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SONGS
OF INNOCENCE AND EXPERIENCE
FURTHER
COMMENTS ON THE VILLAGE
NB
- CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS
The
family - and therefore the "wildlife preserve" - is called Walker
because Walker is George W Bush's middle name. During Shyamalan's teasing
cameo in the park-rangers' office - "we maintain and protect the
border" he shows himself leafing through the Philadelphia Examiner
and reading a story about 19 American soldiers dying "overseas".
Shyamalan's pictures are seldom as complex as they may first appear, and
The Village can thus be taken a fairly bald allegory for the climate
of fear whipped up by Walker and company (and companies) - and a fascinating
fuure double-bill partner for Michael Moore's Fahrenheit
9/11.
See also The
Truman Show, The Wicker Man: the crazed, misguided idealism of Hurt's
Walker standing in the lineage of Ed Harris's Christof and Christopher
Lee's Lord Summerisle. Though The Village picture's basic equation
remains Witness + Dogville (Howard
replaces Nicole Kidman in upcoming Dogville prequel Manderlay.)
Further reading: Shirley Jackson's short story 'The Lottery', Tim Burton's
Sleepy Hollow, Alejandro Amenabar's The
Others. The difference being, all of these predecessors hang together
under analysis. Why can't The Village make similarly solid sense?
Walker and
the others must have exiled themselves to The Village in the early 1970s
- before the birth of their children, the oldest of whom are the thirtyish-looking
Kitty Walker (Judy Greer), Noah Percy and Lucius Hunt. So why would they
go to the bother of pretending that they were living in the 1860s? Couldn't
they have had this artificially "innocent" community without
adopting old-world modes of speech, dress, etc. Wouldn't they just have
created a Kibbutz? And how handy that history-professor Walker hails from
such a mega-rich family! The rationale for this rickety background would
seem to be more dramatic than realistic: it gives Shyamalan the chance
to craft a better, twistier, more surprising story.
Shyamalan
shows signs that he realises the script doesn't really hang together -
he clumsily inserts a line to explain how aeroplanes don't fly over the
preserve, and it's only moderately convincing. Which is much more than
can be said about the ludicrous business involving Noah Percy and the
'creature suit' he oh-so-handily discovers under the floorboards of the
'Quiet Room.' And how sloppy to have 'crazy' Noah the one responsible
for the animal-skinnings, and for knifing poor Lucius in order to kick
Shyamalan's plot along towards its lofty goals.
The attack
on Lucius is a breathtaking moment - but the whole 'twist business' is
becoming Shyamalan's downfall. After The Sixth Sense and Unbreakable,
he seemed keen to break different ground - the only twist in Signs
is that the picture isn't much good. But it did much better box-office
than the vastly superior Unbreakable. Early word soon got out that
The Village - originally announced as The Woods - was a
return to twist country. Which immediately set everyone puzzling.... The
isolated-community angle was surely the give-away: the 'monsters' would
perhaps turn out to be modern-day Americans. Or perhaps they'd be aliens
and the setting, while ostensibly Earth, would turn out to be on another
planet - as in the seminal 1964 Outer Limits episode A Feasibility
Study.
It's clear
from the start in The Village that All Is Not What It Seems. Though
reference is made to 'prayers', this "1897" American community
is noticeably lacking in a church or any clerics. There are no shops (are
they supposed to be anti-capitalist?), no police (anarchist?), no electricity,
no doctors. This last element is, of course, what sends Ivy on her perilous
quest - but why didn't they foresee the problems a lack of medical supplies
and expertise would present? Why does Edward send a blind girl out through
the forest? Why doesn't he just go himself? How did he know she wouldn't
discover the truth?
Is the picture
about her faith in herself and Lucius, or about Walker's faith
in The Village? That's probably the philosophical nub of the whole thing.
But it's hard to contemplate such weighty questions when your mind keeps
wondering about stuff that would work fine in a fable, but not in film.
Such as where do they get their hats from? And their pianos? Who tunes
them? Who makes all that paint?
13-14. 8.
04
by Neil
Young
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