Signs.

Review #2164: Signs.

Cast: 

Mel Gibson (Father Graham Hess), Joaquin Phoenix (Merrill Hess), Rory Culkin (Morgan Hess), Abigail Breslin (Bo Hess), Cherry Jones (Caroline Paski), M. Night Shyamalan (Ray Reddy), Patricia Kalember (Colleen Hess), Ted Sutton (SFC Cunningham), Merritt Wever (Tracey Abernathy), Lanny Flaherty (Carl Nathan), Marion McCorry (Mrs. Nathan), and Michael Showalter (Lionel Prichard) Written and Directed by M. Night Shyamalan (#039 - The Sixth Sense, #902 - Split, #1183 - Unbreakable, #1184 - Glass)

Review: 

 “I want to make a movie that is just joyous, and doesn’t have that lens of burden on it.” It can have a lot of conflict in it, but the voice, the angle, I wanted it to be inspired and childlike, almost. And so Signs was born that way."

It is interesting to see what one does as a director when their breakthrough film comes right as they are about to turn 30. The Sixth Sense (1999) was that particular moment for M. Night Shyamalan, who had made dozens of home movies before studying at New York University Tisch School of the Arts, with his first feature being a festival circuit favorite in Praying with Anger (1992). His second effort (director and writer) in Wide Awake (1998) didn't even get a big theatrical release. And yet, Sense became that kind of "oh" film, and Shyamalan had written the spec script for what became Unbreakable (2000) during post production. The film (an origin story for a hero that got marketed as a thriller) was another hit with audiences, and it may actually be more appreciated in the years that have followed since its release. It was in the aftermath of that film and its release (which he called a "very burdened movie") that he apparently got the idea to make a film distinct from what he had just made, which ended up combining two ideas he had: a crop circle found in the backyard and an end-of-the-world premised from the perspective of the house (like a certain Living Dead). The film was a general hit with audiences in that cycle of Shyamalan features with audience interest that was followed by The Village (2004).

Well, for a film called "signs", it probably should have dawned on me how the film was going to go as a whole. Honestly, it seems more of a film relying on the idea of faith and sentimentality rather than being lumped into the genres of sci-fi or horror, as if one was watching a more subdued version of The Birds (1963). In short, it is that scene in a sofa discussing the nature of miracles and what may or may not be watching us that makes the film what it is moreso than the curiosity of what lies beneath a bunch of crop circles. One is there paying attention to sounds that may or may not be there to go with the more evident family drama that comes in wavering faith. The film is best seen with as little to know about it as one can, particularly because its climax is more realization than anything, which ultimately does call to the idea of purpose even in turmoil. The kinship mostly comes through for 106 minutes in the way you might see from a end-result cheery film, or at least one that likes to dwell in close shots of people in faces. Gibson reflects that with a weary outlook of one who wants to believe but has found only people still seeing him in a different light (amusingly, Gibson was third in mind after Clint Eastwood couldn't do it and Paul Newman declined before the role was aged down). The perceptions one might have on the character might reflect on the perceptions of Gibson the actor (of the time), oddly enough. Where else do you get a film where he plays a scene of being told to swear and sound crazy for intruders outside in the most...uh...ex-reverend way possible? It must be my imagination, but Phoenix (cast due to Mark Ruffalo dropping out for surgery) being the on-screen brother of Gibson seems more surprising than anything in the film, and he does well in the growing imagination of being seeped into the buzz about circles and creatures. That one scene in particular where he is in the closet looking intently for what may be lurking in the sight of the media is probably the one standout scene. Breslin and Culkin make for fine segments to the international of the things around them (real or imagined) one sees as a kid. Ones might see terrible creatures of fear (at least, some do, if you go with tinfoil), or maybe they see explorers, or whatever. It was 2002, so think of it with a few less phones around to record beside the ones used for tapes (as per that very brief discussion of what to tape over when it comes to taping discussion of history). When it comes to the climax, I'm alright with it, in the sense that the structure to get there is better off than the one sticking effect in it. It might have served with either more vague notions of what might be out there or just a better executed look, but it works out more for the revelation of signs mattering rather than a big payoff. Facing the doubts and tribulations matter more when you have that idea spark in your head whether by sign or not. It doesn't beat you too over the head in sentiment, merely coating things over. As a whole, the movie is fine, one that is generally effective in a majority of the down-to-earth surroundings for a useful thriller with an edge towards hope among circumstance and signs that work for a solid feature of its time.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Ah yes, the end of 2023. A good deal of productive reviews (original and reduxes) were done in this year, the 13th for Movie Night. We had a variety of new faces to see in directors that will surely be repeated in 2024, because New Directors Month looms in January. October had seen a record amount of productive reviews to go with a historic streak in July that made this year one the most productive in the last ten years. We'll see what happens with the months ahead in terms of looking for films to write home about. See you in 2024.

Birdman.

Review #1570: Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance).

Cast:

Michael Keaton (Riggan Thomson), Zach Galifianakis (Jake), Edward Norton (Mike Shiner), Andrea Riseborough (Laura Alburn), Amy Ryan (Sylvia), Emma Stone (Sam Thomson), Naomi Watts (Lesley Truman), Lindsay Duncan (Tabitha Dickinson), Merritt Wever (Annie), Jeremy Shamos (Ralph), and Benjamin Kanes (Young Riggan / Birdman) Directed by Alejandro G. Iñárritu.

Review:

"I have always said that innocence is much more powerful than experience. And, in some cases, people who suddenly fall into circumstances can unexpectedly bring some virtue to them—that’s kind of the case with this character."

"It’s rare that you get to be part of some amazing experiment like this. The movie gets dark and gets weird, and it gets funny. So you’re constantly on this surfboard, kind of feeling it out. I like that. I just like seeing if I can do it.”

Filmmakers have had a variety of experiences that shape who they are that can go beyond just being shaped by cinema. For one, they can be shaped by their life experiences, as is the case for Alejandro G. Iñárritu. Born in Mexico City as the youngest of seven siblings, he was shaped by his travels made on cargo boats as a teenager (having struggled with studies in high school), which took abroad across America and Europe. He returned back to his country to study communications at Universidad Iberoamericana. He got himself into working for radio at WFM as a rock music radio host, which led to making promos and eventually transitioning into work with his own production company in Z Films, which dealt with shorts and advertisements. Iñárritu made his feature debut with Amores perros (2000), which served as the first film of a trilogy involving death and multiple storylines that would have writing from him and Guillermo Arriaga. This was his fifth feature film. It started as making a comedy in a single shot in a theatre (that developed over the span of a couple of years), done not only because of a desire to do a comedy over another drama but also because of his belief in that one lives their life with no editing, where one could be taken in by "an inescapable reality" just like the protagonist (there had been quite a few movies that were meant to play out in real time, most notably with Rope in 1948). Iñárritu, in addition to direction also co-produced the film and co-wrote it with Nicolás Giacobone, Alexander Dinelaris, Jr, and Armando Bó, who wrote the film for a period of nearly two years while working together through Skype and e-mails. Each of them, along with cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki, would win Academy Awards for their work with this film, which seems aptly appropriate.

What, a gimmick utilized to tell an interesting story that garnered attention in 2014? Anything is possible when you start with a man levitating while in his underwear. Ultimately, the enjoyment of the film relies on how much one absorbs themselves into a film that might resemble in some ways Don Quixote in its disparity between expectation and reality when it comes to who we think we are as a person, particularly in ego. When it comes to acting, that is never more true, since they are having to be someone different from themselves in a desire to be approved and so on and so forth with insecurities to list. One will either be swept away by how entertaining it proves in its execution to go alongside its elements of black comedy and drama or they will find a curiously strange experiment that lives and dies on its level of satire and fateful ending. For me, I found it to be an intriguing two hour experience, one that is a clear achievement for Iñárritu and Lubezki that moves with seamless ambition and wry enjoyment that benefits from a worthwhile cast to serve as a worthwhile film to encapsulate capable filmmaking for the 2010s. Keaton, picked by Iñárritu after he had finished the script for his ability to bring "meta-dialogue between the film and the reality", is exquisite. He manages to do so well in capturing a man wrapped in crisis over what it means to live a life wrapped in either past glories or current pursuits to find meaning within ignorance - in other words, it is one of Keaton's best performances, crafted well in anxiety that grabs one early and never loses footing in competence because we never think it is just self-aggrandizing. The rest of the group do quite well in going along with the show in terms of well-placed charm or timing, as is the case with Galifianakis or Norton, who both are quite funny in what the film requires in either wry sensitivity or self-important confidence, respectively. Riseborough and Ryan also prove useful in lending layers to outside the theater, while Stone serves as a useful bridge between a testy act with Keaton alongside her own testy grasp of her struggles. Watts and Duncan round out the cast handily for a film that builds itself up on sharp little moments between each other without being fitted into any tight cliché square or all-the-way wrapped up narratives. On the whole, I found it to be an enjoyable and curious film, balancing its act of magic realism with efficiency that tells a worthwhile feature of ego and virtue with maturity that will lend itself well to more than one viewing (particularly with its ending) to appreciate the detail that goes into a worthwhile feature of excellence and curiosity.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.