Unbreakable is, in my eyes, one of the most underrated films ever made, M. Night Shyamalan's follow-up to The Sixth Sense that starred Bruce Willis as the sole survivor of a deadly train crash, soon discovering that he has incredible strength and resiliency. It was a very grounded, but progressively fantastical deconstruction and celebration of vintage comic book tropes and stories, and featured some of the best performances of Willis', and especially Samuel L. Jackson's career. Back then, Shyamalan had intentions to turn the film into a trilogy, but as he turned to other films and a long slump, that intention seemed unlikely.
That is, until that fire was stoked yet again with Split, that starred a virtuoso James McAvoy as a man with 24 distinct personalities, and its last scene revealed itself to be set within the Unbreakable universe. Two years later, we finally have the culmination of his vision, the crossover Glass that acts as the final installment of his trilogy, as the shattered and unshattered clash in the ultimate battle of good vs evil. But is it the culmination that we really wanted?
Security manager David Dunn (Bruce Willis) has spent years protecting the streets of Philadelphia as his poncho-clad alter ego the Overseer, and following the events of Split, is on the hunt for the Horde, the 24 distinct personalities within Kevin Wendell Crumb (James McAvoy). Following their fateful altercation, they're placed within an institution under the watchful eye of Dr. Ellie Staple (Sarah Paulson), a psychiatrist specializing in patients with delusions of grandeur. It also turns out that Elijah Price, aka. Mr. Glass (Samuel L. Jackson) resides within the same institution, and as the three distinct and powerful individuals stir inside their cells, soon their fates may lead them to clash, and reveal themselves to the world.
Off the bat, trying to blend the sensibilities of the two prior films was going to be a tough challenge. Both Unbreakable and Split may have leaned heavily into their fantastical nature, but they're of two very different tonal natures, Unbreakable being more overtly comic book-centric, with Split as the more claustrophobic horror cousin. But in execution, the effort with Glass succeeds, at least initially it does, before its holes begin to pile up in the second half.
Glass' greatest pleasures come early on, as we find ourselves picking up with most of the characters having naturally adjusted to their new settings. David is now the manager of a security shop, with his son Joseph (reprised by Spencer Treat Clark) helping him in his nightly street ventures as the Overseer, and dishing out vigilante justice. Meanwhile, the Horde within Kevin continues their habitual sacrifice of the unbroken and unsuffering, as satiation for the almighty Beast. Some of these early stretches feature some of Shyamalan's most inspired direction in years, including the genuinely intense showdown between Dunn and the Beast, before the two find themselves captured and locked within Raven Hill mental hospital.
And I hope you're okay with that, because a hefty chunk of the film is going to be like that. Following its bigger opening thrills, Glass takes a deliberately minimalist approach by cutting back to the claustrophobic constriction of Split, largely keeping itself contained within the hospital and the patient cells. And early on, that touch is very effective, as we see the effects that the stay inflicts on them, as David's cell is rigged with sprayers exploiting his crippling water weakness, while Kevin's is rigged with blinding strobes to deter his more violent personas away from "the light." And despite being a repetitive exposition machine, Sarah Paulson proves a commanding watcher, with potentially sinister intentions and delights behind her actions, as she tries to debunk her patients' beliefs that they are greater than human.
Despite being arguably the least impressive of the main three, Bruce Willis has effortlessly stepped back in without missing a beat. Carrying on from the original Unbreakable, David has naturally adjusted to his unofficial protector position, but while his body may remain unbreakable, his spirit may not have it so easy. Even as such a stoic and powerful presence, he's still as vulnerable a figure as ever, still grieving the loss of his wife Audrey, and over the course of the film begins to question if what he's doing has amounted to much good, or whether or not his abilities are even real, or if it's all an elaborate fantasy. And while that one foot in reality is interesting, I did find it quite odd how the film tried to veer it into that level of discussion, especially having less relevance given the prior films had pretty definitively debunked the notion that any of this wasn't actually happening.
Elsewhere also sees the return of Samuel L. Jackson as mastermind Mr. Glass, who himself is swinging back in action, although it takes a while for that to happen. For a good half of the film, Elijah is left in a catatonic state, under a number of sedatives to quell his silver tongue and hyper-intelligence. Given that he's the title character, it does get somewhat tiresome waiting for him to grab the spotlight, but when he does, he steals the show. Jackson is clearly enjoying being back, and taking a break from the MCU by playing the villain for a change, at which he relishes the sinister manipulation pulling the strings, and keeping other parties guessing while his chess pieces take position. Even if much of his dialogue resorts to him evoking endless similarities to his beloved comics ("This is where the bad guys team up" and "all the characters converge here"), he still proves an enjoyable asset to have.
Whatever their strengths, however, they are utterly dwarfed by James McAvoy, continuing his literal one-man-show in stellar fashion, as he should, considering he is pretty much the star of the show. McAvoy gets by far the most screentime to himself, continuing to walk his tricky tightrope balancing act in portraying the complex DID symptoms of Kevin, and the ongoing war between the voices in his head. Once again, McAvoy effortlessly balances between the depressing tragedy of a victimized man at the hands of abuse, seeking to show Kevin and the Horde as fully fleshed out characters. More of his inner personalities get the light this time, some with distinct accents and knowledge, some speaking in foreign languages, and like the first film, it's a credit to McAvoy's intense physicality that each of them are so distinctly characterized, that one can guess who holds the light merely by his mannerisms and body language. But there's also humor to be mined from the oddities of his fellow personas, especially those of the perpetually 9-year-old Hedwig, who's traded Kanye for Drake this time around. Also aiding McAvoy is the return of Anya Taylor-Joy's Casey, having finally left her abusive uncle's clutches and living happily with a foster family, but having developed an odd respect and compassion for Kevin and the Horde, that acts as one of the film's best emotional anchors.
Honestly, for much of the film, I was really on board, given how tightly focused the first half is, as well as a number of effective sequences... but then the second half played out, and it started to lose that good will.
With much of the film taking place within the hospital and its cells, Glass gets very repetitive after a while, keeping the characters separated and locked up for long stretches when more interaction may have been appreciated, and on the whole it begins to feel cheap. Produced on a budget of $20 million, the action is saved for only the opening and closing acts, leaving its middle act comparatively barren. In fact, that desire to keep costs down even shows through the integration of deleted scenes from Unbreakable, given new context for the new film. Somehow its two hour length manages to feel both overlong, and yet lacking the necessary time to let its pieces move. It begins to feel very inconsistent as its later stretches take shape, which did hurt my enjoyment somewhat.
But that is nothing compared to the final fifteen minutes. First of all, its final set-piece, while a good idea on paper, feels positively limp and limited in its execution. Mainly, it boils down to a couple of people punching each other, with brief soliloquies breaking the silence every now and then. But the real insult is the series of final twists. Without giving anything away, and that's hard given how much it annoyed me, it caps itself off with another classic series of comic book tropes, and some tricky diversion that many may miss on first viewing. But I was livid with these decisions, not only because they began to feel more obvious the longer the film went on, and not only because they were absolutely ridiculous in execution (even intentionally, it's still ludicrous), but worst of all, they almost completely squander and undermine the effects and good will of its prior entries, making them feel irrelevant in hindsight. I still don't believe that this is the note they decided to end the trilogy on, and the way that this film co-exists with its prior entries reminded me a bit of Alien: Covenant, and its similarly misjudged story expansions.
On the whole, while I have some serious misgivings on the film, I still found a lot to like, and some to love in Glass, which is still one of Shyamalan's best films in recent memory (more by default than by achievement). But I wish the film hadn't ended on such a whimper, and in doing so, it honestly exacerbated earlier issues as a result, making it an enjoyable, and yet still heavily flawed film, etc. My first 2019 experience is also my first disappointment.
**1/2 / *****
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