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SIGNS (2002) **½ out of **** Written and Directed by: M. Night Shyamalan
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A very good friend - a respected artist in his own right - told me - no, he declared, out loud, in his office in front of his colleagues, that Signs was the worst movie of the summer. Now this isn't just an old baseball buddy or a vagabond I spent nights in forgotten bars with, this is an Ivy man - Princeton, in case that was going to lose you, the one Ivy that is solely dedicated to academia, to pure learning, with no professional schools to brag of and dazzle many an eye. |
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My Princeton friend has maintained these high ideals through the years and I've always appreciated not only his suggestions as to which films to see, but also the subsequent conversations over dinner. This is the same friend who pointed me toward Atanarjuat, toward the Dreyer retrospective at Film Forum two years ago, toward so many unknown and unacclaimed treasures. Well, I say to him finally, here in this humble unknown and unacclaimed column: "Don't be such a stuffed shirt!" Signs is not an exceptional film. But it is good enough, if there is such a thing - ahh, but there is indeed. There is a line that demarcates what is good enough and what truly isn't it. What does it take to meet the requirements that will put a film above that line? A deeply thoughtful effort and an essence transferred from artist to art. That quality will assure every time an acceptable film, one that is "good enough." |
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His dialogue is organic to the situation and so often we are forced to piece together the exposition in the first act. |
The stars have to align with divine precision for a film to be exceptional. They say luck has something to do with it. They are right. So without such fortune, what are we left with? With the purity of personal vision, and then skill and a genuine effort to execute it, we have entertainment and competence. M. Night Shyamalan knows no other way to make a film than from such an authentic place. It begins with his stories, always working within the confines of a genre - whether it be a supernatural thriller, or an invasion-suspense tale - and yet always putting forth a thoughtful premise, subtextually, something he believes in, or thinks he might like to believe in yet, with time. Shyamalan always shoots in his home state where his tales come from, where he comes from, and he stays true to that, there in Pennsylvania, Philadelphia or Bucks County alike. His dialogue is organic to the situation and so often we are forced to piece together the exposition in the first act. The films begin, plainly; wherever his characters are when the screen lights up is where we have to be with them. And yet, by the time the essential conflict is clear, we know what we need to know about these people. |
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The plot: Mel Gibson is a Protestant minister who loses and leaves his faith after a traumatic incident in his recent past (I refrain from revealing it here). Trying to simply hoe is row, literally, on a farm in Bucks County, PA, and raise his two children with the help of his brother (Joaquin Phoenix), he is forced to delve back into the realm of faith and the beyond when he finds a crop-sculpture that has been made by something... unknown. Signs misses in only a few specific ways. First, M. Night's script is not nearly as deft as his last two. In The Sixth Sense and Unbreakable, his larger cosmic theme, though discussed openly by his characters at times, is somehow not aware of itself. He establishes a heightened sense of drama and morality through a gothic tone that leaves us comfortable with broad, definitive archetypes posed against each other. The final sequence in Unbreakable for instance, is a reward to all that's come before it. We've been pointed at the minutia of these two men - Bruce Willis's superhero and Sam Jackson's fragile villain - at their childhoods, their families, their homes and afternoons. When we get to that exhibit scene, we are absolutely ready for the great stand-off of protagonist vs. antagonist. We are equally prepared for the revelation at the end of The Sixth Sense. Through distraction away from these moral questions, we're prepared for them. |
Shyamalan constantly points to the implications of his plot rather than letting the plot develop front and center. |
Signs attempts the same formula, but fails. We are still brought into Mel Gibson's world through his life as a father and farmer, eased into it, but we're never given the chance to simply feel the story, away from the deeper issue. Shyamalan constantly points to the implications of his plot rather than letting the plot develop front and center. In the end, his exposition is, for once, clumsy. M. Night Shyamalan is a better director than even I thought he was after Unbreakable. This film is enjoyable, and above that line of mediocrity, because of his meticulous handling of the camera, his endlessly imaginative visual process and his ability to transition from scene to scene organically, always pertinent, always resourceful. The music by James Newton Howard is simply, brilliant. Perhaps the finest score - or more specifically - the finest sequences in a score - that I've heard in the last ten years. The moments that feel trite in the action inspire similarly toned music. But the main theme and many of the suspense sequence-cues are violently arresting, hearkening back to Hermann's score for Psycho, yet not imitating it. |
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The performances are also... "good enough," never getting in the way and even facilitating the action at times. Gibson sets the tone immediately as he wakes on a sunny, perfect day. But something's wrong. It has to be. Phoenix is fine as the supporting brother, in every way. And Cherry Jones as Officer Paski is the film's surprise gem. Only Caulkin's asthmatic Ben is hard to take, a little too smart for his own good. So not only is this not the worst film of the summer, but Signs is worth the price of admission. It reminded me of those wonderful Ray Bradbury short stories, or Twilight Zones, or Cold War allegories, like Don Seigel's Invasion of the Body Snatchers, that are simple and contained, where these events just seem to happen to a small cast of people and we watch how they are going to cope or not cope. The events are big on their own, but in these stories, are dealt with as we would have to deal with them. No great implications are ever talked about. Only, How am I going to get back to earth? How am I going to get out of this town that never changes? How am I going to do the next thing I have to do, now that this phenomenon has happened? Signs has this quality inherently built into it, but ultimately, doesn't leave it alone to play out. Still, thanks to its creator's remarkable craft, Signs is "good enough." |