Since
monster matinees became popular among thrill-seeking audiences during the 1950’s, we’ve seen many variations on extra-terrestrials. From Spielberg’s
amicable creatures such as E.T. to Ridley Scott’s slimy predators of Alien,
those little green Martians from outer space, whether hostile or friendly, will
always be interesting subjects. What M. Night Shyamalan does with Signs,
as with The Sixth Sense and Unbreakable, is confine the supernatural
entities into suburban residences. There might be a worldwide alien invasion
occurring, but we’ll only see how it affects a specific family.
Graduating
from the school of Lucas/Spielberg blockbusters, that rare genre injecting
popcorn flicks with intelligence serums, Shymalan has already proven his talent
for cutting off the audience's oxygen supply with his suspenseful and spiritual
box-office hit, The
Sixth
Sense. Newsweek is even touting him as the next Spielberg.
While Shyamalan proficiently composes shots, ably angling multiple characters
into single frames, the director needs to start shifting thematic gears before
being forever labeled a copycat of his own work. Structurally, his last three
films are nearly identical.
In
Signs, Shymalan brags about his latest camera tricks; drawing much
attention to tightly wound close-ups that place characters in the center of the
frame. There is no denying his refreshing technique, which owes its existence
to the likes of Stanley Kubrick and Alfred Hitchcock, especially during a period
where few directors bother with the technicalities of presenting stories through
images. It’s such a well-crafted thriller, abiding by the Jaws rules of
prolonged “money-shots”, that upon realizing the point it tries so blatantly
to convey (the existence of God) the thrills feel counterfeit. Not to
imply movies about faith stocked in a supreme being are mistakes, Dogma
jelled with the topic, but poorly camouflaging your message with a sci-fi
thriller is a bigger copout than Alfonso Cuaron
(writer/director of Y Tu Mama Tambien) directing the third Harry
Potter installment.
From
Dusk Till Dawn,
the Robert Rodriguez/Quentin Tarantino shoot’em-up vampire collaboration,
dealt with religious themes in a similar way. The ex-priest played by
Harvey Keitel is identical to Signs’ Graham Hess (Mel Gibson). Both are
retired priests who renounced their faith after their wife’s death. Of course
in FDTD Keitel and his family are taken hostage by brother bank robbers
and are forced to fend off bloodsucking vampires, but the paranormal events
causes the once priest to reevaluate his beliefs. In Shyamalan’s film, Graham
is put upon once mammoth oval signs appear in his crop field. FDTD
formers campy and nihilistic attitude, ironically killing the
preacher-turned-demon with holy water, is preferable to the latter’s hammered
meaningful mushiness.
Raising his two children (Rory Culkin and Abigail Breslin) with the help of younger brother Merrill (Joaquin Phoenix), Graham is still licking the wounds of his wife’s death. Upon finding crop signs in his farm one morning, which are being spotted simultaneously around the world; the Hess' become paranoid, even more so once strange sounds and creatures start popping-up in their backyard. This is either a hoax or, as the trailer creepily says, it’s for real.
Just about every scene in Signs exists solely to service the final 10-minutes.
Every bit of character information exists for a single scene. Most of it ties in
neatly, like pieces fitting perfectly into a puzzle, but the traditional
Shyamalan twist that triggers these revelations (which this review won’t
reveal) again mashes our faces in its message. If only the
director wasn’t so obvious, like in a scene where
Graham hisses disdain for the Lord, complete with an “I hate you…” ramble. But for all its Godly sermons,
Signs is an excellent spine-chiller with abilities to
turn myths into reality. The seriousness in which the story deals with
extra-terrestrials, much more so than moronic blockbusters like ID4: Independence
Day, works well in tricking
us to believe UFO’s exist. While at times he’ll take it too far, causing a
minor suspension of disbelief, Shyamalan has definitely mastered the art of
forcing audiences to tightly clutch their seat-handles.
Shyamalan’s suspense skills aren’t his only. The Indian director has acquired Spielberg’s knack for putting an interesting twist on family drama. A comparison may not be fair, but the similarities are undeniable. By mixing supernatural elements with equally intense family situations, Shyamalan begs for the comparison.
Culkin (brother of Macaulay) and Breslin continue
Shyamalan’s casting win streak, as both young thespians are
talented discoveries too gifted for Welcher’s Grape Juice commercials.
All performances are subdued, though, to show how the Hess’ are still
shell-shocked by Colleen’s (Patricia Kalember) death. Even Mel Gibson, who
limits his Braveheart-like dramatic explosions to one or two
scenes, is able to restrain himself.
GRADE: B
-Copyright
2002 by Shaun Sages