I suppose I was destined to hate all of M. Night Shyamalan’s films from the start. Before I had seen it, and concurrently, before the overblown hype machine took hold of The Sixth Sense and propelled it into the pop culture stratosphere about 10 years ago, my friend Stephen ruined the twist ending for me. And without the twist ending, what is The Sixth Sense? It’s a painfully slow, ridiculously overwrought, somber, depressing snooze-fest that is so full of its own pretensions, it might as well be European.
After the unwatchable Unbreakable and only making it halfway through the insanely boring and absurdly overrated Signs, I swore off Shyamalan’s films for good. But I can’t seem to escape the gravitational pull of his massive ego and messianic self-aggrandizing. I remember reading a summer preview shortly before The Village was to be released and he said something to the effect of, “I was interested in making an honest story – when people acted more authentically and said things without irony. This was an important movie for me to make – to remind people of a simpler time.”
Secondly, does everyone remember what a steaming pile of cow shit The Village turned out to be? Everyone I know who saw it (with one notable exception, but we disagree on everything, so nevermind) came back looking like they had just sat through a snuff film – like they couldn’t believe they had just been duped into paying $8 for something so misleading, so witless, and so just plain awful.
Shyamalan’s painful self-adulation oozes from his pores in every interview he conducts. He thinks he’s goddamn Steven Spielberg, Alfred Hitchcock, and Vishnu all rolled up into one perfect Indian package. And for my money, his movies fucking suck.
By now you’ve seen the previews for The Happening opening next week. I stumbled across this article on my Yahoo! page a couple of weeks ago and suddenly had Mr. Shama-lama-ding-dong pissing in my lake of tranquility again. I’d managed to expunge this annoying creep from my consciousness since his last movie, Lady in the Water, shat the bed in grand style two years ago.
Well, he’s back in all our lives in the face of all common sense. Conisidering that his last two movies exposed him for the one-trick pony he is, I’m amazed someone was stupid enough to greenlight The Happening – another wonderfully vague title meant to titillate the audience that says nothing. It’s simply another stupid parlor trick from another third rate magician. The interview I linked above has Shyamalan once again masturbating all over himself for us to worship.
“This one just had an intensity to it. People who have seen it say it’s definitely the most intense movie I’ve made and if it’s not, then I did it improperly,” Shyamalan said.
In the first few minutes, for instance, two women are sitting on a bench talking normally to each other as the dialogue gets increasingly strange. Then, as one turns to the other, she sees her friend in a horrific act — so scary, Shyamalan said, he does not want to give away all the details.”
If you didn’t want to give away all the details, then why bring it up, asshole? God, I hate that! This is exactly how his movies go: build, build, build, false climax! Now wait… and wait… and wait. More slow build. Twist ending. Feel like asking for your money back. It’s a house of mirrors, but instead of your own reflection, you get nothing but Shyamalan’s.
And I love how he calls his own scene “so scary.” What a pretentious dick. He goes on to say, “‘This (new) movie,’ he added with a laugh, ‘is more toxic than the environment. It’ll burn a hole through anything.’”
I can’t imagine having the audacity to say something like that about anything I’ve written or created myself. Really… how fucking tacky. It’s like I say to Bumhug when he’s sticking his butt in my face every night, “It’s okay to be proud, but please don’t be a showoff.”
Mr. Shyamalan could take a lesson from this. All the shameless self-importance and sticking your ass in everyone’s face all the time makes you a prick.
Several years ago for no particular reason I hoped Mariah Carey’s Glitter would fail in grand style – you know, take that pompous harlot down a peg or two – and it did sending Mariah down a hilariously embarrassing psychotic downward spiral in the process. She’s back in full force, but seems humbled remembering what happened when she got too full of her own shit.
I hope The Happening makes Glitter look like Titanic by comparison. That way, none of us will ever have to suffer this narcissist’s conceited ruminations ever again.
This movie, and all of Shyamalan’s movies for that matter, can choke on it.
05 Jun 2008 E Dagger