Labels: Academy Awards, Movie Review, Movies

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Labels: Bad-Cinema, Movie Review, Movies, X-Files

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Labels: Bad-Cinema, Ben Stiller, Movie Review, Tropic Thunder

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Labels: Horror, Movie Review, Nosferatu, Vampire

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“Did they look like psychos? Is that what they looked like? They were vampires. Psychos do not explode when sunlight hits them, I don't give a fuck how crazy they are!”

-- Seth Grecko (George Clooney)

It’s not a good sign when your vampire movie begins to suck donkey balls when the vampires show up.

But that’s the unfortunate circumstance in “From Dusk Till Dawn” (1996).

Make no mistake: “From Dusk Till Dawn” is B-movie camp all the way. Director Robert Rodriguez and Screenwriter Quentin Tarantino embrace cheesy cinema in much the same way that John McCain is now gushing about government regulations: a bit over the top.

B-movies can be artful. Look no further than Rodriguez and Tarantino’s recent collaboration on “Grindhouse” (2007).

But 11 years ago, they didn’t quite have the recipe down yet. The result is that “From Dusk Till Dawn” is an uneven effort that tumbles down the rat hole of fantastically bad cinema right about the time the strippers turn into blood suckers.

The first half of the film is downright good: a gritty, hard-boiled crime caper featuring odd-ball personalities and crisp, crackling dialogue. It starts out with bank robbers Seth (George Clooney) and Richard (Tarantino) Gecko on the run in southern Texas. Richard, a sociopathic killer, has rescued his older brother from a courthouse – leaving behind a blood bath.

The two outlaws – dressed like they were part of the “Reservoir Dogs” (1992) crew – have kidnapped a bank teller and speed off into the desert. They end up at Benny’s Liquor Mart for the best scene of the movie.

The liquor store clerk, Pete Bottoms, is chatting with Texas Ranger Earl McGraw who has come in for a beer. They babble on a bit before the Ranger mentions that the Geckos are coming through and if he sees them – “pay back.” He goes to use the toilet and we find out the Geckos are already in the liquor store – holding two female customers hostage.

Of course, it turns into a blood bath – but not before we get some patented snappy dialogue from Tarantino. The Geckos end up at a sleazy motel with the kidnapped cashier. The second best part of the movie is when Seth leaves the poor woman alone with misbehaving brother, Richie. When Seth gets back – well, only chunks of the woman are left.

If only the movie continued with the story of the Geckos and their run from the law.

Alas, it does not.

Instead we’re introduced to Harvey Keitel as Jacob Fuller, a minister on a trip with his two teenage children (Juliette Lewis and Ernest Liu). Fuller has lost his faith after the death of his wife and he’s decided to ride his Winnebago into the sunset.

The Fuller family has the misfortune of meeting up with the Geckos – and, well, a kidnapping ensues. The Geckos (with Fullers in tow) escape to Mexico and Seth is ready to meet his criminal friends at a stripper, biker bar called “Titty Twister.”

Here’s the catch. At the “Titty Twister” the strippers and staff are vampires that use the bar as a lure to unsuspecting truckers and bikers (we never get any explanation). Here the movie stalls -- badly. It transforms from crime spree flick into a cheap, not-very-frightening horror movie. The special effects are terrible, the campy nature of film slides into the ludicrous, and the one-liners become groan inducing.

The transformation from one movie genre to another is jarring. There’s no segue at all. Suddenly, we’re in a cheesy horror movie. Wham-O!

There are so many stupid things happening in the second half that its enough to make you vote Republican: one of the characters is named Sex Machine (he has a gun at his crotch that fires when erect); the characters actually stop and converse while in the middle of a vampire melee; and then there’s Harvey Keitel eye-rolling monologue trying to convince his kids to kill him when he transforms into a vampire after being bit. It hurts.

Add to this pap the miserable vampire make-up – I’ve seen better Halloween costumes – and the clunky new characters and you’ve got some seriously bad film making.

Do yourself a favor. Watch the first half – then turn it off.

More Fantastically Bad Cinema:

Rambo

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End

3:10 to Yuma

Labels: Bad-Cinema, From Dusk Till Dawn, Horror, Movie Review, Movies

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Observations and Rants While Watching the Horror Movie That Changed the Genre

I saw the original “Halloween” for the first time when I was in eighth grade. To say it scared the shit out of me is to reduce the term “scared the shit out of me” to meaninglessness. The movie gave me nightmares – for weeks. Hell, it changed my perceptions on fear. I still think about butcher-knife welding madmen every damn time I hear a strange noise in the night.

Can it be argued that the United States’ obsession with serial killers started with this low-budget slasher flick (that cost about $300,000 to make)? Can it be argued that Michael Myers – the demented seemingly supernatural killer – is the grandfather of Hannibal the Cannibal, Jason Voorhees, Darkly Dreaming Dexter, Freddy, and all the rest of our gloriously worshiped Hollywood mass murderers?

Yes, it can be. So on the year that “Halloween” turns 30 I decided to rent the 25^th anniversary edition and watched it – alone – to take only my second look at the horror movie that changed everything.

Here’s my real-time running commentary on the film (the parenthetical comments were all added later):

• John Carpenter’s piano score is one of the creepiest themes to a horror movie. The opening sequence shows a jack o’lantern with a bemused expression -- a candle glowing within it's plump interior. The music pounds away and I can feel a lump growing in my throat – this is truly a moment of hesitancy and I’m thinking: “Why the hell am I doing this?” The music grows and the camera gets closer and closer to the pumpkin and the bemused expression starts to subtly change – into a very demented face and then it all goes dark and I know I’m friggin' in for it.

• The first person point of view is brilliant. The sister is making out with her boyfriend – so you know that her number is up. Where did the idea that sex will get you killed in a horror movie come from anyway? Oh, yeah -- "Halloween.” It was John Carpenter that introduced for modern audiences the concept of “immoral” teenagers literally getting the knife. One of the criticisms of the film is that sexual active characters are the first die. Carpenter dismisses this as nonsense – but there it is.

• The boyfriend bounds down the stairs after like two minutes. Talk about a quicksilver in the sack! No wonder he’s ambivalent when she yells down the stairs for him to call her in the morning. I’d be embarrassed at that performance as well.

• The first time you see the movie – you think the first-person is some adult killer. He puts on the mask and just starts hacking up his sister. It’s a terrible, shocking scene. When he runs down the stairs and the car pulls up with his parents inside. Wow. There’s this little kid in a clown suit and the knife is so big in his hand it looks like a sword. Blows you away. Even now when I know its coming. Is there a better opening for a horror flick?

• Donald Pleasence is an ugly bastard. Why do I immediately start thinking about Nazis when I see him?

• Pleasence is driving with a nurse who is dressed like Florence Nightingale. She’s actually wearing a black-and-red cape. I'm not kidding.

• Uh oh, here comes the music!

• There are mental patients wandering the lawn – at night, in the rain! Donald don’t leave the goddamn car!

• Michael has escaped and Donald shouts: “The evil is gone! The evil is gone from this place!” Jesus, what a jackass.

• Jamie Lee Curtis makes her appearance at 11 minutes in. She’s a high school girl in nearby Haddonfield – where Michael Myers grew up. Hmm. He escaped from the mental institute. Wonder where the plucky bastard is heading?

• Jamie Lee is hot.

• Holy crap! Michael is in the goddamn house! Oh, man, he’s following her and you can hear him breathing.

• Classroom scene. Look at all those terrible 70s haircuts. Nice bangs.

• Whoa, Michael is outside the school watching Jamie. Damn this movie is scary (It’s no wonder Entertainment Weekly named it the 5^th scariest of all time).

• Donald finds a truck that Michael stole and runs off. The camera pans back and there’s a dead body in the bushes. For those counting – Michael has already murdered two people: his sister and this unknown pick-up truck driver. Donald, by the way, was wearing a suit with a vest. Quite sharp.

• Jamie is walking with her two girlfriends – and the girlfriends share a smoke. They’re dead (the girlfriends are P.J. Soles and Nancy Kyes. Soles is probably best known as the sexy MP who romanced Bill Murray in “Stripes.” Kyes appeared in “Halloween II” and “The Fog” and then pretty much disappeared).

• Carpenter just doesn’t let up. One of the incredible things about the film is how he makes the scenes so tense and creepy – even when they are taking place in broad daylight. Michael drives slowly by the Jamie and the girlfriends and one of them yells out at him. He brakes in the middle of the road. It’s really quite scary – yet it is right after school.

• By the way, if its autumn in Illinois then why are all the trees green? (Turns out the film was done in California – in the late spring. The crew made fake dead leaves and threw them all over the set. Couldn’t do much about the real trees, however, and apparently there are a few palm trees in the movie).

• The music really does add an element of eeriness to the entire proceedings.

• There’s Michael again behind a shrub. This guy is quite persistent.

• Hmm. Suddenly the streets and sidewalks are soaking wet. When did it rain?

• Michael’s in the laundry in the backyard!

• Donald is back – checking out the graveyard of Michael’s sister, Judith. The headstone is gone. Donald says: “He came home.” Captain Obvious!

• Fabulous. “Don’t Fear (the Reaper)” by Blue Oyster Cult is playing in the car with Jamie and Kyes. Michael, of course, is following them.

• Whoa. It’s suddenly pitch black. Night falls fast in Illinois.

• Apparently, Michael ate a dog when hiding out in his old, abandoned house. Donald and the Sheriff are checking out the house. Donald tells the Sheriff “This is no man.”

• Oh, man. A rock gets thrown through the window. I may have a skid mark on my boxers.

• Donald is talking about dark eyes and devil eyes. He thinks Michael is evil and he spent six years trying to reach him and another six trying to keep him locked up.

• Look at the size of those telephones!

• Kyes is in deep, deep trouble. She just took off her shirt and pants in the kitchen and Michael is watching her. Call me nuts, but I don’t think he likes naked women much.

• Michael kills another dog. Death count: 2 dogs, 2 humans.

• Jamie and the boy she babysits are watching “The Thing,” which John Carpenter would end up remaking (in 1982).

• The people Kyes are babysitting have no washer and dryer in the house. It’s in a dark shed in the backyard. Very unfortunate for her. Oh, man, here it comes!

• She made it.

• Michael is like a jack-in-the-box.

• Kyes is alone again – after dropping off her ward with Jamie. The way she’s parading around it’s only a matter of when. She in her car and she leans forward to wipe condensation off the windows (really nice touch) and then Michael pops out of the backseat and kills her.

• Body count: 3 dead people.

• P.J. Soles just showed up with her boyfriend – and they’re drinking beer. They’re heading into the house where Kyes was babysitting and now it’s completely dark. Now they are making out. Won’t these kids ever learn?

• Now they’re upstairs in bed and Michael’s shadow passes across them.

• Soles has an annoying giggle.

• Michael just pinned the boyfriend to the wall with the butcher knife. He standing back to admire his handiwork. Brutal.

• In one of the more twisted scenes, Michael puts a sheet over his head and put glasses on it. He goes to see Soles. She calls Jamie, who – swear to God – is knitting. Michael then proceeds to choke Soles to death with the phone chord.

• Body count: 5 dead people

• Donald sees the car Michael stole down the street. You think he would have, you know, turned around earlier.

• Jamie has walked across the street – into the house of death.

• She creeps up the stairs and there is Kyes lying on the bed with her throat slashed and Judith Myers gravestone behind her. She whimpers, bangs into the closet door, and the boyfriend swings out (putting another skid in my poor boxers). Jamie screams. Run, Jamie, run!

• And then another door squeaks open and there’s Soles. Another scream. Jamie really can scream.

• Then Michael is behind her and stabs – and actually misses. The bastard rips her shirt and she falls down the stairs. But how did he miss?

• She runs across the lawn screaming help. But the neighbors don’t do anything. Sounds more like California than Illinois.

• Here comes Michael. She’s banging on the door trying to get in and he walks across the street. It’s a tense scene. But the little boy finally does let her in. Unfortunately, he’s already in the house.

• Michael pops up from behind the couch – and misses again. It’s a bloody easy shot! The dude is 0 for 2. So Jamie sticks a knitting needle in his neck.

• Donald is wandering the streets aimlessly.

• Jamie goes to get the children – but she should have called 911 first. Here comes Michael again. Jamie locks herself in the closet and the rattling starts. This is the famous scene with the light bulb swinging and then she stabs him in the eye with a coat hanger and then with his own knife. Jesus.

• Michael is up again. He grabs Jamie and starts to choke her. Donald runs in and shoots the living blazes out of him. Hits him like six times and he falls out of the second floor onto the ground. Jamie says: “Was that the Boogie Man?” Donald says: “As a matter of fact, it was.”

• When he looks down. Michael is gone. The music starts and Donald looks really, really scared.

• The movie ends with Jamie whimpering. Then the breathing from every where.

• Damn that’s a scary movie.

Labels: Halloween, Movie Review, Movies

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Alfred Hitchcock’s “Rope” (1948) is a claustrophobic masterpiece – a spiraling descent into the dark recesses of human nature. Hitchcock explores the rough edges of ego and impulse and how they can lead to horrible consequences.

It may be Hitchcock’s greatest movie. Certainly it is his most tightly constricted piece – filled with long takes in near real-time. It’s an amazing achievement of controlled tension.

The only exterior shot in the film comes during the opening credits. The camera rests on an apartment window with the curtains pulled shut. There is a muffled scream and then suddenly we’re inside the apartment where David Kentley is being strangled to death by two of his friends.

The movie setting goes internal. It reflects the direction of the film because we’re about to get inside the minds, motivations, and the personalities of the characters. We’re trapped inside the apartment for good – just like poor, dead David who has been stuffed into a chest.

His murderers are two wealthy, intellectual young men named Brandon Shaw (John Dall) and Philip Morgan (Farley Granger). They have killed their friend for one reason – to experience the sensation of murder. They want to pull off the perfect crime – and revel in their superiority.

To make matters even more horrifying, Brandon and Philip are throwing a dinner party and inviting David’s family, his girlfriend (Janet), the girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend, and their former academy teacher Rupert (their mentor who has inspired their crime with his misinterpretations of Nietzchian philosophies of the Superman).

“Nobody commits a murder just for the experiment of murder,” Brandon says as he pops a bottle of champagne. “Nobody except us.”

But the celebration isn’t what Brandon expects because the heavy weight of their crime begins to crush the more sensitive Philip. Brandon is the cold, charming snob – and a classic sociopath. Philip, however, slowly begins to unravel. He gashes his palm after crushing a wine glass in his hands when David’s aunt mistakes another guest for David.

But even the cool and calm Brandon has moments of panic. When David’s father asks where his son is, Brandon stammers: “I thought he was coming with you!”

Rupert (Jimmy Stewart) doesn’t show up until 30 minutes into the film. And once he arrives the film becomes his. Stewart – one of the greatest actors in American history – is amazing in “Rope.” Personally, he didn’t like his performance, but the movie is in essence about the transformation of Rupert – his growth from a bitter cynic into a connected human being. And it works.

Here’s a peek into Rupert. Introduced to Janet (Joan Chandler):

“Ah, Miss Walker,” he says.

“How did you know?” she asks.

“Brandon has spoken of you.”

“Did he do me justice?”

“Do you deserve justice?” he asks and then waltzes off with a smirk.

The commanding personality of Rupert begins to melt Brandon. He joins Philip as the weight of his crime is reflected back to him in the presence of his mentor.

Rupert – a naturally suspicious and cunningly observant man – gets his first thread to pull when Brandon – a game player – serves chicken for dinner. Philip no longer eats chicken after having to strangle one at Brandon’s farm. When Brandon tells the story with an evil twinkle in his eye, Philip has an outburst of anger. The scene gives Rupert his first clue and his investigation begins.

He comes up with gems like this: “You’re more than unusually allergic to the truth tonight Philip. That’s the second time you haven’t told it.”

Ultimately the keen Rupert finally discovers the grim secret in the bottom of the trunk. It’s a chilling scene. The movie ends with Rupert throwing open the apartment window and letting the outside cleanse the inside of the apartment with its noise and voices.

And Philip utters the last words of the movie: “They’re coming.” They don't make movies like "Rope" anymore. But they should.

Labels: Hitchcock, Movie Review, Movies, Ode To, Rope

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The fourth installment of the Rambo series – simply titled “Rambo” (amazingly that wasn’t taken) – has an uncomplicated message:

Non-violence is for pussies.

That’s why more than 230 people are killed – on screen – in this blood lust of a movie. The violence is graphic: limbs blown off, skulls crushed under boots, throats torn out, and heads decapitated.

But all in the name of truth and justice!

“Rambo” (2008) exploits the deplorable situation in Burma – the country’s military junta has been in the process of ethnic cleansing the Karen natives for more than 60 years. But even worse is the film’s simple-minded and cynical solution – the only way to counteract violence is with more violence. All the peaceful characters in the movie are either killed or see the violent light (a Christian doctor, for example, who deplores the taking of life finally bashes the brains out of a Burmese soldier with a sharp rock).

"Rambo" is a bad film. But it wants to be more than the sum of its parts. It wants to be an "important" action film -- blood, sweat, and bullets with a message. But it ain't.

“Rambo” features a lumbering Sylvester Stallone reprising his role as the conflicted, ultra-violent ex-Green Beret John Rambo. Stallone resembles the giant from Jack in the Beanstalk as he thuds heavily across the screen grunting and muttering gems like: “They would've raped her 50 times and cut your fucking heads off” and “Fuck the world.” He's supposed to be the wise old warrior -- but he comes across as a retarded oaf.

As the movie opens, we find a sweaty, bloated Rambo living in Thailand as the owner of a river boat. He makes his living ferrying passengers, collecting poisonous snakes for a modest tourist attraction, and sweating profusely. A group of clean-cut Christian missionaries in bright colored outfits shows up and asks Rambo to take them into war-torn Burma so they can administer medical aid and bring humanitarian supplies to the victims.

The missionaries, with the exception of the pretty blond Sarah (played by Julie Benz), are portrayed as a bunch of sheltered, self-righteous wimps. When a perspiring Rambo mumbles that the only way to help the victims is to smuggle in weapons, the missionaries become aghast. Rambo, oozing like a sponge, scowls at them.

It’s amazing that the Christian Right didn’t go ballistic over “Rambo” because the underlying message of the film is that the Christian approach to conflict resolution: humanitarian aid, peaceful co-existence, etc. is crap. The movie portrays these do-gooder Christians as arrogant, weak-kneed morons.

As one of the mercenaries later growls at the leader of the church group: “God didn't save you, we did.”

Rambo reluctantly takes the missionaries into Burma and drops them off at a peaceful village of Karen natives. This idyllic situation lasts all of five minutes before the Burmese military – under the direction of a ruthless Colonel (who sports large, oval sunglasses and ends up being a pedophile homosexual) – attacks and kills as many villagers as possible. The scene is not for the faint of heart (lots of special effects enhanced blood sprays and flying body parts).

The missionaries aren’t killed, of course, but taken prisoner so they can be tortured in creative ways (such as being devoured alive by starving hogs). Rambo, dripping wet after a rain storm, is hired by the missionary group’s reverend to lead a pack of mercenaries into Burma for a rescue mission. These jokers are bad news – and out for themselves – so it is up to Rambo to reel them in.

“There isn't one of us that doesn't want to be someplace else. But this is what we do, who we are. Live for nothing, or die for something,” Rambo mumbles at one point (wetness dripping from his forehead).

Now the real blood sport begins. The movie makes sure to justify all of the ruthless violence administered by Rambo – because the bad guys have already committed so many atrocities that the audience can only root for Rambo to kill them all.

And he does a damn good job. In fact, it's fantastically bad cinema at its finest (and dampest).

Unfortunately, “Rambo” doesn’t elevate much beyond the gore and the eye-for-an-eye mentality. What the movie does best is show the results of human growth hormone on the body of a 61-year-old actor (visualize: waterlogged).

M. Night Shyamalan: I See Bad Director

Is Indiana Jones a Misogynist?

Labels: Bad-Cinema, Movie Review, Movies, Rambo, Sylvester Stallone

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M. Night Shyamalan's Amazing Fall From Grace

It’s an ancient story: one day you’re the shiniest, most magnificent trout in the river and the next day they’re gutting you with a fillet knife and tossing your head into a bucket of guts.

Welcome to Hollywood M. Night Shyamalan.

“The Happening,” which opened last week to an onslaught of gleefully negative reviews, never stood a chance. By most accounts the film is a middle-of-the-road thriller with some spooky moments and a rather mediocre twist at the end.

New York Times film critic Manohla Dargis captured the mood perfectly:

“A fine craftsman with aspirations to the canon, this would-be auteur has, in the last few years, experienced a sensational fall from critical and commercial grace, partly through his own doing — by making bad movies and then, even after those movies failed, by continuing to feed his ego publicly — and partly through the entertainment media that, once they smell weakness, will always bite the hand they once slathered in drool.”

The reviews for “The Happening” have been vicious. Here’s Ty Burr, film critic of the Boston Globe:

“M. Night Shyamalan has metaphors to torture. Actors and audiences, too. “The Happening” asks what would happen if Planet Earth decided to reject the species bedeviling its surface, and the best it can come up with is a slack, increasingly ludicrous B-movie about people running in terror from... wind.”

Here is Justin Chang of Variety’s scathing observation:

“One might charitably describe "The Happening" as a transitional work for M. Night Shyamalan. In an attempted rebound from the critical and commercial calamity of "Lady in the Water," the writer-director has scaled back most of his characteristic touches -- the contorted horror/fantasy mythology, the "gotcha" twist ending, even his trademark cameo -- instead serving up a patchy, uninspired eco-thriller whose R rating (a first for Shyamalan) looks more like a B.O. hindrance than an artistic boon. After an initial bloom of interest, the Fox release will likely wilt quickly in the summer heat.”

It’s hard to believe that “The Sixth Sense,” the highest grossing movie of 1999 ($294 million), was nominated for six Academy Awards, including best director and best picture. Those were the days when Shyamalan was the Moby Dick of fish swimming in the Hollywood river.

So here’s the question. Is M. Night Shyamalan a bad director? Unfortunately for him there’s plenty of evidence in his body of work that “The Sixth Sense” was an aberration (kind of like Bucky Dent hitting that &$#@% homerun against the Boston Red Sox).

Shyamalan has one good movie (well, one great movie actually) and the rest, well, the rest are pretty terrible. Here’s the roll call (and it’s ugly):

Praying With Anger (1992)

An autobiographical film about a young Indian (Shyamalan) who was raised in the United States, but then returns to India on a college exchange. It’s one of those fish out of water stories that secured mediocre reviews and passed into the dustbin of Hollywood also rans without much fanfare. Film critic James Berardinelli called it “tedious because of its lack of originality,” but found glimpses of promise in the young director.

Wide Awake (1998)

A Rosie O’Donnell comedy vehicle (she plays a nun with a baseball jones). The story centers around a boy who loses his grandfather and then tries to find a sign from God that his grandpa is doing all right in heaven. It’s one of those heavy-handed tear-jerking comedies that don’t know what to do with itself. Film critic Roger Ebert gave it two stars. It says a lot that the film was made in 1995 and wasn’t released until three years later.

The Sixth Sense (1999)

There’s no doubt that “The Sixth Sense” is a brilliant psychological thriller. It stuck to the ribs of American culture to the point where the line “I see dead people” became part of the lexicon. The amazing thing about “The Sixth Sense” is where it came from. There’s no evidence in the two films Shyamalan directed beforehand that he had this kind of taut, spooky film inside him.

Unbreakable (2000)

Shyamalan’s take on the superhero origin story. Ray Pride of Salon called “Unbreakable” a soggy follow-up to “The Sixth Sense.” He’s right. The film is plodding and dense and no one seems to be having a good time. It’s the kind of film audiences want to enjoy (and kind of do because of how much they liked “The Sixth Sense”), but ultimately the film is a let down.

Signs (2002)

Probably Shyamalan’s best film after “The Sixth Sense.” It’s an alien invasion movie at the micro-level – as the viewer sees the entire takeover through the eyes of a small farming family. Yet, the movie remains too small – too micro to please. In the end, “Signs” disappoints because the audience is expecting a better pay-off. There’s too much set-up. That’s why Variety’s Todd McCarthy called it “all smoke and mirrors.”

The Village (2004)

This movie is similar to “Signs.” It is so meager and small – that viewers are left with disappointment. It’s supposed to be a monster movie – but there aren’t any monsters. A.O. Scott of the New York Times said: “It is hard to think of another filmmaker so utterly committed to the predictable manufacture of narrative surprise.” That’s a poignant point about “The Village.” It’s carefully constructed twist feels like it was built in a machine shop.

Lady in the Water (2006)

A disaster. One of the worst movies of 2006 and the winner of two Razzies: for worst director and worst supporting actor (it was also nominated for worst picture and worst screenplay). The plot has something to do with a water fairy being found in a motel swimming pool. James Berardinelli called it “the biggest misfire of M. Night Shyamalan's career.” He’s right – until, of course, “The Happening.”

The evidence in place, we have no choice but to sharpen our own fillet knife and start scraping the scales off of Shyamalan’s hide. The evidence speaks for itself – and we see a bad director.

Save Molly: 10 Great Teen Flicks from the 1980s

The 10 Superheroes with the Coolest Powers

Labels: Horror, M. Night Shyamalan, Movie Review, Movies

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