Split

It’s not that I didn’t want to shout “Mr. *****!” (mentioning that name would be a spoiler) while listening to the first notes of James N. Howard’s soundtrack classic in the movie. And not that I didn’t get chills down my spine at that moment. But in Split, which has practically no point or moment of surprise, this plot “extension” doesn’t serve any purpose, which is a proof that Shyamalan – despite all the wounds on his soul caused by his fall from grace in Hollywood – did not become a superman. But even so, the film was two hours pleasantly spent. Shyamalan has an irresistibly unique style, which I like to remind myself of by watching his divine trilogy. (02/07/2017)

An uncompromising thriller about everything bad being good for something. James McAvoy shines fully, supporting characters deliver adequately, and if it weren't for the fact that the script occasionally pushes too much, I would leave with nothing but applause. The subject matter, which is professionally close to me, is just sufficiently overdone at the edge of the supernatural, so it could perhaps open the eyes of a few people. M. Night Shyamalan is, to my great delight, once again being hailed by the public as the king, but I don't plan to welcome him back. Because, for me, he never left. (01/19/2017)

McAvoy is a master. And there’s girls running about with shotguns dressed in their bras… Shyamalan has returned to what he does best. Slightly chilling, weird thrillers which, due to peculiar camera work, the studio mistakenly classifies as horror movies. Split has a fine premise and, even if McAvoy has far too many people on his plate (only about four characters are important), the screenplay doesn’t go off into exaggerated descriptions of the situation – just about enough not to spoil the fun. The leading girl’s flashbacks seem slightly random, but in the conclusion they fit into the fragmented puzzle about the uncle with a liking for little girls. Shy has nothing to be ashamed about, on the contrary, this will likely hoist him onto a wave of success. Let’s hope he deals with it wisely this time. (01/22/2017)

They say Shyamalan is back with this film, but I have the feeling that he never fully left. With a few exceptions, he's still doing the same stuff: ghost stories, or at least thrillers, often with naturalistic elements, where the primary role is played for 90 percent of the film's running time by a crystallizing twist that more or less shocks at the end. But once the rules are set, it's good to stick to them. And so, when the whole film has the undertone of the reality of the laws of physics of the contemporary world, it is good to stick to them for the whole duration, because that final game-changer irritated me a lot. And this is one of the reasons why Now You See Me, which pissed off many a film fan with its digital trick escapades, was a flop. Maybe at least McAvoy will get an award for his performance, it was awesome! (01/29/2017)

The King is back in full force. While others pound it into you for two hours and go soft at the end, Shyamalan spends more than half the film escaping to comedic proprieties that are quite creepy knowing that three young girls are being held against their will in the basement. While McAvoy is cutely tripping on his tongue, or strictly driven by OCD (if the Academy wasn't so exclusive to certain genres, the Oscar nomination would have been there for him), somewhere in the back you begin to sense a creeping evil. The last half hour is pure phantasmagoria driven to the extreme, but so precisely handled cinematically that the dark vibe will knock a hole out from within your head. Anya Taylor-Joy will be a big star one day (hopefully outside the genre). PS: The bar scene isn't gratuitous - it's a confident and bold joke that harkens back to a time when some people and some things made us feel confident. (01/19/2017)