A Melancholy Hero for Mediocre Times
Not entirely successful and sometimes just downright silly, Unbreakable opens with Willis having just survived a train crash that's killed an ungodly amount of people. With not a scratch on him, Willis stares dumbly at the emergency room doctor as he explains the many reasons why he should not have lived through that disaster. Seemingly the ultimate survivor, Willis begins to rifle through his memories of the past and slowly realizes he's never taken a sick-day, never sustained any kind of injury and has never even had a cold. It's an endlessly appealing premise that can literally lead anywhere. The fact that it actually has to is perhaps my most unfair criticism of the film: Getting to the film's resolution is much more fun than being there. In Shyamalan's melancholy world, mystery is everything and too many facts shatter the spell, something all filmmakers know is not unbreakable...
Refreshingly blue collar and un-extraordinary, Willis' plainspoken character is seemingly no more Superman than I, and he's introduced to us surrounded by a very believable reality. Stumping through a lower-level security job and estranged from his wife (an unrecognizable and well-done turn by Robin Wright), Willis' sad life should be identifiable to anyone familiar with the middle-class lifestyle that seems to consist more of working and fixing the house than living or sleeping. This stasis is interrupted by Elijah (Samuel L. Jackson), a stranger who seems to know more about Willis' condition than he and who leaves him notes alluding to such. Elijah's eventual explanation, that Willis is a modern day superhero for our "mediocre times," is rejected by both him and us; it's a blindside the film almost doesn't recover from.
It's here that the film starts to falter as we suddenly realize we're not watching a supernatural drama at all but a fable (and a simplistic one at that). In a whacked-out performance of a man who's bones are as brittle as glass, Samuel L. Jackson's every scene threatens to derail the film's integrity and hard-earned realistic milieu. His constant insistence that Willis is a superhero and, worse, that he start acting like one, is, quite frankly, ridiculous; this film stops dead whenever Jackson picks up a comic book. Spielberg, whose films are obviously often aped here, could get away with something like this. Maybe. Shyamalan, whose style is darker in both look and themes, is no Spielberg. Yet.
Willis fares better than Jackson if only because he moves less and is therefore less conspicuous. At times, though, I wondered if he was even awake. Perhaps tired of our perpetual put down of the smirk, Willis goes the entire film sans past crutches like the clever comeback or Michael Keaton-ish raised-eyebrows. In fact, he quietly drifts through the movie with hardly any presence at all. In many scenes, we view him from behind as he interacts with others and the lack of both visual and verbal input from him often makes us feel as though he's not there at all, that we're being shown the other actors' audition tapes. His character is one of spoken ideals, not action. He points out often what he thinks is right or wrong, good or bad but rarely do we see him act on these beliefs.
When, at film's end, he does actually implement the beginnings of an agenda, this sequence of scenes is a winner if only by default. Our stomachs constrict as we watch Willis first identify and then follow an uber-creep to his latest victims' home and our sense of dread multiplies with every step deeper into the house he takes. But even this sequence has it's drawbacks; it's confusingly shot and arranged and I was never quite sure who was where in the house. Obviously, we're meant to be as disoriented and off-kilter as Willis is in exploring the wrongfully appropriated habitat of a very bad man. But when different characters kept appearing on different floors, I wished the usually meticulous Shyamalan had taken a bit more care in the shots' arrangement.
The film also seems to have no ending. When we finally arrive at what we expect to be a resolution or confrontation, the scene freezes and we're given two short paragraphs explaining what eventually went on to happen. This is fine for when the described events are either unfilmable ("John went on to live 100 more years, fought in two wars, had five wives and ten kids.") or intended strictly to strike one last emotional cord (jokey in Animal House or melancholia in American Graffiti) as we're rising from our seats. But such is not the case here and the film just comes to a halt, as if all involved suddenly arrived at clock-out time. And so we think back and reevaluate what we were given to work with and, truth be told, the movie's simplistic threads and themes don't hold much weight or water under serious scrutiny. In fact, the film would almost be considered childish if it weren't for the strikingly realistic crime scenes, something I thought was one of the film's biggest strengths. The criminals we're exposed to here are taken directly from yesterday's newspaper and, again, I'm impressed by Shyamalan's unwillingness to soften his vision for that lighter MPAA rating and the wider audience it would have brought in. Rapists, child molesters and necrophiliacs abound and their presentation to us chills us to the bone.
Especially disturbing is one quiet scene detailing a criminal's entrance into his victim's home right through the front door that is at once highly believable and creepy as all get-out. Yes, I thought to myself nodding, this has to be exactly how these kinds of crimes start everyday. A note to anyone reading this: Don't knock on my door unannounced because I now, after seeing this film, simply will not answer. On this request I remain unflappable...
Despite it's flaws, Unbreakable contains some serious reasons to recommend it. I enjoyed watching the film's pieces fall into place with an almost audible click. Jackson and his mother's spiels about classic comic character's characteristics seem silly and superfluous at first but eventually reveal themselves to have a point (yes, Jackson's hair looks like that for a reason). I liked the evolution of Willis' "superhero" costume (never has the stenciled word SECURITY on the back of someone's rain slicker been more appropriate).
There's also two scenes contained within that will be entered into the history books. The first is when Willis, who's just recently been told of his telekinetic powers, enters a train station and allows himself to "read" all those around him. The quick flashes of the crimes of all whom pass him are so expertly and clearly presented to us that this scene alone begs to be discussed for hours on end and is worth the price of admission alone. Whom, after suddenly finding out that you possess super-human powers, do you exactly go after? Do you waste your time apprehending the thief who stole a piece of jewelry last night or do you wait for someone guilty of something worse? Along the same line of thought, do you choose to bring to justice someone who recently raped someone but might never again break the law?
Which criminals, exactly, should one spend time chasing? The decision Willis eventually makes and his apprehension of such is also excellently presented: Non-violent but also not taking any crap, Willis' behavior in the film's one action scene is a keeper.
I also loved the scene in which Willis' son attempts to prove to him that yes, Willis is different from the rest of us. The fact that the son, in trying to show his father exactly how special he really is, is maybe willing to kill his own father will resonate long in my mind. The scene both horrifies and amuses us ("If you don't put that gun down right now you're going to be in really big trouble!"); it's honestly the best five minutes I've spent at the cinema this year. The scene's ending, in which all who are still standing fall to the floor weeping, touched me in a way that I can't even begin to verbalize.
Forget this film's title. Considering Shyamalan's speed towards when he might offer us a perfect film, I'd have called it "Unbrakable." My advice? Learn how to pronounce his name. If you're a movie-buff, you'll need to pronounce it the day after an Oscar telecast at the water cooler sometime soon. My final verdict: an ambitious near-miss.
December 10, 2000
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