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Cream of the Crop Circles., 6 April 2009
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Author:
dunmore_ego from Los Angeles, California
*** This review may contain spoilers ***
SIGNS is a storytelling masterpiece from writer-director, M. Night
Shyamalan; a master moviemaker's layered mosaic of fear, faith, family
- and alien invasion.
Like every Night thriller, SIGNS is not of the Running and Screaming
stripe, rather, a beautifully crafted lesson in film "making"; creative
angles, smart reveals, subtle foreshadowing, tension-filled tableaux,
nuanced humor. No frame wasted, no scene superfluous, no Night
un-Shyamalaned.
Mel Gibson is widower Reverend Graham Hess, a priest who has lost his
faith, one day waking on his farm to discover - crop circles.
Resurrecting that grand hoax, Shyamalan comes right out and attributes
crop circles to extra-terrestrial aliens. But the aliens are the
McGuffin - we only see this "invasion" through snippets on TV news and
one chilling scene at a children's party. SIGNS concerns itself only
with Graham's family and their unbidden involvement in this
world-shaking event.
Joaquin Phoenix is Merrill, Graham's brother, helping him tend his farm
and raise Graham's two young kids, Morgan and Bo (Rory Culkin and
Abigail Breslin in sensational performances).
In most films, when a person "loses their faith" it doesn't mean they
have come to their senses - it means they are waiting for some
supernatural event to turn them BACK to that faith. Graham stopped
practicing priesty things after the death of his wife, run down by a
town local that fell asleep at the wheel (M. Night himself, in his
usual Hitchcock-ian cameo). Usually a gutless filmic device, Night uses
Graham's loss of faith as part of a much bigger picture, working it as
another reference to the movie's title.
The crux of SIGNS is a foreboding monologue that Graham shares with
Merrill, about "two kinds of people" - the type that believe someone is
watching over us, and the type that believe no one is. As they watch
television reports of crop circles and hovering spaceships appearing
throughout the world, Graham confesses his wife's unnecessary death
made him cross over from "someone" to "no one." Religionists regard
this as a tragedy. The only tragedy was his wife's death. "Losing
faith" is the best thing that could happen to anyone in this delusional
society - they become responsible for the first time in their lives.
What Religionists fail to realize is that if no one is watching over
us, we are the rulers of our own destiny. Why imagine some great
clockmaker planning our floods, quakes, flat tires and stubbed toes?
We forgive Night these pseudo-theological forays because every scene in
SIGNS ratchets the tension higher; Night can conjure fear from the
whisper of the wind, a rustle in the cornstalks, a hand groping under a
pantry door.
The passive ominousness of crops laying flat shows us we don't need
screaming chase scenes to create excitement, nor knives stabbed through
eyes to create horror - all it takes is a shift in normalcy: a shadowy
figure on the roof, clicking sounds on a baby monitor, a shin
disappearing into foliage.
James Newton Howard's chilling, eerie, evocative soundtrack only raises
the hairs more.
Every subplot in SIGNS is a sign itself, as it jigsaws into the fabric
of the last scene, where the Hess family confront a full frontal alien,
left behind after the "invasion" forces abandon Earth. Graham finds
that everything his wife said to him with her dying breath attains
fruition to save their lives - from Bo's obsession with leaving
"contaminated" water glasses around the house, to Morgan's asthma
attacks, and Merrill's impulsive cannonball batting arm. "Tell
Merrill... swing away!"
Many people try to find signs, allegories and messages in movies with
this tone, but few deride SIGNS for being absolutely bereft of
intelligence when it advocates predestination. Graham's wife, while
pinned to a tree by Night's car, blabbers all the info Graham will need
to save his life later, explained away by Graham as "the last sparks of
her brain firing arbitrarily."
You lost me at medulla oblongata.
Predestination negates free will. I've said it at least 4,560,670
times. But Christians never seem to get it. Graham actually believes -
as many viewers do - that events can be foretold by a dying woman who
was fed information by some outside source powerful enough to mind-meld
with her (yet not powerful enough to keep the car from hitting her); an
outside source with such dubious discernment that it would relate
life-saving info through a dying woman instead of simply mind-melding
the info into the living people who needed that info. Smart. Graham's
"faith" must have been Church of Nostradamus, or whatever you prophesy
weirdoes call yourselves - oh, that's right: Christians.
But I forgive Night. Because SIGNS suspends our disbelief so artfully
even with the contradiction of predestination. The love and closeness
of Graham's family bedrocks their adversity, and the performances
breathe beyond three dimensions. What can we say about Joaquin and Mel?
Both have wells of emotion so deep and nuanced, it makes us wonder why
their shelves are not creaking with Oscars.
As one day, M. Night Shyamalan must surely be recognized by that
insular, backslapping academy. All they need is a sign.
Or SIGNS.
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