Such self-fondling can be fascinating, and Shyamalan’s narcissism is in any case less malign than Solondz’s (Giamatti’s presence provides a useful link to Storytelling) — the film climaxes with Spielberg’s E.T. and Close Encounters beans, refried as a spectacle of communal healing. Shyamalan spins this personal bedtime story lugubriously but earnestly, utterly unconcerned that the kids he improvised it for are rolling their eyes by the bedside.
Fernando F. Croce
July 27, 2006