Seriously, the sudden variety of on-camera death is either pointlessly gory - which I don't need; the idea of everyone seeing the chicken salad I had for lunch and the state of my liver whilst I'm trying to check out of this life with some last shred of my damned dignity after a monster attack does not thrill me (and would take the prestige away from my death scene) - or heroic to the point of ridiculousness, so that the life that precedes it is instantly made to stand small in the shadow of the heroic act that resulted in my death. Every act with meaning that happens after something like that is framed by the heroic sacrifice of the departed, and you forget that he used to swear at people in grocery lines. A hail of slow-mo gunfire is not for me. I might jump in front of some people to save them, but that would depend upon the people, and if the violence is quick enough, it's liable to catch me weighing the worth of my compadres before deciding to sacrifice myself for their potential collective mediocrity. I could end up missing this opportunity entirely and find myself staring at the receding bus that ran them all over and wondering if I should just leave, or call somebody, or...?
The non-sudden, foreshadowed for fifteen fucking minutes, on-screen sort of demise is usually reserved for one of three people; the Plot Device, who kicks off early on and you have to see it happen (usually in entrail-wrenching detail) to frameworkily understand all the subsequent stuff that springs from that event, the Wise One, who passes along important knowledge or a sacred trust (or both, possibly accompanied by a totem) and likely makes you cry about midway through the film, or finally, the Protagonist's end scene death, which only happens if the story is about you, and I'm not egotistical enough to assume that this one is. I guess it could be. Maybe I'm the one who doesn't see his destiny's path until the third act or something. Somehow, I doubt it, though. I've lived too long to be the Plot Device for someone else's story though, and I think we can agree the closest I'll ever get to Wise One is wiseguy.
Besides, all of these pretty much require a strained-breath soliloquy, a recitation of final wishes pushed out behind a sucking chest wound, or a pacific "giving up of the ghost" resignation move. The first one sounds laborious, and further has the additional pitfall of timing issues; I can't imagine anything that would piss me off more than dying before I was done talking - unless it's finishing the big speech and then being forced to hang out and make fucking small talk as I'm shuffling off. I write, I use social media, I spend quality time with my friends and family and I have more conversations in a day than I would usually prefer; if I haven't said it somewhere by the time I'm dying, then I'm expecting the rest of you can live without it. No speeches, please. If a man can't get some quiet while he's checking out, something is seriously wrong with this picture.
Nope, dying off camera seems pretty much the way to go. You can explode gloriously and no one has to see your internal bits, you can drop off quietly from disease, you can be heroic or mundane without the additional responsibility of looking good while you do it. Takes the pressure right off.
All you have to do then is die.