Glass (2019) – Film Review
I’ll be the first to admit this: My expectations for Glass were pretty high, even before the trailers dropped. Unbreakable is one of M. Night Shyamalan’s first works—riding the coat-tails of The Sixth Sense, to be sure, but a solid film, in its own merit. One of a good number, before “the crash”. Congruently, 2016 (or 2017, depending on what source is referenced) gave us Split—a stand-alone terror piece that hinted at something more happening behind the scenes—a true awakening of real-world “superheroes”, for lack of a better term…and practically no one saw the mid-credits twist of Bruce Willis’s David Dunn showing up as sequel-bait. All that on the table, this had to be the Shyamalan movie to pull him back from his rut—the one to resurrect him as not only a student of the masters—Hitchcock, chief among those inspirations—but an icon, in his own right.
D.W. Griffith was the author of the “last-minute save”. Shyamalan is a modern-day auteur with a penchant for climactic twists which totally reshape the audience’s perspective, and subvert our understanding of face-value images and text.
Once again, he has achieved this with Glass.
While we’re on the subject of twists…I’m still a little thrown by one of them. Yes; here, we’re not tossed one, not two, but three twists! Clearly, Shyamalan has had this in his head for a long time, working out the fine details and getting all his pieces in place for this big to-do—his first real cross-over event of his relatively-short career. Is this a “Shyamalan-Verse” situation? I don’t think so—just two well-done IPs that happen to fit well together, narratively. Narrative-wise, too, we get great progressions of not only David and Kevin (James McAvoy from Split)’s arcs, but also Elijah Price—Mr. Glass (Samuel L. Jackson), himself. Each are phenomenal; all lend their own iconic talents to these characters, giving them life and color—clear, defined roles, mantra, and goals. Honestly, there is more characterization here (told through the oft-hit-and-miss flashback mode, interestingly) than a lot of other ensemble films of its kind. It’s not all about the inevitable showdown between Kevin and David—or even Price and Dunn’s unfinished business—but what these men mean in an ever-changing, very likely not-what-it-seems world. Nice to see other returning faces, too—including the director’s own gratuitous cameo as…the same guy from the last film, I’d imagine(?). Some of the make-up work is a little janky—especially on Charlayne Woodard, as Elijah’s aging mother—and some of the cast aren’t in it enough; Casey (portrayed by the always-lovely-to-watch Anya Taylor-Joy), from the last film, for example—maybe…all of 20 minutes is hers. Shameful…
Also, on that note, we see the introduction of Sarah Paulson’s Dr. Staple, whom—unlike Betty Buckley’s like psychologist character from Split—wishes to challenge, even debunk these three men’s “delusions of grandeur”, and prove to them they are not, in fact, real-life superheroes. While a fascinating premise, she seemed…phoned-in, at times. Paulson’s usually-fantastic command of the camera’s attention and charisma are gone, replaced with a hollow droning, sometimes, of dialogue that could’ve easily been shown to her on off-camera cue-cards. I wasn’t convinced—save only in a sequence or two—that she was really invested. Maybe one of those later-film twists I mentioned lends some credence to this—and, knowing what I do now, a second viewing is warranted. Natalie Portman would’ve been a good choice, too…
The ultimate message of not being confined to a label (the tag-line of the film is, literally, “You Cannot Contain What You Are”) comes through, in the end. Ina somewhat-political stance, Elijah states (and I’m paraphrasing here), “We are capable of amazing things—it is they who would seek to tell us we are normal, like them.” The third and final twist is a testament to this—one that sets the story up for further chapters, down the line, but the possibilities presented, therein, are enough to leave us astonished.
The camerawork is solid, too. Shyamalan has long since proven himself to be a master behind the camera, as he is on the page, but there are shots and angles in this film, in particular, that resonated with me. He can evoke more emotion and tell more about somebody in a single shot than others can do in a whole bout of dialogue, and that’s an incredible gift. I’m mad I had to get up for a bathroom break, around the 40-minute mark, but, quick as I was, there was a “recap” sequence happening upon my return. Some of James Newton Howard’s work is on display—from Unbreakable—but West Dylan Thordson (the composer on Split) blends the old with the new perfectly, making for some truly-tense moments, when accompanied by the action on-screen.
All-in-all, I can say I was happy with Glass. All three of our main cast’s arcs are brought to fruition, a good story is told—and isn’t the sprawling mess it could’ve easily turned into—while keeping the possibilities open for the future, both for this storyline and its director.
Final ‘Risk Assessment: ****/*
