Writer, producer,
director M. Night Shyamalan is known for two things: high concept premises and
surprise, twist endings. After his breakthrough hit The Sixth Sense, Shyamalan
has used this same approach to make Unbreakable, Signs, and now The
Village. Unfortunately, while Shyamalan appeared to be a fresh new voice
when he first broke onto the scene, each successive film is making him look
more and more like a one-trick pony, at least from a writing point of view.
To be fair, following
up a film like The Sixth Sense is no easy task. Perhaps Shyamalan would
have been wiser to go in an entirely different direction rather than attempt to
top what many believe to be the best thriller of all time. However, Shyamalan
seems determined to prove that The Sixth Sense was not a fluke but the
beginning of a long line of modern-day “Hitch*censored*ian” classics. Thus, we come
to The Village.
The Village differs
from Shyamalan’s previous films in that it is a period piece. It appears to be
set at the turn of the century in a small community called Covington that is
surrounded by a mysterious forest. The rules of the village are simple: The
people of Covington stay out of the woods and avoid using the “bad color”
(red), and the creatures that purportedly inhabit the woods refrain from
killing and eating the villagers. If ever an uneasy truce had been forged, this
one is it.
With such rigid
rules in place, it is only a matter of time before villagers begin testing them
and, eventually, breaking them outright. While the young boys of the village
are content to play a game at night where they stand on a stump with their back
to the edge of the forest until their nerves can’t take it anymore, one young
man—Lucius Hunt—has had enough of games. He approaches the elders of the
village and requests permission to cross through the woods to “the towns,”
where he hopes to obtain medicine to prevent tragedies like the funeral scene
that opens the film. Lucius feels the creatures in the forest will let him
pass, because he believes they will know his intentions are pure. But the
elders refuse to honor Lucius’ requests. Never mind the creatures, they seem
even more afraid of the towns and what will happen to anyone who goes there.
Years ago, the elders left the wickedness and corruption of the towns, vowing
never to return. They established Covington as a place to rebuild the innocence
they had lost, to create a better life for them and their children. In that
sense, the creatures are more of a blessing than a curse, serving to reinforce
Covington’s boundaries in a way the elders never could.
Frustrated with
the elders’ reticence, Lucius takes things into his own hands one day and
crosses the boundary of the village into the forest, where he plucks some
forbidden red berries from a bush. Unfortunately, his actions do not go
unnoticed by “the things that we do not speak of.” That night, Covington goes
into panic mode when a sentry spots one of the creatures slinking out of the
trees and into the village. The next morning, the villagers emerge from their
fortified homes to find red slashes painted across every door. A warning has
been issued. The villagers had better heed it or die.
Lest you think I
have spoiled the story for you, nearly all of what I have written so far is
presented in the trailer to this film. This is all still set-up, and a good one
at that. At this point, The Village just bristles with questions: What
is the nature of these creatures? How did the people of Covington ever make it
to their present location? What is the significance of the color red? What are
the towns really like? Will Lucius make a break for the towns? What will happen
to him if he does?
I will leave you
to discover the answers to these questions yourself. As for me, knowing what I
do of Shyamalan, I guessed the “surprise” ending about a third of the way into
the film, and I think I had suspicions even before that. That is not to say I
am inordinately clever, just that there were only so many ways this film could
go, and the path Shyamalan chose seemed the most likely option. If anyone else
had made this film, I doubt I would have been so quick to guess the ending.
Likely, I would have been so drawn into the story that I would have been
rewarded with that delightful “Aha!” moment that I had when the premise of The
Sixth Sense was finally revealed. Thus, my disappointment at the way
Shyamalan chose to resolve this film is not so much a comment on the structure
of the story itself, which is reasonably sound, but that it was just so
“Shyamalanian.” Perhaps he would have more success at surprising us these days
if he began writing films under an assumed name. That way we would not see him
coming.
Apart from
“predictable unpredictability,” something else Shyamalan is known for is
inserting not-so-subtle spiritual messages into his films, and The Village is
no exception. What we have here is a group of people, who have withdrawn from
the wider culture to establish their own ideal society, the boundaries of which
are reinforced by fear. Sound familiar? It should. Covington looks and feels
very much like an Amish, Mennonite or Hutterite community—if you don’t count
the bloodthirsty monsters prowling the borders, that is. The renunciation
process required to join the community demands that each elder retain a small
box of mementos from their past life to remind them of their sins, “lest they
be reborn in another form.” But sins were never meant to be boxed up. And once
the corruption and death that haunted them in the towns begins to creep into
their village, the elders of Covington come to realize that sin is not in the
towns, it is in them. Running away from their past or trying to stuff it in a
box will not solve anything. Sin thrives in fear and secrecy. Thus, the only
way to overcome sin is to bring it out into the open, confess it, and then
embrace the freedom that follows.
Despite a golden
opportunity to do just that; the elders choose to maintain the façade of their
existence instead. While they realize doing so may prevent them and their
children from embracing life to the fullest, better that than having to return
to the towns and attempt to be salt and light in a society that repudiates all
they hold dear.
It was difficult
to watch the elders make such a decision. But as I did, I could not help but
think of how many times we Christians have done exactly the same thing. Rather
than work to transform society from the inside, as we have been called, we have
withdrawn from it into segregated communities dominated by fear and control.
Like the elders, we have chosen a lesser existence rather than risk being
polluted or rejected by the world. However, also like the elders, we must
realize that sin is not “out there.” It is right here, in us. Only when we are
able to face that fact and bring our secrets into the light will we truly
become the people God has called us to be.