In Barry Lyndon—one of the most visually stunning works in Stanley Kubrick’s filmography—its тιтular opportunist faces off against his vindictive stepson, Lord Bullingdon, in a duel that can only be described as one of cinema’s most iconic. Yet in a puzzling twist, after Bullingdon’s pistol misfires, Barry forfeits his turn, firing his round into the earthen ground below.

This move, which would cost Barry his leg, has baffled audiences for decades as to what exactly his motivations could possibly be. While some may see the act as a dreadful blunder fit for one of Kubrick’s more complex and memorable characters, in reality, the Irishman’s defiance lies not in futility, but in a final, fleeting attempt at redemption.

Why Barry Lyndon Spares Lord Bullingdon

Near the end of Barry Lyndon, Lord Bullingdon (Leon Vitali) returns from his self-imposed exile to challenge the grieving Barry (Ryan O’Neal) to a duel, marking the fifth time in the film that the shrewd social-climber stares death once more in the face—only this time as a drained, broken man following the prolonged death of his son, Bryan (David Morley).

Thus, when Barry meets Bullingdon’s challenge, which—in contrast to the film’s two other scenic duels pulled straight from sublime 18th-century paintings, is held in a тιтhe barn stripped of all semblances of romance—the would-be-aristocrat seemingly has nothing to lose after fate triggers Bullingdon’s pistol, endowing Barry with the perfect opportunity to vanquish his young, trembling opponent.

Yet after a lifetime of resolute opportunism, Barry relinquishes this winning hand, providing Bullingdon with a golden opportunity he quickly pounces on to strike the Irish rogue in the leg. Thus, Barry’s final act of mercy—whether out of love, grief, or some culminating, paternal desire to quell the bloodshed—becomes the ironic linchpin to his downfall in one shattering fell swoop.

The Duel Was Barry’s Last Chance At Redemption

Prior to the duel, Barry’s undoing had already begun via his futile attempts to join the aristocracy; his former glories—which had taken him across the continent as a soldier, spy, and gambler—had all but evaporated amid the depression of his wife, Lady Lyndon (Maria Berenson)—both from his infidelity and the mounting debt she’d accumulated as a result of the Irishman’s тιтle-seeking efforts.

All this came to a head after the death of Barry’s son—a tragedy the rogue had caused, in part, by purchasing the horse that would end the young boy’s life. Now alone, heirless, and penniless, Barry once more encounters Bullingdon, whose arrogant march to the Lyndon estate is swiftly met by a man now solely driven by grief and self-preservation.

Barry’s rage evaporates, however, at Bullingdon’s misfire, a blunder that reveals the boy’s true nature: fear. Though Bullingdon’s cowardice starkly juxtaposes his own courage in the duel with Captain Quin (Leonard Rossiter), a lifetime could not erase the truth Barry witnesses in a moment as fleeting as rain, yet as microcosmic of his life as the card games in which he built his name.

Moreover, who else stands before him but a scared, fatherless youth in the same vein as he against Quin? Though his arrogance pervades nearly all of Barry Lyndon, this fractional glimpse of Bullingdon’s humanity allows Barry to reconnect with his own through the realization of a dream he’s chased ever since he first left Dublin—the chance to be a gentleman.

Lord Bullingdon Is An Aristocratic Reflection Of Barry

Lord Bullingdon’s role doesn’t function solely as Barry’s antagonist, however. Motivated by class and his general air of superiority, Bullingdon represents Barry from the angle of the aristocracy. Similarly fatherless and driven by a shared desire for status, the pair become increasingly more alike as the film progresses, with Bullingdon exhibiting how Barry would act under more privileged circumstances.

In truth, these similarities only serve to widen the gap between the two characters, since, unlike Bullingdon, Barry has had to work for everything he’s built across his life, albeit largely through scheming and opportunism. In contrast, Bullingdon’s arrogance arises from his perceived status of superiority as of his birth, something Barry disproves through his mercy in their duel.

The Real Meaning Of Barry Lyndon’s Ending Explained

Thus, the film’s closing epilogue—which reads, “It was in the reign of George III that the aforesaid personages lived and quarrelled; good or bad, handsome or ugly, rich or poor, they are all equal now,” is a thematic statement on the film itself and how ambition, whether affluent or indigent, shall always remain futile before death’s equalizing hand.

Moreover, Barry’s mercy becomes all the more significant in light of the film’s closing argument, since the only truths withstanding the chopping block are life and its preservation. How sad it is indeed to chase status one’s whole life for it all to be forgotten; Barry Lyndon, if nothing else, confirms that the vestiges worth saving are love, compᴀssion, and pursuit of redemption.