Lady in the Water
Ok, listen up; this is another review that might make you hate my guts, and another I'll never apologize for. Some things need to be said.
Now you might get the idea from my review of 'The Village' that I had completely lost the high respect I once held for M. Night Shyamalan. Nothing could be further from the truth. Though my opinion of his auteur stature diminished steadily with every film he had released since 'The 6th Sense' (a movie that had me readily proclaiming the man as a genius) I never lost my appreciation of his pure artisan talent. Night has an uncanny eye for color, framing, cinematography, and setting. Few excel him in establishing mood or assembling a cast which ticks together like a Swiss watch. The only thing that was holding him back was the writing, or to be more specific his gimmick of the big twist ending. The longer he held on to the fallacy that his twists were both requisite and unpredictable, the more forced and artificial his stories became. It became apparent to me that if the man ever wanted to become the artist he so wholly believes himself to be, he would need to abandon this narrative crutch and simply write a story for its own sake.
This is why the truckload of blistering
white-hot hatred that greeted this film upon its release completely befuddles
me. It will be one of the greater regrets of my life that I actually listened to
the blind witless solipsism of the mainstream critics. That I forever missed
experiencing this film's luminous vision on the big screen, subjecting myself
instead to such masterful works as 'The Wicker Man'.
I could, without pang of conscience or falter of aim, bitch-slap to the point of
coma the dull-eyed onanist mobs who proclaimed the monumental ego trip Shyamalan
was on for (*gasp*!) daring to tell a freakin' story! From its initial
introduction, this film was put forth as nothing more than a fairy tale for
grown-ups. (You'll remember one of my main gripes with The Village was that it
was marketed as horror, and there's no end to what was wrong with that.)
"No, no, no!" cried the fatuous. "We steadfastly and
belligerently refuse to take this film on its own terms. How dare you demand we
enjoy the storytelling process?" I am agog at the absolute screaming lunacy
of someone who has a problem with Shyamalan jettisoning the insufferable twist
gimmick and just cutting his imagination free. Are we so filled with empty bile,
with pseudo-intellectual pomposity, that a man who likes to tell tales becomes a
villain? That the use of "silly" names like Narf and Tartutic is
apparently an affront worthy of immolation in a public square?
(I actually heard so many critics p*ssy-bitching about those names I lost count.
As usual, the freethinking individuals are all in the type of parroting lockstep
that would make a nazi marching regiment seem flamboyantly willy-nilly.)
Perhaps this petulant nonsense was due in part to Night's including a humorless pedantic film critic (portrayed wonderfully, and I am forced to add quite realistically by Bob Balaban) as something of a stumbling block to the forces of light. I'll admit that this initially gave me pause, as on its face this might seem like a petty revenge fantasy akin to Uwe Boll literally boxing his detractors. However, as personally self-serving as this character may be, I find it impossible to disagree with the point Night was making by his inclusion. Farber is a critic in the grand old John Simon tradition, one entirely dead to the magic of film, and truly, of any other aspect of life. His job is to weigh art like so much halibut, despite the fact that he despises what it is, and finds it an unspeakable imposition to even be subjected to it.
But, and here's the rub, there is a point to
be drawn from this film which Night also missed. Much trouble arises from
Farber's arrogant assumptions as to who other beings are and how they will act
in the future. There is obviously a parallel being drawn to critics (myself
among them) who were able to preclude the conclusion of 'The
Village' from the very first frame, and thus, found the whole thing
pointless. Trouble is, we were absolutely right. The problem with that film
however-and this is key-was not in its transparent climax, but in the fact that
the narrative was simply not strong enough to stand on its own, lame ending or
not.
Though sharply refuting the position from which this opinion was reached 'Lady
in the Water' is proof in itself that the point was valid. 'Lady's' resplendent
success as narrative was only made possible by Night finally jettisoning his
favorite pet affectation. (Can you possibly imagine the hideous ending he might
have come up with for this? Uggh!)
Sometimes when we believe ourselves too clever by half we ironically cage our muse. Here Night has presented a hauntingly gorgeous story. One though containing much deeper subtext and symbolism is, at its core, just a sweet bedtime story he originally wrote for his children. It works simply and beautifully because it is simple and beautiful.
Unless, paradoxically, you're being childish.
9.0
December 30, 2006