You wake up one morning and when you look in the mirror, you barely recognize the person staring back at you. There are more lines, more wrinkles and more patches of grey. You look way more tired than how you actually feel. Anyone who lives long enough will probably experience this mini-episode of body horror eventually. Old, the new thriller from M. Night Shyamalan adapted from a Swiss graphic novel, taps into that anxiety in a ruthless way.
The Philadelphia-based thriller director is known for his twist endings and uneven career, although he had a minor resurgence as of late, and here he wisely focuses on his strengths. This is a deliberately-paced film, one that gives the viewer plenty of time to consider its premise. Shyamalan’s gift for suspense means that each additional wrinkle has more emotional heft than you might expect.
Tropical resorts are a place where tourists come to forget about the trajectory of their lives, at least for a short while. Prisca (Vicky Krieps) says as much in an argument with her husband Guy (Gael García Bernal), while their two children listen. Trent (Nolan River) is a precocious six-year-old, while Maddox (Alexa Swinton) tries to protect him from their parents crumbling marriage. Soon the family make their way to a beautiful abandoned beach, one that’s isolated by large rocks on three sides, and strange things start to happen.
Bodies appear on the beach, and for some reason the family cannot leave through the sole entrance they took. The day continues, and the real horror unfolds. Everyone ages at an accelerated rate on this beach — someone suggests two years every hour — so Trent and Maddox age through childhood quickly enough that Shyamalan has different actors portray them. It’s bad enough that a six-year-old looks like he is a twenty-something by midafternoon, but soon the older beachgoers show more dangerous signs of aging. Hysteria increases almost as fast as the body count.
Almost all of Old takes place in one setting, and Shyamalan uses that to his advantage. There are few places to hide on the beach, but he can put a distance between the characters, and then have them express shock when they see each other again. The best example of this is when an eleven-year-old Trent hides under some beach towels with Kara, the daughter in another family. They’re gone for a while, and what happens when they emerge is a shocking riff on “they grow up so quickly.” Indeed, Shyamalan is pitiless in how he sees advanced age coming for his characters. Everyone experiences some crisis, and he ping pongs between them so not to dwell on any situation too long. There is an exploration of real anxieties for every age bracket out there.
Aside from Bernal and Krieps, Shyamalan populates Old with dependable character actors. Rufus Sewell stands out as Charles, an arrogant physician who experiences age-related memory loss in a matter of hours. Most of the time the characters are confused, or in denial about what happens to them. Shyamalan introduces a dose of judgment as the day continues: some lash out against their fate, while others accept it more easily. It is a shrewd way to explore the strength of someone’s character, an idea powerful enough that the actors can overcome Shyamalan’s clumsy script. Dialogue has never been Shyamalan’s strong suit — what line can you remember beyond “I see dead people”? — but the “two years per hour” conceit means there are enough new situations so it does not matter.
Shyamalan and his frequent cinematographer Mike Gioulakis use camera placement to make the beach seem inviting and miserable in equal measure. Sometimes there are clever special effects: since time moves so quickly here, it heals all wounds/cuts in a matter of seconds. Most of the time, however, the framing of the characters tells us how to feel. The camera is merciless or frenzied, using close-ups, long pans and dolly shots to suggest time slipping through everyone’s fingers. What is surprising is how he also finds room for thoughtful character moments. Guy and Prisca experience a lifetime of marriage, and amidst all this horror, they somehow end on a moment of peace.
To Shyamalan’s chagrin, he has been known for twist endings ever since The Sixth Sense. Old does not follow suit, exactly, although the final minutes have you reconsider what happened during its opening. The resolution is also where Shyamalan finds some pity. There is a “nice” ending, although a better one would follow “time comes for us all” to its natural conclusion, and be consistent with the genre. It is common for Shyamalan to case himself in a minor role. Here he plays someone who literally sets the plot into motion, then observes their suffering from a distance. It is an apt metaphor, and maybe the ending means he knows when he has had enough.
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