So I decide to avoid political topics, and war breaks out in the Middle East. Typical. But I’ll go along with it, and, in fact, add to it. So, for the next few weeks, I also promise to avoid talking about Warren Buffet deciding to send me a spare couple of million dollars he found in his sofa. Similarly, I’ll refrain from writing about kindly aliens who visit Earth to invite me to become the lead pilot of their giant transforming space fighter force. I’d suggest a third topic, but I’d hate to limit myself too much.
This week, I’m going to talk about movies. I’m highly unqualified to do so, but what the hell.
Let’s start with M. Night Shyamalan. I’m going to edge around this one by saying that I think that I like what he’s doing, but I don’t entirely like how he’s doing it. At least, he’s been subject to diminishing returns. I enjoyed The Sixth Sense, enjoyed what he was trying to do with Unbreakable, and thought that Signs was ok, but only just, and overly long. Although as it turns out, all of his movies run to very similar lengths (in the 106 to 110 minute range). But Unbreakable felt too long, too. That downward slope of enjoyment, plus what I had read, was enough to make me skip The Village.
So he’s done a ghost story, a superhero story, an alien attack story, a…er…what? Horror movie? Sure, close enough. And now a fairy tale. Fine and dandy. Always good to explore different areas.
Except that each one has been less good than its predecessor. Perhaps he’s spent all of his talent. Or, as people are accusing, he’s becoming more arrogant, insular, and convinced of his own genius. Which is a crime in Hollywood only when your projects no longer make as much money as they used to.
What I really enjoyed about Unbreakable was that M. had convinced a lot of people to watch a movie about comic book-style superheroes. I also thought that the actors did a good job. It just felt a bit long and drawn out. The ending was decent, so that made up for it.
Signs, though...just too long. Plus, it suffers from an affliction common to many disaster movies: Relegating the actual disaster to the background. Instead, we learn that the family at the center of the film has problems, and the disaster helps them work through the problems. But that’s crap, isn’t it? Yes, ok, dad’s emotionally crippled, and the kids are wise beyond their years yet also cynical and insecure, and those things should probably be addressed at some point, but, you know, maybe not when aliens are invading the planet. Look, you don’t need to talk through your problems right now; you need to avoid getting killed by the aliens invading the planet.
The 1953 version of War of the Worlds got this right. Yes, there’s the obviously growing attraction between the hero and heroine, but it doesn’t dominate the film. The Martian invaders dominate the film. And that’s the way it should be. When unstoppable aliens are destroying the world, some dude’s emotional problems just don’t matter all that much. He’s just one person, right? One stray heat ray and he’s out of the film. Still got those invading aliens to deal with, though.
Plus, how can you show an alien invasion without showing their ships? That’s just not right. If you’re going to do a movie about an alien invasion, and then not show their ships, and then focus on a few screwed up people, then why the hell bring in the aliens in the first place?
Oddly, after all that writing about his films, I’m not particularly interested in seeing Lady in the Water. The premise just doesn’t really grab me. I’ll rent it if it receives glowing reviews, but otherwise I’m content to miss it.
I haven’t seen any mention of it, but if you’ve got a Lady, and said Lady is in the Water, then there had better be Excalibur.