As we’ve come to expect from M. Night Shymalan, there’s a surprise ending to “The Village,” Night’s gloomy saga of a 19th Century hamlet whose superstitious inhabitants live in constant fear of flesh-eating monsters that purportedly lurk in the surrounding woods. The studio has strongly urged critics not to reveal anything that might spoil the denouement. I’ll admit I wrestled with the dilemma of whether telling readers that the final act shocker isn’t worth enduring the rest of the film for it amounts to a betrayal of trust. But if a guy’s got the arrogance to drag us through two hours of dreck for the sole purpose of springing a cheap trick just as our eyelids are about to finally cave under the weight of abject boredom, well, that guy — Shymalan — needs to be called out on it. So that’s what I’m here to do. And it’s oh so disappointing, as I — like so many of you — had high hopes for this one, certain that “Unbreakable” and “Signs” were merely an extended sophomore jinx and not a true measure of Night’s filmmaking ability. Now, it seems, the brilliant “The Sixth Sense” may have been an aberration.
On the bright side, a star is born in “The Village.” Bryce Dallas Howard, daughter of director Ron, flaunts her impressive pedigree as a fearless young blind woman who risks everything for love — which comes to her in the form of a reticent blacksmith named Lucius Hunt (Joaquin Phoenix). William Hurt and Sigourney Weaver chew up the authentic-looking scenery as two of town’s mysterious tribal elders, while a histrionic Adrien Brody — as the village idiot — does a really bad impression of Leonard DiCaprio in “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?” Apparently Brody caught the same acting bug that plagued Halle Berry in “Catwoman” (that’s what they get for kissing on the lips at the Oscars!) (Rated PG-13 for a scene of violence and frightening situations.)
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on July 30, 2004. Read the original PDF.