Glass

Let’s lay some contextual foundation first: I have been a Shyamalan apologist for years, even in light of some of his more recent bombs (lookin’ at you, The Last Airbender and After Earth (and even these had heavy meddling from external sources)). I enjoyed Wide Awake back in the day, The Sixth Sense grew on me (though I still find it to be slightly overrated), I thought Signs was excellent, I found The Village to be predictable but fine, was misled by Lady in the Water’s marketing but still found it alright for what it was, was deeply disappointed by The Happening (even with the laughter it garnered) and Devil, was taken aback by how bad the aforementioned Last Airbender and After Earth turned out, felt The Visit was fine, and found Split to be good in spite of some systemic flaws. No matter how awful some of the latter-day films have gotten, I’ve stood by my assessment that Shyamalan is a highly talented filmmaker. With regard to Unbreakable, I was indifferent toward it upon initial viewing, and nothing since has come about to change my mind. That said, I thoroughly respect the film, noting the interesting symbolism at play within the narrative.

It’s the total disregard of this symbolism, among other reasons, that leads me to loathe Glass.

Thanks to the successful stealth insert of a Bruce Willis cameo at the end of Split, clearly marking the film as a sequel to Unbreakable, and the ensuing fanboy glee, further entries in the Unbreakable universe were inevitable. God forbid we have a standalone story that’s already ultimately satisfying. Glass generally picks up where Split left off, with Kevin and his multiple personalities still up to their malevolent shenanigans. As it turns out, Willis’s David Dunn has apparently been furtively fighting crime in the intervening years, and he finds Kevin in the midst of another group abduction, the same stuff we saw him doing before. Following an altercation, they’re both arrested and remanded to the same psychological hospital that’s been housing Sam Jackson’s Elijah Price (AKA “Mr. Glass”) since his arrest at the end of Unbreakable. Here, the trio is treated by a psychologist who tells them their apparent superhuman abilities are nothing more than manifestations of delusions. Of course, things get out of hand, as one might expect would happen given the concentration of crazy (not to mention the need for action, yo!).

This is the major spot where the film lost me. Sure, I was internally against the team-up as a concept, seeing it as a cash-in on both the reverence audiences hold for Unbreakable and the lucrative nature of superhero films these days (not to mention the desire for seemingly every studio, Universal in particular (who made this picture again…?), to hop aboard the cinematic universe gravy train Marvel and Warner Bros. have been suckling from for a while now), but hope was presented in this idea that these ostensible metahumans were actually loonies. A similar deconstruction of the superhero genre that took place in Unbreakable could grow here, could expand into something actually interesting. Sarah Paulson’s psychologist seems to go to great lengths to counter the “abilities” and “powers” placed before her, and she makes a solid point about the absurdity of taking comics as anything more than fictional entertainment (something that seemed hammered home by the end of Unbreakable, I might add). But fuck that noise, we don’t want thoughtful and interesting, we want more fights, more mugging from McAvoy’s multiple personalities, more action, dammit! “No meaning, only lore!” has been circulating about the internet with regard to media analysis lately, and Glass delivers on this in spades.

But while any interesting depth is being mined away from the file’s nougaty core, any hope of sense goes right out the door with it. Anya Taylor-Joy returns as the once-imprisoned Casey, and I guess she’s now sorta/kinda in love with Kevin or something? The hell? What did I miss from the ending of Split that brought this about? And since we’re in the business of taking away anything good and replacing it with layers of lore and connective tissue, Shyamalan hisself pops in, reprising his role from Unbreakable and alluding to the fact that David set him on a better path all those years ago. Gag me. The spoon grows larger in my throat when revelations pop up later on in the film that show just how connected all of the characters truly are. Gosh, I’m glad we have such rich and fulfilling lore, that definitely makes up for a lack of interesting story or substance.

(Gimme a sec here, my eyes have rolled too far back into my head. There we go.)

Speaking of revelations, we learn something about Paulson’s character, too. I’m not gonna say what it is (though I guess even mentioning that there’s any kind of twist here impacts your viewing, so sorry, I guess), but it feels so contrived, so empty, so full of calorie-free lore that it could only spring from the mind of the hack people have accused Shyamalan of being for so long. Holy hell did I get pissed off at this bit! I bet the people sitting around me wondered what I was suffering from, what with the gesticulations and all. Even better, this reveal potentially sets up future side sequels, so we can bathe in the luxurious lore of the “Eastrail 177” universe for years to come! Hooray!

This is what I feared was happening to Shyamalan as he waded through studio pictures that didn’t play to his strengths. I didn’t want to see him succumb to the allure of abandoning interesting films, flaws and all, for the overtly mainstream world of higher-class genre flicks. For me, it’s a waste of talent. I mean, Glass still has that classic M. Night feel I’ve enjoyed over the years, with the shadowy and earthy cinematography of Mike Gioulakis (who lensed It Follows, as well as Split) echoing Shyamalan’s characteristic atmosphere-building and the emphasis on characters, but the script shows so many signs of fraying. No kidding, an actual line spoken in the film referencing climactic battles from comics reads “I think they said it was referred to as ‘The Showdown’.” God, grant me the strength. Casey’s in love with Kevin, everyone’s connected in ways that just barely matter, Paulson’s got machinations, comics are real now I guess, the shudders just keep on coming.

So, I guess it’s fitting to say that Glass didn’t sit well with me. It’s well enough made, well enough acted, but its script and its stretching to fit the cinematic universe mold are just too much for me to handle. I fret over the thought of further Eastrail 177 stories, each pulpier and emptier than the last. Here’s hoping that doesn’t happen, that Glass truly did finish a trilogy, that we can get some meatier fare from Shyamalan in the coming years. Lord, don’t let Black Panther win Best Picture, things will only snowball from there…