wish you were here

I am massively tired. That kind of fatigued that even when you get enough sleep, you just feel run over by a band of horses. But, I’m here. I’ve been doing stuff. A little laundry. A little cleaning. A little Final Fantasy X-2. With the internets down at the house it’s been a pain in the ass. I had to come down to ReJavaNate early just to get something done. (Like this.)

Yesterday I spent getting some sun and swimming with the nephews at my brother’s house. I almost didn’t want to get out of the water. And maybe I shouldn’t have, because Brett and I went to go see Lady in the Water.

Jesus. Okay. So let me just preface by saying that I loved The Sixth Sense for very personal reasons: it came out the same year my mother passed away, so watching it was an emotional experience for me, as hokey as it was in parts. I stuck with M. Night with Unbreakable, but Signs I couldn’t stand. And I’m not gonna lie, I was intrigued with The Village, but I wished it had more of something to say than building up to a twist ending. All in all, I was willing to give this flick a chance, and I’ll tell you why: I love bedtime stories. I love alternate fairy tales. I love retelling of ancient tales in a modern context, how characters that are “normal people” are thrust into weird and extraordinary situations. It’s a type of urban fantasy that I love to read (and write).

But how this piece of melodramatic megalomania made it to the screen is beyond my comprehension. Seriously. Thank god Paul Giamatti was in this, ’cause I was ready to walk out of a movie for the first time in my life. He is the only good character (and actor) in the whole 2 hours. Wait, let me back up: Freddy Rodriguez (who I already adore from the series Sex Feet Under) as the tenant trying to weightlift only one arm in a “scientific experiment” was small but brilliant.

The setup was great: a little apartment complex in Pennsylvania, a state full of weird people already; a superintendent that was bumbly but nice (complete with stuttering problem, which I thought was touching but people genuinely laughed at during the beginning of the flick); a rainbow’s cast of tenants all with their quirks and idiosyncracies; a pretty girl from Somewhere Else; and some freaky-ass shit in the forest. Cool. I can see all different kinds of things going on here.

And then there’s Bryce Dallas Howard as Story the Nymph. No thanks. It’s like she’s some kind of swap meet Molly Ringwald trying to become a mallrat. That shit don’t fly. Go back to being a mediocre director’s daughter. And by that I mean a daughter of a mediocre director.

But that didn’t compare to the worst part of the movie. Shyamalan cast HIMSELF as a writer working on a manuscript, the writer Story was looking for, who is the vessel for change in the world. WTF? Are you serious? Look, I can see that maybe Night feels like he’s affected change in the way movies are watched, that he’s become the guy who writes the “twist” endings, that he’s come up with some great ideas. But the problem is, his execution has been pretty crap from the beginning, and it doesn’t seem to be ending here. Sure, I can understand he’s put himself in every movie he’s in, but he’s only had 2 lines. Except in this one he’s got a good half hour of screentime altogether. Why? ‘Cause he’s a dick? I would’ve forgiven the rest of the flick’s imperfections if for this one piece of idiotic casting.

Thanks for bringing storytelling down further into the toilet, Night. Good job on that one, mate.

I mean, I only ended up in the short film I wrote because we couldn’t get another actor in an hour. Please, people. Pay attention to your ego.

Yeah, I need to go do some writing now.