I feel like I would be doing the movie going public a favor
by giving away the terrible secret that waits beyond the woods
of “The Village.” But then again, why shouldn’t
everyone else have the same chance to learn the horrible truth?
Is it Disney World? Is it Peachtree City? Is it the theatre
parking lot?
M. Night Shyamalan, a director whose work has been very trendy
to like since the incomprehensibly popular mess, “The Sixth
Sense,” skyrocketed Bruce Willis, of all people, into the
serious actor stratosphere, may have finally put the kibosh on
his oh-so-clever movies.
Touted for its cinematography and haunting score, it sounds
to me like the Shyamalytes are reaching for anything they can
to boast about. It does have some nice imagery, but there is
nothing particularly new here. The soundtrack is befitting the
eerie surroundings, but the two sustained notes played to heighten
the tension are all too familiar. Gushing about the way this
movie looks and sounds is like going on about the brilliant costume
design in “Anchorman.”
As for the story, asking questions concerning details of the
plot is not wise. Much like the elders who impose their weary
beliefs on their unsuspecting children, the audience is asked
to accept what they see at face value. Fine. I can do that.
Oddly disturbing clues slowly pile up making us more and more
anxious to venture into the woods. As the final revelation approaches,
each nagging question is answered with dramatic economy. All
the little payoffs are satisfying in their own way except for
the big one awaiting on the other side of the trees.
It makes for a great statement about innocence and corruption,
but it is all too brief and poorly thought out. It’s as
if the filmmaker runs out of time and suddenly loses interest
in the project. “Let’s just get this over with.” he
seems to say. Unfortunately the audience is in agreement.
The actors play their Amish-like roles with conviction pulling
you into their isolated world of simple pleasures. Bryce Dallas
Howard in her first starring role as the spunky, blind girl,
Ivy gives the film its one point of light. Her performance points
to greater things to come. Joaquin Phoenix as Lucius Hunt is
the young stoic short on conversation but long on courage. William
Hurt as Edward Walker, the patriarch of the bunch uses his paused
speech pattern to full effect. The movie would have been ten
minutes shorter without his histrionics. Adrian Brody plays the
village idiot with all the restraint of Jim Carrey. Eventually
he pays for it.
The presence of Sigourney Weaver as Alice Hunt does little to
spice up the proceedings. She underplays her character, supposedly
reined in by the suffocating constraints of a puritan existence.
I must admit, the story is thought provoking. After it’s
over, you will be asking yourself a lot of questions. Some of
them will be about the plot twists. Others will be about practicalities
like where they get their clothes. There is plenty more to ponder
here, much of it connected to the ending. Is this a cautionary
tale? Is it an exercise in mood enhancement? Is it a wistful
longing for days gone by? Is it a rip off of H.P. Lovecraft or
Rod Serling?
It’s a little bit of all of these. The worst that can be
said about “The Village” is that it is unbalanced.
There is plenty of buildup to make you squirm in your seat until
you are on the edge of it. When you get to the precipice and
fall off at the end, you suddenly wake up like it was all a long
bad dream.
