Doch, ich mach das. Und das trotz dieses vernichtenden Reviews, das praktisch ausschließlich aus Spoilern besteht, weil der Autor den Leuten den Film ersparen will. Nobles Vorhaben, aber ich sehe ihn mir trotzdem an, auch wenn M. Night Shyamalans Karriere mit diesem Film wohl im negativen Bereich angekommen sein dürfte. Jedenfalls: das Review ist großartig, ich liege hier vor Lachen unterm Tisch.
5. But enough about the boring interpersonal melodrama: On to the boring arboreal genocide! Each time the airborne toxin strikes, everyone ceases what they were doing and freezes in their tracks for a moment. It took several such episodes before I stopped anticipating that they’d commence tapping their feet in unison, as in the beginning of a big musical ensemble number.
6. Alas, there’s no singing. But the methods of suicide chosen often seem chosen for their entertainment value, in particular: the man who meticulously starts an industrial mower and then lies down in front of it; the woman who wanders around a house methodically smashing her head through windows until she embeds enough glass in her skull to keel over; and, of course, the zoo lion keeper who invites his charges to bite off his arms so he can stand around, Black Knight-like, spraying blood from the stumps.
7. Elliot, Alma, and Jess flee from Philadelphia to a series of smaller towns and ultimately the rural countryside. This makes sense in the movie’s nonsensical context– the nation’s trees are somehow “targeting” big cities first and then smaller and smaller populations. But it seems more than a little unhinged that our heroes’ response to the revelation that the trees are trying to kill them is to head into the forest.
8. Equally odd is their insistence, even though they’ve known from the beginning that the deadly nerve agent is airborne, on spending as much time as possible outdoors. When fleeing by car, they leave the windows rolled down; anytime they want to look at a map or discuss what to do next they get out of the car to do so. It never seems to occur to any of the protagonists that they should get inside somewhere and tape the windows and doors –even though this is the only strategy we’ve seen work for anyone else. Eighty minutes into a 90-minute movie, Alma and Jess are still sitting in a small guest house with all the doors and windows open. When Elliot, who’s just watched someone fall victim to the toxin nearby screams, “Close the windows and the doors!” Alma innocently inquires “Why?”
9. Since the threat driving the movie is a colorless agent in the air, Shyamalan has nothing, really, to dramatize visually. He solves this by showing a strong wind every time the deadly agent appears. There are two problems with this: No matter how biochemically sophisticated the trees have become, it seems rather unlikely that they’d be able to control the weather. And, insofar as wind could represent anything in the context of the movie, it would be hope, not danger, as strong winds would disperse the airborne toxin rather than, as Shyamalan somehow imagines, intensify it. Still, we gets leaves blowing every time people are going to die, and a hilarious scene where Elliot et al. are running across a field trying to outrace the wind. It’s like the climax of Twister, without the twister.