M. Night Shyamalan can lick my nut crust.
So, I saw M. Night Shyamalan's "The Village" this weekend and I am feeling inspired to express my irritation. If you haven't seen this movie - well, don't. But if you really insist on seeing it, then don't read this review, because it will reveal plot points that you might want to be disappointed by on your own. With that said...
I don't care how many fanboys soak their shorts over him, or how swollen his ego has become, the real honest truth is that M. Night Shamalamadingdong has really only made one good film, and that was "The Sixth Sense." It was a little bit slow, but it had a great mood and great tension and a great ending. It was exceptionally creepy. Every other one of Shammy's films has sucked a stinky nut. "Unbreakable" should have been called "Unwatchable," and "Signs" started out with great potential but then proceeded to insult its audience with ludicrous gaping plot holes wider than Courtney Love's twat cavern, which easily swallowed up the finer moments of Hitchocock-esque suspense.
Still, Shammy has had enough great moments in his movies that I found myself rather looking forward to "The Village." And perhaps this is a case of poor marketing, because it was, quite frankly, advertised as a monster movie, so that's what I went in hoping for. In fact, that is exactly what I was in the mood to see, because there hasn't been a good scary monster movie in a long time.
But alas, I did not get a monster movie. Instead I got one unwanted surprise after another. Surprise! The monsters are guys in costumes. Surprise! There's a dumb fucking ending with a dumb fucking secret. The secret is SO stupid, and SO unrewarding, that it is something you might have thought of earlier while you were trying to guess what the secret would be, but then surmised that, "no, it has to be something better than that." Well. It's not. Two long, slow hours of tedious exposition and approximately three scary moments adds up to an ending SO anticlimactic that it transcends the definition of the word. It almost warrants some kind of award. The M. Night Shamalamadingdong Honorary Anticlimax Award. Of course, he's set the bar so high that no film will ever qualify to win the award, short of a new edit of "Citizen Kane" which ends before you find out who Rosebud is.
To its credit, the film is beautifully shot. The forest looks gorgeously creepy. The suspenseful moments, although painfully few and far between - are indeed scary. But you know what, Shammy? I want fucking monsters. I want big, scary, evil monsters that leap out of the shadows and kill people. That drink the fucking blood of infants, and rape women with phallic tentacles. Violence, gore, murder, horror. What I DON'T want is people in suits. What I DON'T want is a director so concerned with plot twists that he forgets that they should be satisfying rather than irritating. So aware of his reputation that he seems desperate to live up to it rather than to make a good movie, and yet so sure of his genius that he has no qualms about torturing his audience with mind-numbingly slow-paced storytelling.
I'm going to make a movie. It's called "The Village Of Scary Monsters Who Eat Babies And Kill People And Aren't Guys In Suits." It's rated X, for scenes of graphic infant mutilation and violent tentacle rape and kittens exploding. It starts out just like Shammy's movie called "The Village" (minus the tard with the big nose) but it ends in a mindless bloodbath so horrifying that you are provided with vomit bags on the way in. You can't see it unless you bring a doctor's statement that you don't have high blood pressure or other heart conditions. In fact, it's only playing on a TV in some guy's basement in Thailand, because it's banned everywhere else.
Now, would someone please recommend a good monster movie I can watch that will cleanse my palate of pretentious slop?
I don't care how many fanboys soak their shorts over him, or how swollen his ego has become, the real honest truth is that M. Night Shamalamadingdong has really only made one good film, and that was "The Sixth Sense." It was a little bit slow, but it had a great mood and great tension and a great ending. It was exceptionally creepy. Every other one of Shammy's films has sucked a stinky nut. "Unbreakable" should have been called "Unwatchable," and "Signs" started out with great potential but then proceeded to insult its audience with ludicrous gaping plot holes wider than Courtney Love's twat cavern, which easily swallowed up the finer moments of Hitchocock-esque suspense.
Still, Shammy has had enough great moments in his movies that I found myself rather looking forward to "The Village." And perhaps this is a case of poor marketing, because it was, quite frankly, advertised as a monster movie, so that's what I went in hoping for. In fact, that is exactly what I was in the mood to see, because there hasn't been a good scary monster movie in a long time.
But alas, I did not get a monster movie. Instead I got one unwanted surprise after another. Surprise! The monsters are guys in costumes. Surprise! There's a dumb fucking ending with a dumb fucking secret. The secret is SO stupid, and SO unrewarding, that it is something you might have thought of earlier while you were trying to guess what the secret would be, but then surmised that, "no, it has to be something better than that." Well. It's not. Two long, slow hours of tedious exposition and approximately three scary moments adds up to an ending SO anticlimactic that it transcends the definition of the word. It almost warrants some kind of award. The M. Night Shamalamadingdong Honorary Anticlimax Award. Of course, he's set the bar so high that no film will ever qualify to win the award, short of a new edit of "Citizen Kane" which ends before you find out who Rosebud is.
To its credit, the film is beautifully shot. The forest looks gorgeously creepy. The suspenseful moments, although painfully few and far between - are indeed scary. But you know what, Shammy? I want fucking monsters. I want big, scary, evil monsters that leap out of the shadows and kill people. That drink the fucking blood of infants, and rape women with phallic tentacles. Violence, gore, murder, horror. What I DON'T want is people in suits. What I DON'T want is a director so concerned with plot twists that he forgets that they should be satisfying rather than irritating. So aware of his reputation that he seems desperate to live up to it rather than to make a good movie, and yet so sure of his genius that he has no qualms about torturing his audience with mind-numbingly slow-paced storytelling.
I'm going to make a movie. It's called "The Village Of Scary Monsters Who Eat Babies And Kill People And Aren't Guys In Suits." It's rated X, for scenes of graphic infant mutilation and violent tentacle rape and kittens exploding. It starts out just like Shammy's movie called "The Village" (minus the tard with the big nose) but it ends in a mindless bloodbath so horrifying that you are provided with vomit bags on the way in. You can't see it unless you bring a doctor's statement that you don't have high blood pressure or other heart conditions. In fact, it's only playing on a TV in some guy's basement in Thailand, because it's banned everywhere else.
Now, would someone please recommend a good monster movie I can watch that will cleanse my palate of pretentious slop?
Labels: movies, nerd humor, rants
posted by Rob at 1:19 AM. [ permanent link ]
5 Comments:
I don't know about good, but you should watch rawhead rex. It at least has no pretentions about being good.
And although you might think so from the title, it is not a bad porno movie...
You should try Dead Birds, it's a Great movie.
The Descent was a pretty good monster movie. some gore, but not over-done. A bit like Alien, actually. Also? No twist ending. Just monsters eating people and people getting eaten by monsters.
HAHAHA KITTENS EXPLODING!! I would so watch that movie.
you should try The Host, its a Korean monster movie but make sure you watched it in Korean with English subtitles because the dubbed American voices suck.
Post a Comment
<< Home