, Tim Walz. Lee later deleted the posts, but has not apologized. Walter Hudson, a Republican state representative in Minnesota who was acquainted with Hortman, said he has been thinking about the relationship between political rhetoric and violence since Hortman's death. 'I think it's fair to say that nobody on either side of the aisle, no matter the language they've used, would have ever intended or imagined that something they said was going to prompt somebody to go and commit a vicious and heartless act like the one we saw over the weekend,' he said. He acknowledged that rhetoric can be a factor in violence, however. 'I don't know how we unwind this,' he said. 'The optimistic side of me hopes that it's going to translate into a different approach.'