What is more frightening? That an imminent alien invasion threatens life on Earth, or that the life we once had no longer exists? M. Night Shyamalan‘s 2002 film Signs is dressed as a science-fiction horror yarn with crop circles, shadowy figures, and ominous silences. But it asks more profound questions. The integral plot of this film is rather small – yet its themes are larger than life.
Twenty years ago, upon its release, audiences were starting to wise up to the director’s trademark act: the twist ending. And they were eating it up. But Signs subverted expectations. It was never about the big payoff, and it wasn’t really about aliens either. Signs’ initial impact on audiences may have suffered because of this daring move by Shyamalan. However, two decades later, Signs still packs an emotional punch and is arguably the director’s best film.
Graham Hess (Mel Gibson), a widower – and former – reverend, lives in a rural Pennsylvania farmhouse with his children Morgan (Rory Culkin) and Bo (Abigail Breslin) and his brother Merrill (Joaquin Phoenix). We sense there are underpinnings of something tragic shadowing the family. Something that nice families don’t talk about at the dinner table. But more on that later.
“The nerds were right.”
The film opens, and we’re immediately thrust into science fiction as Graham wakes up abruptly, finding that his children have discovered crop circles in the cornfield out back. Before long, global sightings of crop circles are found as well. The family notices strange sounds on their property; their dog becomes aggressive. The television news broadcasts are riddled with sightings of UFOs. Everyone has aliens on the brain. Some people, like Graham, think this is the end. And others, like his son Morgan, are filled with wonder.
Graham and his son are propped to be opposites, yielding pessimistic and optimistic claims on what a future involving extraterrestrials might bring. This dynamic is the lynchpin of the entire film. After a few more sightings, scary news reports, and Graham experiencing a close encounter by looking under a pantry door, the family hunkers down as the aliens invade the Earth.
While important, the film’s ending isn’t the strength of Signs. By the time this movie was released, M. Night Shyamalan had conditioned movie-goers, Pavlovian style, to expect some profound revelation via misdirection in the climax of his films. Ironically, the twist in this film was that there was no twist. Rather the importance lies in the film’s labor to project hope and faith when the lights go out – metaphorically or otherwise. The engrossing tragedy that looms over the Hess family centers around the death of Graham’s wife, Colleen (Patricia Kalember), who was killed before the events of the film when local veterinarian Ray (Shyamalan) fell asleep at the wheel, pinning her to a tree with his truck.
Signs had mixed reactions, despite raking in $400 million at the global box office. Some viewers wanted that big payoff; some thought it was too scary, some thought it was boring, and some thought it didn’t need the comedic elements. But I would argue Signs has aged well. Perhaps it was too mature for its time. The film’s heartbeat resides in keeping the quiet spaces between dialogue, letting the shots linger a little bit for either a scary or dreamy effect. These small refinements and nuances were overlooked initially, but I have since come to respect them deeply.
Whatever meaning a viewer takes away from Signs, one thing is sure – it is super creepy. The subtle musical score by James Newton Howard, a series of ominous triplets, becomes the motif of mystery and dread. I was never a fan of jump scares, but Shyamalan earns them here – long before they became a staple for weak scripts and weaker direction in horror films that came later.
“There’s a monster outside my room. May I have a glass of water?”
The integrity of the scary parts of Signs is juxtaposed smartly with the well-written characters. We care about this family. The more time we spend with them, the stronger they leap off the screen. The off beats of humor and body language are complimented well by the strength of all the actors involved. The cast is one of the smallest in a major industry film. But everyone, pardon the expression, swings away with all their might, giving us fantastic performances across the board.
Signs has a grace and tenderness that allows viewers to buy in. It challenges us to face the choices we might make if we were Graham Hess. While some overt themes of religion and higher power are sewn in throughout, the question of faith lies more in universal nature. Trust in your family, your community, and yourself. It is about looking for guidance from the most unexpected place. To see signs.
After the one-two punch of The Sixth Sense and Unbreakable, Shyamalan made a bold pivot to place the proverbial ball in the viewer’s hands and allow them to find their own goal line in the context of meaning. Coming off his previous films, Shyamalan’s ability to steer atmosphere and tone with his storytelling is undeniable in this film.
Twenty years have been kind to Signs. And Shyamalan should be proud; this might be his masterpiece.
I always really liked Signs and was disappointed it was so poorly received. I am glad that I am not alone in thinking it’s a great film; it really is my favorite from Shyamalan. I think it gets a touch heavy-handed with the messaging right at the end, but not enough to turn me off, and it really did work for me as a hopeful message. Great piece!