Would somebody please burn this man’s Directors Guild card?
M. Night Shyamalan continues to demonstrate an impressive ability to stretch a 30-minute premise to the point that it screams for mercy.
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| While young Wen (Kristen Cui) cowers behind Andrew (Ben Aldridge), and a similarly trussed-up Eric (Jonathan Groff) looks on dazedly, Leonard (Dave Bautista) once again explains — hoping to get a different answer — what is required of the three of them. |
I initially held out a bit of hope, because unlike most of Shyamalan’s original scripts, this one is based on an existing book: Paul Tremblay’s Bram Stoker Award-winning horror novel, The Cabin at the End of the World.
But no. Although Shyamalan — and co-scripters Steve Desmond and Michael Sherman — have altered key details to make these events somewhat more palatable, their film remains ridiculous. (And, based of what has been changed, I’ve no desire to read Tremblay’s book any time soon.)
Eric (Jonathan Groff), Andrew (Ben Aldridge) and their adorable 8-year-old adopted daughter Wen (Kristen Cui) are a loving, mutually devoted family unit. They’ve begun a vacation at Ye Old Isolated Cabin In The Woods (a horror flick cliché long overdue for retirement) and, thus far, life has been nothing but laughter and joy.
Then, while Wen is collecting grasshoppers one morning, she’s approached by the imposing Leonard (Dave Bautista), who — despite the wave of menace that seems to shimmer from his skin — attempts to befriend her.
Right away, we’re dealing with a modern little girl who should be well schooled about how to react when confronted with stranger danger. And while immediately running into the cabin wouldn’t change the trajectory of what follows, her failure to do so is an early indication of the daft psychology that permeates this entire film.
Moments later, Leonard is joined by three others: Sabrina (Nikki Amuka-Bird), Adriane (Abby Quinn) and Redmond (Rupert Grint). At that point, Wen does run to her parents. They barricade the doors and windows; Leonard knocks on the front door and asks that they be let inside … otherwise, they’ll simply break in.
(Then why ask permission? It’s not like they’ve vampires, who must be invited across the threshold.)
This imposing quartet soon gets inside, each of them now carrying a large, nasty and impressively lethal weapon. (Leonard prefers the term “tools.”) Eric and Andrew resist to the best of their ability, and wind up tied to chairs.
Then comes the kicker: Leonard explains that he and his comrades — strangers to each other, until the recent advent of shared visions — are messengers of the world’s impending destruction. The only way to avert this disaster, is for Eric, Andrew and Wen to willingly kill one of their number, as a loving sacrifice.
Well.
On the one hand, as Leonard explains, he and the others all led normal lives until the visions transformed them: Leonard a school sports coach, Sabrina a nurse, Adriane a restaurant line cook, Redmond a … well, Redmond has something of a shady past. All four seem emotionally tortured and heartbroken by what they’re forcing this family to do, and repeatedly insist that they won’t hurt Eric, Andrew or Wen, nor should they be frightened.
On the other hand, they could simply be lunatics.
Shyamalan establishes this set-up in a quick 15 minutes. We then spend an increasingly tedious 85 minutes en route to a thoroughly unsatisfying finale.
During which time Eric, Andrew and Wen do get hurt — repeatedly, physically and emotionally — as events proceed. What Leonard and the others soon do with their, ah, tools is atrociously violent and grisly. Who wouldn’t be terrified? Who wouldn’t think this was a vicious home invasion?
Let it be said: Subjecting a little girl to such brutal mayhem, as this story grinds along — even in a work of cinematic fiction — is beyond offensive and tasteless.
All of this takes place amid much pompous speechifying, Shyamalan having instructed cinematographers Jarin Blaschke and Lowell A. Meyer to “heighten” the long-winded oratory with tight-tight-tight close-ups on each actor. (I quickly got an accurate count of Bautista’s nose hairs.)
As I’ve said many times before, a repeated reliance on such close-ups is the hallmark of a lazy or nervous director who doesn’t trust his audience to Get The Point. (Not that there’s much of a point to get here.)
The protracted storyline is due, in part, to what Andrew — forever seeking a rational explanation for this irrational situation — believes is the actual reason for this home invasion: homophobia. Fleeting flashbacks reveal the degree to which he has been given reason for such suspicion, but it’s really just an excuse for Aldridge to overact. Badly.
Groff, in stark contrast, makes Eric beatific — almost angelic — to an equally improbable degree.
Young Cui, to her credit, does a fine job as Wen: terrified when appropriate, occasionally defiant in the illogical manner of 8-year-olds.
Bautista and the others look and sound like mannequins delivering stilted dialogue, rather than anything approaching actual characters.
Viewers with even a passing knowledge of Biblical studies will quickly deduce that Leonard and his comrades are the modern incarnation of the Book of Revelation’s Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Coming to that conclusion, during this film’s first act, magnifies the degree of impatience with which we wait for Shyamalan to get to the point, already.
And, once the dust settles, we’re left with the question that such stories never answer:
Why?
By my count, this makes at least half a dozen stinkers from Shyamalan, during the past decade-plus. (Honestly, I’m amazed he recovered from making 2010’s The Last Airbender, still one of the worst big-budget fantasies ever unleashed on an unsuspecting public.)
One dreads the thought of what he’ll do next…
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