Posted on 08/02/2004 6:04:08 AM PDT by BluegrassScholar
M. Night Shyamalan's new film, The Village, begins with one of the director's trademark spooky conceits: a preindustrial village separated from the world by a forest full of monsters. It's an apt metaphor for Shyamalan's own hermetic universe. He lives outside of Philadelphia with his wife and children and insists on shooting most of his films within a day's drive. His movies have their own internal schemas, their own calling cards, their own signature sound effects. And the oh-so-polished presentation leads to the nagging question: Is M. Night a filmmaker or is he a marketing plan?
To understand the Shyamalan phenomenon, turn to his high-school yearbook. In a photograph doctored to look like the cover of Time magazine, M. Night is wearing a bow-tie, cummerbund, tuxedo top, and sneakers. The headlines above the photo read "Best Director" and "N.Y.U. grad takes Hollywood by storm." Born in India and raised in an affluent Philadelphia suburb, M. Night grew up ensconced in the world of regulated suburban achievement: polo shirts, test prep, and college stickers covering the rear window of the Volvo station wagon. He may have wanted to be Spielberg, but money would be the measure of his success.
Wasting no time, Shyamalan graduated NYU early. At the age of 21, he was writing, directing, and producing his first film, Praying With Anger. He played the lead, an Indian-American college student who discovers the spirituality of India. Released in 1992, the movie grossed a meager $7,000 dollars. He next wrote and directed a movie called Wide Awake (1998) for Miramax. It was the story of a sports-loving nun, played by Rosie O' Donnell, who helps a boy find God after his grandfather dies. The rough cut was too treacly even for Harvey Weinstein (a soft-touch for little kid movies, especially foreign ones), who unleashed a legendary speaker-phone tirade that humiliated Shyamalan and made O'Donnell cry.
M. Night Shyamalan's new film, The Village, begins with one of the director's trademark spooky conceits: a preindustrial village separated from the world by a forest full of monsters. It's an apt metaphor for Shyamalan's own hermetic universe. He lives outside of Philadelphia with his wife and children and insists on shooting most of his films within a day's drive. His movies have their own internal schemas, their own calling cards, their own signature sound effects. And the oh-so-polished presentation leads to the nagging question: Is M. Night a filmmaker or is he a marketing plan?
To understand the Shyamalan phenomenon, turn to his high-school yearbook. In a photograph doctored to look like the cover of Time magazine, M. Night is wearing a bow-tie, cummerbund, tuxedo top, and sneakers. The headlines above the photo read "Best Director" and "N.Y.U. grad takes Hollywood by storm." Born in India and raised in an affluent Philadelphia suburb, M. Night grew up ensconced in the world of regulated suburban achievement: polo shirts, test prep, and college stickers covering the rear window of the Volvo station wagon. He may have wanted to be Spielberg, but money would be the measure of his success.
Wasting no time, Shyamalan graduated NYU early. At the age of 21, he was writing, directing, and producing his first film, Praying With Anger. He played the lead, an Indian-American college student who discovers the spirituality of India. Released in 1992, the movie grossed a meager $7,000 dollars. He next wrote and directed a movie called Wide Awake (1998) for Miramax. It was the story of a sports-loving nun, played by Rosie O' Donnell, who helps a boy find God after his grandfather dies. The rough cut was too treacly even for Harvey Weinstein (a soft-touch for little kid movies, especially foreign ones), who unleashed a legendary speaker-phone tirade that humiliated Shyamalan and made O'Donnell cry.
Shyamalan now had two bombs to his name and supported himself by screenwriting. There was, however, one chance to turn things around—a long shot. M. Night was in pursuit of the screenwriter's holy grail: the perfect script, one so redolent of profit, star-friendly roles, and greenlight power that the studio executives simply could not turn it down.
Not only did Shyamalan write that script-The Sixth Sense (1998)—he also realized that he had written that script. He flew to Los Angeles, rented a suite at the Four Seasons, and gave the final draft to his agents on Sunday, telling them to auction it off on Monday. Disney offered him $3 million and promised him he could shoot the film. On the Philadelphia set, Shyamalan somehow transformed himself into a disciplined director. He made the film very simply, with long, soothing takes. He coaxed a good performance out of Bruce Willis by essentially requiring him not to act, while Haley Joel Osment turned in one of the greatest natural performances by a child actor. The movie wasn't like a Spielberg film, except for the feeling that you should call your mother afterwards. The closest influence was Hitchcock: the point-of-view editing, the emotional close-ups of actors, the fixation on detail, and the eerie score. It also adhered to Hitchcock's definition of terror: "If you want the audience to feel the suspense, show them the bomb underneath the table." We knew the ghosts were coming to chat with Haley Joel, and that's why we were under our seats.
The Sixth Sense became one of top 10 grossing films of all time, and what does M. Night do with his newfound power? He stays put in Philadelphia, refusing to move to L.A. and play ball. He creates a local film industry around his productions. And most importantly, he begins the process of burnishing his legend. When a reporter asks him what he wanted his name to mean in the future, he replied, "Originality." Access to his scripts in progress is extremely limited, lest anyone reveal their secrets.
(Excerpt) Read more at slate.msn.com ...
I just saw it this weekend. What a bore.
Every time I think about the Village I get this desire to warn people off.
There was something about the ads for the Village that just didn't impress me - so I stayed away from it. -- Maybe it was a 6th sense!
Paranoid greenhorn with money. Lives like a little prince surrounded by bodyguards and those who sweep up behind him. Real P.O.S.
Are you talking about M. Night? I don't doubt it, but how do you know this? Personal experience, trusted observer, what? Again, not a challenge, just a clarificaiton.
Thanks.
I loved unbreakable better than sixth sense and signs. I'm probably the only one.
The village was okay.
I go in this order best to worst.
Unbreakable.
Signs.
sixth sense.
the village.
It would've been better if the stories of the mythical creatures turned out to be real and many of them showed up at the end.
I think Roger Friedman's theory about this movie being anti-Bush was too far-fetched. I actually think this movie can be better interpreted to criticize the isolationist stand of conservatism. The cinematography, the scenery (the movie was filmed in the "neck of the woods," ;-)where I grew up, in northern Delaware/extreme southeastern Pennsylvania), and the score were all great. The featured violin soloist was Hilary Hahn, who I saw in concert earlier this year. She's a great musician.
I think the author of the article at the beginning of the thread hates Shymalan because he isn't a "player" in Hollywood, and because he makes in an old-fashioned sense.
Didn't have that much trouble w/ your "logic fault #1" since she had already demonstrated her capability in the film, and it was also verbally reinforced by a statement from Hurt's character. It is also reasonable to assume that the road is a cord within the circular border, so either way would have brought her to the wall. Her selection was also somewhat reasonable since blindness increased the chance that she would not come back with "problem" information (at least from a script standpoint).
The greater idiocy is why the "elders" would go to the trouble of funding and establishing such a thing and not structure provision for this very problem. Further, why did the "preserve" have the supplies needed in such quantity if they were meant only for "first aid"? Why did the elders hide the red outfits, yet not hide a modern change of clothes for reentry into "town" for this very situation? The stupid logic problems in this film go on and on.
A few more of my concerns... Two of the three "rules" made some sense - if one does not go into the woods one never finds out the truth, and running for cover when the bell rings gives the elders an effective way to "quarantine" the town in the event of an airplane or a group of curious teens. But what is with the red and yellow color crap? Can't see any reason. Why on earth didn't one of the elders go to town? Wouldn't modern medicines be easier to conceal and explain than the elaborate charade that was being propped up to maintain isolation? Seems to me that the "elders" traded the arbitrary violent deaths of loved ones in the "towns" for arbitrary deaths in the village due to their poor planning and stubbornness under the guise of "principle".
In The Sixth Sense the viewer inevitably goes over the story reconstructing the reality of Willis being a ghost. In The Village I found myself going over the story thinking of all the ways it was one big lame shaggy-dog story that just didn't add up.
Last comment, Howard’s' daughter was one of the few bright spots in a movie that is barely worth a DVD rental fee.
The movie was as bad as all that. Only one twist and all sorts of improbable plot assumptions. Reminded me of the Blair Witch Project.
I saw it last week. A good film. I'm not sure why all the critical carping by (so called) critics ...
He is young. If he is serious about his craft he will learn from his mistakes. I guess I won't be seeing it though, everyone so far hates it. Oh well, better luck next time.
How awful! The man wants to shoot his movies where he can go home to his family each day. [SARCASM OFF]
And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the sole reason for this hit-piece.
Bryce Howard is Ron Howard's daughter. I read a lot of reviews of this film and they are all over the place. I decided it is a matter of individual taste. If you like this director's work, you will probably like it, it not, you won't.
However, every review whether good or bad, did agree that Bryce Howard was terrific. Perhaps there is a supporting actress nomination in her future.
I saw The Village yesterday. I thought the first few minutes were quite, almost lulling (then again, I was on medication). Overall the movie was good. I agree with your comment on living with fear. I also appreciated the story element of the elder (William Hurt) struggling with the choice of defending the village at the expense of innocence or risking discovery for the sake of his daughter's love. I really enjoyed the movie. Then again... I was on meds.
Friedman hates Pres. Bush and makes every effort to bash him. This lead to the convoluted reasoning in his review- What a jerk!
Thanks, I'm going to rent it. Anyone have other suggestions, please let me know. I never heard of stir of Echoes until reccommended, and I loved it.
I am going to rend Session 9-thanks any more suggestions would be welcomed.
Wow, this critic really dislikes Shyamalan.
I read two critiques from slate on this movie. Without giving away too much, both critics seemed to wonder why certain things were done (as in, why didn't they just do this ___, wouldn't that have been easier?).
Both critics overlooked the notion that perhaps the path of least resistance is not necessarily the right path to follow. Truth, justice, honor, and faith are not just slogans. To many people even today, honoring a vow, though it may cost them everything, still holds meaning. And for me, that is a large part of what this movie was about. But again (as noted in another post), I'm still on meds so what do I know. : )
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