THE SIXTH SENSE (1999)

Ira says

Now I’ve seen ‘dead people’... movies and I’ve seen The Sixth Sense, twice before in fact. So what do you do with a film when you know the outcome; when that first (and only) possible thrill of discovery is gone and lost? Well, when it’s a good film, you still enjoy it and you still find new ways to appreciate it. Which I did albeit in a new, less frantic way.

The first thing that hits you about The Sixth Sense is the economy. Economy of the opening titling, of that chilling sound score and memorable theme motif (thank you James Newton Howard), to the economy of characters, shots, scenes, supernatural ‘presences’, and of dialogue. At a focused, non-fussy 104 minutes, Shyamalam knows what he wants to say and how he wants to say it. Using lots of close ups, clean camera work, uncluttered frames, and a series of power-packed individual scenes, each complete, well executed units in themselves, he takes you through the narrative with an alarming, engaging precision, humour, thrills and a growing sense of intrigue. And while the plot has a couple of minor question marks (why didn’t the sick Barton go tell her father what was going on if she had proof on her handy cam? Did she only watch the footage after her death?), for the most part Shyamalam’s attention to detail and lack of frills and melodrama is arresting.

There is a Hitchcockian clarity of thought, intention and images in the even, steady pace with which he tells his story; where the fantastic music and omnipresence of catholic symbols, (think churches and miniature Christ figurines, statues and Latin), bring in a richer layer of subtext. There is something lighthearted, unnerving, and startling in that first encounter between Willis and his new patient COLE (Haley Joel Osment), from the way COLE puts on his spectacles without any glass in them to the way he runs down the street, goes straight into a church and mutters incessant phrases in Latin to a group of toy soldiers lined up along a church pew. And trust me, the second thing that hits you in this one is the incredible Haley Joel Osment.

I can still see that close up of the mesmerizing, expressive young actor, whispering softly, his tiny, tender face full of fear and his eyes brimming with tears, “What are you thinking mamma?” Yikes. This little one sure isn’t a freak but I couldn’t help thinking how freaking-out playing this part could’ve been for him and of how children can really be the freakiest, most frightening things of all sometimes. How that lethal combination of innocence and evil has made some of Hollywood’s finest spook films. (An image of Danny Torrence on a tricycle from Kubrik’s The Shining springs to mind).

But even today, it’s rare to find a supernatural thriller that centers solely on the inner torment of a child without it going into ten other different directions and I liked that Shyamalam stays focused on this as his central story. Yet he’s able to hit you with the third most striking thing about the film- it’s surprises. The ones that creep up on you from behind a bathroom door, in a school corridor, under that tent, or at the stove to make your skin crawl. (Hell, the hair at the back of my neck and the tiny ones on my arm were raised pretty often here Mr. Shyamalam, does that mean ghosts were watching your film with me?). To surprises of a different kind in the writing which delineates relationships with thought and sensitivity, which has the ability to make you laugh, relax, and smile one second and jump the next, or make you admire the way a scene is shot the first second and move you to tears the next. A scene between husband and wife (Willis and his wife) early on in the film moves seamlessly from a jocular undressing sequence to the discovery of a naked, hysterical, and menacing stranger in their bathroom. The extremely memorable dinner table conversation between Cole and his mum (the excellent Toni Collette) about a repeatedly disappearing ‘bumble bee pendant’ which is shot in one long take with the camera slowly panning from left to right and moving closer in, reveals a growing sense of foreboding, stifles what COLE can’t confess and heightens the possibility of an intrusive presence during this very private moment. A child’s birthday party, a balloon floating up a spiraling staircase, some small talk between children and then an unexpected, cruel turn makes a make-believe dungeon game, frightening and suspenseful within seconds. There are several instances where the mundane turns macabre and Shyamalam handles them all well with a surprising assuredness,
As he does that final whopper at the end. Watching it this time around, I found myself of course keener to the film before the revelation happens, delighting in putting the pieces together and sometimes marveling at the careful direction. The revelation itself can never have that original impact of shock and awe it has the first time you discover it, but you relish the rest of the film in a new way.

And strangely, this time around, I was left with an image, not of that big final moment or of the scary ones, but of Collete and Osment holding each other in a car and of Willis, (delivering a mature, restrained, often funny, very heartfelt performance here) sitting beside his sleeping wife, speaking words of comfort. It’s strange that a film of this kind would’ve made me more than anything, care for all four characters so much. For that, all the above and for being on this list, Mr. Shyamalam, I will say salaam. (Your films to follow are for a different time and a different place)

Neha says

I sure didn’t have the sixth sense to guess the “Big Reveal” that defines this movie. The End, the Godfather of all climatic twists…whatever you want to call it simply blew me away at the time of its release. (Not going to spoil it for you if you yet haven’t seen this one but if you have you know exactly what I’m alluding to.) Suffice to say The Sixth Sense is one of those rare movies that do not try to manipulate or mislead you. So when the big “O” moment comes you never feel slighted. In fact you’re so intrigued by the surprising culmination that all you want to do is watch it all over again with a new, informed perspective and when you do that you get a whole different, equally arresting movie experience.

In fact on second viewing the subtleties of M. Night Shyamalan’s narrative jump out at you and maybe even goads you with it’s “It was all there but you chose not to see it” cleverness. Each scene has two valid and logical interpretations. But one gets so caught up “in the moment” that like Willis’s character, Malcolm, you only want to see what you want to see and what you want to see is how Malcolm and young Cole interpret the world, confront their “secrets” and problems, deal with the spooks and conquer their fears. It doesn’t strike you that Malcolm is wearing the same outfit throughout the film and it doesn’t occur to you that there is more to Anna’s angst than Malcolm forgetting their anniversary and coming late to dinner.

Malcolm Crowe (Bruce Willis) is a child psychologist who is haunted by the tragic death and anguish of a former patient Vincent Gray (Donnie Wahlberg). In young Cole Sear (Haley Joel Osment) he sees another Vincent in the making. Cole is socially awkward, quiet, tormented by his peers, afraid and like Vincent has scratches on his body that just might be self inflicted. Malcolm slowly begins to gain Cole’s trust and halfway into the movie Cole reveals his big scary “secret”-that he sees dead people, all around and all the time “walking around like regular people.” Within the genre, The Others is probably the only other film that focuses on a ghost’s journey of self discovery with such insight, tension and emotion.

Having said that thought, the plot works as both a genuinely gripping and suspenseful ghost story and as a two-character drama and just as Malcolm helps Cole deal with his freakish ghostly encounters, Cole helps Malcolm build bridges with his estranged wife Anna (Olivia Williams), while developing a father-son dynamic that Cole always craved for. Cole and his mother played with heart by Toni Collette have one of the most endearing onscreen mother-son relationships I’ve seen. The courage that Little Cole shows in wanting to protect his mom from this scary secret and his mom’s frustration in trying to understand her son’s strange, secretive behavior cries out to you.

Bruce Willis shows enough restraint and intensity whether frustrated, concerned, empathetic or anguished. He manages to anchor the film stoically from one end. At the other end, there’s the young Osment who has so much more than an endearing face and sad eyes. He steals the movie, giving Cole an unforced child-like vulnerability, a sense of genuine fear and an adult-like maturity as he tries to make sense of this unwanted supernatural wisdom thrust upon him, a combination that even the most experienced of actors feel challenged by.

James Newton Howard’s eerie and moody sound track; the haunting setting that’s in truth been so haunted by a long history and tragedy that in fiction it’s so natural to imagine how it would be plagued by the spectres of the dead and a gripping, brooding pace lend an atmosphere that never feels contrived, but feels so sincerely a byproduct of a story that lovingly directed, intelligently written and intensely performed.