How does one write an intelligent, coherent review of a movie that made me feel like I was not only cheated, but done so at a shameless way? M. Night Shyamalan has, for the last three out of five movies, focused on making sci-fi/horror films that rely on only one thing: a fantastic twist at or near the movie's climax or critical point, which of course, would make you, the viewer, do a double-take and applaud him for doing something so breath-taking and original that it would, in itself, trump the big revelation in VERTIGO (1957) or the final big denouement scene in WITNESS FOR THE PROSECUTION (also 1957). With THE SIXTH SENSE (1999) he had a honest hit, a revelation of a movie director with talent to spare, but once he made SIGNS (2002), it was clear the cheap twist is all he is about.
What can one do when one has to listen to the most God-awful dialog in recent film history? Judy Greer, whom I've seen in movies of varying quality and the TV series "Arrested Development," decides to proclaim her love for Joaquin Phoenix with an intensity that rivals that of Peter Finch's speech (take your pick, there are at least five) as Howard Beale in NETWORK (1976), but since here her lines are so horrible, it's unintentionally funny. As a matter of fact, everyone speaks in that odd pilgrim-like choice of words and utters sentences like, "What is your meaning" and "I know that thing that is in your head" as if it were written by Paddy Chayefsky or Joseph Mankiewicz or even Shakespeare. It is done so totally deadpan that it becomes painful to watch and more than once I looked at the time to see how much more I would have to endure, because when a story like this is devoid of even a slight bit of humor and is equally pointless, actions must be taken.
For a director to state that he has been influenced by Alfred Hitchcock, there has to be some proof in his work. Choices of takes and scenes, choices of actors/actresses, choices of stories to tell, music, among other things. Shyamalan may say he is influenced by (Hitchcock) all he wants but if he is so, I can't see it. The use of red here -- an important part of the story -- has been done masterfully by Hitchcock in the aforementioned VERTIGO (1957) and MARNIE (1964), and better still by Ingmar Bergman's CRIES AND WHISPERS (1972). Also, Hitchcock was The Master of Suspense: he gave us enough information for us to know what is happening at the moment, and then cranked up the mounting intensity to a fever pitch like the masterful Albert Hall sequence in THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH (1956) or the scene in NORTH BY NORTHWEST (1959) where Cary Grant is left waiting for his ride in the middle of a cornfield and slowly but surely, a plane materializes. We know there is something about to happen, just not what, or if it will actually take place.
Sadly enough, there is zero suspense here. The events that take place in Covington, PA, fail to cause any sort of empathy or reaction, and the only real scene that introduces danger about to strike a major character seems so contrived it begs for a reason to exist. Why would Bryce Dallas Howard stand at the threshold extending her arm outward when it is clear there are things out there in the dark? Because the plot had her do so, not because there was a need for it.
So many ways to have told this story and genuinely introduce the twist without cheating the audience with holes as large as the ozone layer for the convenience and whims of the "plot." Shyamalan decides to cop out, waste some good talent (or, if seen differently, use high profile names like Sigourney Weaver, William Hurt, Brendan Gleeson, and Adrien Brody fresh out of his Oscar win, to ensure viewers), make some easy money, cash on his new-found fame, and produce a hat-trick that doesn't have a rabbit and basically gives no new insights. And that is a sad thing for a director to do, if he purportedly is to consider himself serious.
And one last thing: Shyamalan needs to take his name off the title of the movie, since he is not at the stature of a Kubrick or the aforementioned Hitchcock. He needs a little lesson in humility and return to making actual movies, not travesties.
What can one do when one has to listen to the most God-awful dialog in recent film history? Judy Greer, whom I've seen in movies of varying quality and the TV series "Arrested Development," decides to proclaim her love for Joaquin Phoenix with an intensity that rivals that of Peter Finch's speech (take your pick, there are at least five) as Howard Beale in NETWORK (1976), but since here her lines are so horrible, it's unintentionally funny. As a matter of fact, everyone speaks in that odd pilgrim-like choice of words and utters sentences like, "What is your meaning" and "I know that thing that is in your head" as if it were written by Paddy Chayefsky or Joseph Mankiewicz or even Shakespeare. It is done so totally deadpan that it becomes painful to watch and more than once I looked at the time to see how much more I would have to endure, because when a story like this is devoid of even a slight bit of humor and is equally pointless, actions must be taken.
For a director to state that he has been influenced by Alfred Hitchcock, there has to be some proof in his work. Choices of takes and scenes, choices of actors/actresses, choices of stories to tell, music, among other things. Shyamalan may say he is influenced by (Hitchcock) all he wants but if he is so, I can't see it. The use of red here -- an important part of the story -- has been done masterfully by Hitchcock in the aforementioned VERTIGO (1957) and MARNIE (1964), and better still by Ingmar Bergman's CRIES AND WHISPERS (1972). Also, Hitchcock was The Master of Suspense: he gave us enough information for us to know what is happening at the moment, and then cranked up the mounting intensity to a fever pitch like the masterful Albert Hall sequence in THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH (1956) or the scene in NORTH BY NORTHWEST (1959) where Cary Grant is left waiting for his ride in the middle of a cornfield and slowly but surely, a plane materializes. We know there is something about to happen, just not what, or if it will actually take place.
Sadly enough, there is zero suspense here. The events that take place in Covington, PA, fail to cause any sort of empathy or reaction, and the only real scene that introduces danger about to strike a major character seems so contrived it begs for a reason to exist. Why would Bryce Dallas Howard stand at the threshold extending her arm outward when it is clear there are things out there in the dark? Because the plot had her do so, not because there was a need for it.
So many ways to have told this story and genuinely introduce the twist without cheating the audience with holes as large as the ozone layer for the convenience and whims of the "plot." Shyamalan decides to cop out, waste some good talent (or, if seen differently, use high profile names like Sigourney Weaver, William Hurt, Brendan Gleeson, and Adrien Brody fresh out of his Oscar win, to ensure viewers), make some easy money, cash on his new-found fame, and produce a hat-trick that doesn't have a rabbit and basically gives no new insights. And that is a sad thing for a director to do, if he purportedly is to consider himself serious.
And one last thing: Shyamalan needs to take his name off the title of the movie, since he is not at the stature of a Kubrick or the aforementioned Hitchcock. He needs a little lesson in humility and return to making actual movies, not travesties.