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a dense thriller that has the ambition to transform into something else (or much more?) and by that loses it in the second half.
if you expect any commentary on the newly revived pop boom of Taylor Swiftean measurements you're wrong here - Shyamalan apparently only wanted to boost the career of his daughter. the uncritical and affirmative look doesn't matter though cause it's really much more about being a homage to 70s/80s entrapment thrillers with a potent anti-hero, a couple of plot holes and a lot of fun seeing former sex symbol Josh Hartnett (of all people) trying to escape in this mission impossible.
then the setting changes and the aforementioned plot holes become gaping and glaring ones in loch ness size. the stupidity of this first draft screenplay is a bit too overwhelming, even if the film stays fun in his unwanted ridiculousness. still fascinating that apparently no one on set intervenes when M Night has his crazy visions and seems to convert them without further ado.
next time I hope Hartnett gets a Michael Myers storyline written onto his persona, including a mean serial killer mask. I mean if you go bonkers just stand by your choice and enter the choo choo train the audience is sitting on already anyway.
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