Memories of Midnight (M. Night)

Your ‘Sixth sense’ had me hooked. Sitting in the cheapest of cinemas in Nashik, discovering that the protagonist was actually dead through the entire movie was a very novel concept. Your story telling ability seemed natural and engaging. Later when I saw your “Unbreakable” I turned into certified fan.

Of course, while most audiences flocked to your creations to wait for the final twist, I enjoyed all the reels in between. The character development in your movies was superb. But mostly it was the fluidity to your story telling that I enjoyed the most. It almost seemed like I was sitting at a campfire and someone was narrating a mysterious set of circumstances.

And no matter what pretences you used, I always saw the subtle messages that you tried to convey. In “Signs” you used invading aliens scrimmaging through corn crops as a backdrop to evoke the importance of faith in my cynical soul. “The Village” turned out to be a wonderful love story, before and after the unthinkable twist. At this point you had lost most audiences but you completely had me.

Even through “the lady and the water” I seemed convinced of your art. I began noticing the lack of character involvement but I attributed that to your actors. You started playing very obvious roles in your movies rather than reflecting in mirrors like Alfred Hitchcock. Yet, I was still fairly awed by your ability to start and finish the story.

In contrast then, “The Happening” was complete let down. The plot, the story, the performances and the lack of a subtle message unrelated to the story’s context was missing entirely. Was this a blip? Was this your outlier? Every artist must have a bad day and terrible painting? I wondered.

Since I had been your Fan for such a long time, I ended up watching the “Devil” as well. And now I am convinced that even artists can lose the art within them. Perhaps you lack inspiration or maybe you are approving your own work, but the “Devil” by far was the worst movie I have seen from your stable. And it is a shame! You could have been the Hitchcock of our times. You could have been the greatest story teller ever. But instead, you turned art into a vocation; like a forced painting, like a bad song, like a terrible book; all pieces of art by principle but certainly not in spirit.

I hope for your and my sake that your art comes back. That one day you would direct a movie not because you are proven director but because you see it like no one else can. And that you draw me back in to a dark theater, to tickle my mind as well as my eyes.

Until that time, reruns of “Signs” on AMC will have to do.