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The Happening
Ah, yes. The latest installment in the shimmering oeuvre of noted auteur M. Night Sch Shuy Shyma Shyamalan. The Happening is an ultra thinly-wrapped essay on the merits of intelligent design a post-apocalyptic tale set in the present day Eastern seaboard of the United States. Elliot Moore, a grade-school teacher (and snappy dresser) finds himself in the middle of an unknown plague that is causing the human race to wipe itself off the face of the Earth. Without knowing how or why this is happening, Elliot finds himself racing to find the last bastion of mankind before civilization’s swan song catches up with him.
In typical fashion, M. Night Somalian helms The Happening in a manner that is instantly familiar to any of his fans out there. Since the idea of an “M. Night Fan” might in and of itself be a bit of a non sequitur, what I’m talking about is a movie that is a little like trying to slip on a pair of wool pants without any underwear; it’s slightly uncomfortable, gets worse the longer it’s on, and probably isn’t a good idea to begin with. Characters seem slightly RETARDED off, the plot feels like it DIED BEFORE FILMING STARTED isn’t quite all there, and there is an impending feeling that there is something you’re missing through the entire film. TWO HOURS OF YOUR LIFE YOU’LL NEVER GET BACK.
In an effort to help my faithful readers out, I’ll be spoiling this film a bit as I go along by giving some key insights to the story, plot, and theme from time to time. For those two people out there that actually plan on seeing this movie sober and for real at some point and want it to be a surprise when it happens, you might want to skip this review for the time being.
So anyway, New York City. People are in Central Park enjoying the day, when the wind suddenly kicks up. Crazy things start to happen; one woman decides to take up knitting, while others fall prey to sudden bouts of narcolepsy. Uptown, workers at a construction site start to notice a mass exodus of people jumping off the top of the building they are working on. M. Night Sham-a-Lam-a-Ding-Dong doesn’t want you to know why, but it’s clear what the reason for all of this madness is.
At the same time, Elliot is teaching a science class. He starts going off about bees while busting the chops of some poor kid who is unfortunate enough to look like someone who probably kicked his ass and stole his lunch money when he was a kid, but is interrupted by the principal. A staff meeting reveals that there is some serious unknown event happening; the government is calling it a terrorist attack. Media is already going nuts trying to cover the carnage, and school is cancelled immediately. Elliot does the logical thing here and starts to tell his buddy Julian about his marital woes. Like everything M. Night Sham-Wow, his timing is clearly spot-on.
Mass hysteria erupts, as the entire city tries to leave for points-elsewhere. Julian and his daughter show up at Grand Central to catch a train with Elliot and his wife, Alma. Suddenly, people start receiving frantic messages on their cell phones.
Clearly, the problem is bigger than everyone thought. Or as Elliot would put it (amazingly without a single drop of irony or sarcasm – Mark Wahlberg deserves an Oscar for pulling this line off at all), “There are forces at work beyond our understanding.”
As if on queue, Philadelphia goes nuts. Here comes that breeze again, and suddenly, people are shooting themselves in the face like they get paid to do so. (Another possibility is that these people have somehow become aware that they are in an M. Night Shmygodmakeitstop movie) Queue foreboding music.
The group makes its way onto a train, but doesn’t get far before being unceremoniously dumped off in the town of Filbert, Pennsylvania. Predictably, Elliot blows a gasket and spouts off some totally uncomfortable lines. Later, the stranded passengers enjoy some delicious peach cobbler before deciding to get the fuck out of Dodge. Elliot and company end up catching a ride with some botanists (good God is the Theme Fairy hammering us between the eyes with a fucking sledgehammer right about now or what?) who start to go off about how plants can produce toxins to repel pests and communicate with other plants as well. Wonderful. Julian heads off in the other direction without his daughter (if the world is ending, why would you want to protect your child?) to find his wife, and we learn that you should always wear your seatbelt, and that the Chrysler Corporation really needs to work on the leaky vinyl roofs on Jeep Wranglers.
Before long, we come across some bodies in the road, and a deserted Army soldier who is convinced that it is big cities and large clusters of civilizations that are affected, and suddenly I’m Googling the hell out of this film to try to find out if it was really written by Pat Robertson. (Strangely enough, I do find THIS.) There’s a realtor who suggests a small housing development would be the place to go. Why not? Who isn’t an expert at this point? I’m sure if the 16-year-old kid in the group suggested that frantic masturbation was the way to go, we’d be in the middle of an epic circle-jerk.
At this point, we get to the only part of the movie that PostieToastie will endorse (don’t blink…you’ll miss it.), as some dudes get killed by lawnmowers. Alas, things don’t improve for long, as the wind comes back, some more people lose it and kill themselves. M. Night Shyster takes this opportunity to go for the gold with Elliot and Alma by having Alma reveal that she (wait for it…) went out with this guy from work one night and (it’s coming…) totally went out and (blowjobs ain’t cheatin…) had tiramisu with him. (For the record, I have absolutely no doubt that this scene is to be taken at literal truth. Right about at this point in the film, I’m in the corner frantically licking the rubber palm tree in hopes that it will release some brain-melting chemical, and I’ll off myself with the cord from the Venetian blinds…)
After this shocking revelation, we go on a bit longer, with some more wind, and some more killings and some more thinly-veiled social commentary, and we end up in some old woman’s house. The house is very spooky, and the woman is also very spooky, and the strange doll on the bed in the guest bedroom that holds Elliot horrified and transfixed for no reason is also spooky, and so is the fact that some movie studio executive green-lighted this film to begin with. The old woman then decides to become a professional hardcore wrestler, and demonstrates her head-butting skills by kicking the shit out of her windows. (She went on to become a headline act with the Combat Zone Wrestling league; her first televised match can be seen HERE) Elliot and Alma (and Julian’s orphaned daughter, who has somehow survived this far despite not being important or integral to the film in any way) have been separated, with one in the basement of the house and the other a few-hundred yards off in an old well house of some sort. Fortunately, there is a tiny pipe between the two, enabling them to profess their love for one-another perfectly clearly. Elliot decides he’s all set with this awful situation, and decides to give it all up and head outside, evil tree-virus be damned. The vegetation decides to give him the finger by not doing anything at all. Apparently, Julian’s blind faith perfectly coincides with the end of the plague. We’re not supposed to read into that at all. Nope. Nuh-uh. Fuck me.
There’s an epilogue; Elliot and Alma have apparently adopted Julian’s suddenly well-adjusted daughter. Alma is pregnant too! Life is good! Some douchebag on TV them makes some comment about this episode being the first sign that the Earth is trying to rid itself of the ‘pest’ of humanity, and surprising absolutely no-one, we see the next episode starting in France outside of the Louvre. All is clearly not well after all, and the end of the world is nigh.
--->DJ
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