They called me Mr Glass

Rating: 8/10 (27 February 2016)

Every little boy wants to believe that their dad is invincible. At some point in their infancy, they might very well believe in the fact. For young Joseph, it becomes a tiny spark amongst whispers of divorce and separation. We open on a conversation on a train - the woman feels a hint of flirting, and we are not sure the status of David's marriage, but he hastily apologizes for being too forward, but it is too late. This scene, and many others in the movie, showcases Shyamalan's talent for his frames within frames; the camera situated in front of the pair, peering through the slit between the seats, and roving back and forth, in an unbroken take. And then later, to demonstrate that something is wrong with the train, he uses a tiny little clue; David peering down the line and seeing something clutch for dear life onto the armrest.
It is confident visually. See another notable unbroken shot, where the camera spins around the entire hospital waiting room to emphasises the scale of the tragedy and loss of the crash, and how Shyamalan just holds it for long enough to express how awe-inspiring and mysterious that he is the sole survivor. He contrasts the dark tone of the film with these inappropriately lurid colour schemes that are slightly filtered with a griminess for realism; green for David, purple for Elijah, as if to signal their allegiance, and to nod to the comic- book influence with its bold, striking images. Opposing the modern trend of flashy, in-your-face superhero movies, it never feels the need to wow the audience with its superpowers and special effects. That comes near the end, where Shyamalan slightly overcompensates with the unmistakable imagery of the poncho billowing in the wind like a cape, and carrying Audrey up to bed like a Lois Lane to his Superman.
The human and emotional element, which normally might take a back- seat to the cool powers and effects, is exceptionally well integrated. The wife and son are not pushed to the side but brilliantly woven into the story. See the heartbreaking scene where Wright confesses she wants to start over, because she sees his miraculous survival as some sort of sign, a second chance for their marriage. It is sweet to see them nervous as they go through the first date questions all over again. And a child willing to shoot his father might be absurd in most cases, but it works here. His motive is understandable, and David's threats of moving away are the grounded reasoning that the scene needs to build to a climax, and then wither, to our relief. And yet, there is a small part of us that wants to see it happen, to provide us with some evidence and kick the film into action. We see a little hint of it initially, with how they carefully build his strength via the weightlifting scene, and how the camera seems to move with the bar, as if David was lifting the whole frame with him. But Shyamalan wisely knows that David is not ready, and postpones the reveal.
Elijah, the villain of the movie, is delicately crafted. Jackson refuses the urge to go overboard is his performance; it is slightly eccentric, but he has enough awareness to ease the tension with humour, and not be completely diabolical. Shyamalan is smart enough to make him sympathetic while not overdoing the concealed bitterness and anger of his existence - as he chases down a man, he comes to a long flight of stairs, and the soundtrack turns shrill, and haphazardly zooms out to highlight the danger of such a mundane setting to Elijah. We feel for how dangerous this is and how sick he must be of the constant hospital visits and rehab, even as we frantically want to catch the man and reveal his secret. As he falls, it is with a dizzying, painful potency. And when that classic Shyamalan plot twist is revealed, we almost feel for how he has been treated and his desperate desire to find a truer purpose. He screams that they kids used to call him 'Mr Glass', and the line between cartoonish and realism has been immaculately tread.