There never has been, nor never will be, another film quite like it.

Rating: 10/10 (18 September 2002)

SORT OF SPOILERS... I don't think they are, but you know, I don't want to spoil it for anyone. I've described a couple of scenes vaguely, but I'm pretty sure you won't understand until you see it. So read at your own risk, kinda. :)

I don't post comments very often, but sometimes a film will push me that bit further.
Signs is one of those films...
The basic story of Signs is crop circles, even the ultra-mysterious trailers revealed that much. The first scene in the film leaps straight into ol' Mel (Father Graham Hess) finding the first circles in his fields, and it goes from there. Graham lives with his two kids, Bo (Breslin) and Morgan (Culkin), and his brother Merrill (Phoenix, getting worryingly sexy now). The film is basically about them being a bit confused and scared by the circles, resulting in a climax that, as in all M. Night Shyamalan films, makes you smack your head and go "ohhhh! Now it all makes sense!".
Sounds a bit dull? Well, think again. Like, for example, American Beauty, Signs is one of those films that you know is very very good, you're just, erm, not sure why. (Ask anyone to answer the question "What is American Beauty about?" and watch with amusement as they go "Well, I don't know really....it's about this guy, and his daughter, and his wife, and his next door neighbour, and pot, and life, and death...") Of course, the plot of Signs is difficult to describe more because you don't want to give anything away than because you CAN'T describe it. Even tiny details and idiosynchrosies that appear to just be character development all interweave to form the aforementioned head-smacking ending.
The one remarkable thing I can say about Signs is that I have never ever seen a film before that has made me repeatedly laugh til I cried (think the "helmets", especially when all three are wearing them...) with the most deadpan humour known to man; has made me cry (Graham's final flashback); and has scared the living bejesus out of me (peeking under the pantry door). It was almost Rocky Horroresque in it's audience participant factor; believe me, apart from at the end of Moulin Rouge when everyone sat still for a few seconds, I have never seen English audiences seem to get into the film so much. But tonight you heard people gasp, yell "What the hell are you doing?" and in the case of one particularly annoying woman in the row behind, scream.
People believed in it. And not because run, run, the aliens are chasing Jeff and Will; or because aaah, it's the end of the world, and for some reason this means Bruce saying those immortal words "Dig dig dig, let's chew this iron bitch up!". No, it's because Night is a director who actually gets that nothing, NOTHING on screen will ever be as scary as your imagination. Except that unlike, say, Blair Witch, Night also has this little thing called a "script", which helps with the whole keeping you interested bit.
Well, this review has probably read like a mindless stream of thoughts and movie disses, and if you are still reading, well done. That's because the only thing I can say about Signs boils down to four words:
See it. RIGHT NOW.
(and if you don't laugh, cry, and jump, come round and I'll give you a tenner.)