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Simply put, The Village is not as clever as
The Sixth Sense, not as artsy as Unbreakable,
and not as powerful as Signs.
It starts out with a fairly fun idea, though. The story takes
place at the end of the 19th century in a small village haunted
by creatures in the woods. Some time ago, a truce was made between
the villagers and the creatures, and neither trespass into each
other’s domain. Edward Walker (Willaim Hurt) is the village
leader, who heads a council of elders, including Alice Hunt (Sigourney
Weaver).
Romantic issues lead the lives of the younger generation. Kitty
Walker (Judy Greer) wants to marry the soft spoken Lucius Hunt
(Joaquin Pheonix), who likes Kitty’s blind sister, Ivy Walker
(Bryce Dallas Howard), who is also secretly admired by the mentally
challenged Noah Percy (Adrian Brody). Issues such as who will
marry who soon become overshadowed by the increased sightings
of the creatures and warnings that they plan on invading.
The mood is heavy, dark and somber, and effectively creates an
atmosphere of fear that settles in as time goes by. The fear is
only in name though, and we rarely actually see our fears fulfilled.
The Village doesn’t have the same level of fundamental
fright as Signs did, and
neither doesn’t it have the same level of comic relief as
the former did. It simply feels weaker on all fronts.
***Spoilers***
The use of language throughout the film baffled me. The characters
always spoke with a 19th century dialect that never felt quite
on. It was all technically correct, but it sounded a lot like
when a foreigner tries to speak English having learned it only
from textbooks. At first, I thought it was a flaw in Shyamalan’s
dialogue, but I realized it may have been there on purpose. The
villagers certainly don’t know how to speak 19th century
English correctly, it would only make sense that their language
was off. But this brings to light further question, why would
the villagers have felt the need to speak that way in the first
place? The children would have grown up not knowing the difference.
It seems the only reason for the language was to convince us.
I never really picked up on what the film’s final position
on fear was. The greatest thing we have to fear is fear itself,
the film seems to want to tell us. Because of the horrors they’ve
faced in their lives, the elders face their fears by running away
from them, by running to a place where they believe they’ll
never have to fear again. In order to maintain this utopian community,
however, they must rely on causing fear to keep everything intact.
Their greatest fears come true when they discover that bad things
can happen, even in the village. But what’s the final verdict?
Are we to believe that we must separate ourselves from the world
in order to preserve ourselves, or is any such attempt fundamentally
futile?
One position that Shyamalan makes clear is echoed from The
Sixth Sense. In Sense,
Cole learns to face his fear of ghosts by loving them, by concerning
himself with their desires. Only slightly modified, Shyamalan
tells us once again that the antidote to fear is love. Lucius
love for others makes him willing to face the dangers ahead and
then Ivy’s romantic love for Lucius that makes her willing
to travel alone through the woods.
I’ve heard all the talk about The Village’s
supposed political implications. Everyone seems to think that
the fear-induced situation is an analogy to the false fears presented
to us by the current American administration. I don’t buy
it. First of all, I don’t know how many people actually
believe that the government’s terror warning are part of
a widespread conspiracy to keep us in a state of fear so we can
continue our money-hoarding war against Iraq – and I really
don’t think that Shyamalan believes that. Bottom line, the
text doesn’t really support it. At least, to the degree
that it does, it’s very general and weak. All the talk about
scare-mongering seems to be implanted by politically motivated
left-wing critics and not from the film itself.
I’ve also heard comments to the effect of the analogy of
fear pointing towards religion. I really don’t think the
most religious filmmaker in Hollywood is going to make an anti-religion
film, and I don’t really think idea really applies to religion
at all anyways. Even though, on the surface, it certainly seems
to. Fear of hell keeps people within the boundaries, sure. But
this whole idea can extend to any situation where there is a boundary
and a consequence for crossing it. If, in any case, the consequence
is intentionally exaggerated, the situation applies. Only people
who believe that religion is a conspiracy to make people do what
they want will find a correlation with the film.
On the other hand, I must admit there’s much to say about
innocence in the film. One of the first scenes sets the tone perfectly.
Two grown girls play a childish game, and then panic when they
see a red plant – the color that attracts the monsters.
All of the younger generation are innocent, but in different ways.
Ivy and Lucious’ innocence is one of purity of heart, while
Noah’s innocence is intellectual and the innocence of Kitty
and many others is social. The social innocence isn’t a
virtue in itself, the film seems to say, but the innocence from
darkness. I honestly think The Village can be read as
a call to less innocence in the secular sense but to more innocence
in the moral sense. Hiding the bad color will not protect them,
ultimately, but loving each other enough to be willing face dangers
for each other will.
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