I watched Devil last night. Shyamalan's Devil, that is.
I can't help it. I like the guy. I like the way he's hit and miss. I like the way the critics skewer him and he still says, 'blow this. I'm still making a movie about other-worldy interlopers, loosely wrapped around a morality play... neener, neener...'
Beyond that, I just like him. So whatever he does, I'll watch it. And hopefully his financial backers bank on that fact.
The movie's about an elevator full of morally-questionable folk - none of whom deserve, necessarily, the grisly gutting that awaits most of them by the presence of Satan among them, the actual Devil, come to take their souls to the nether-regions. And yet, it calls into question our relationship with the divine and (its) nemesis, and where in the world we actually find ourselves - at the end of the day, when it's only us and the leering conscience. And that big sky and all those stars.
Where do I stand, there in the dark, when I'm the only one to Answer for the Choices I've Made?
I honestly don't know. I tumbled down the stairs the other day, but no one showed up to collect my soul, so possibly I'm doing okay, and maybe still have a few more tick marks in the column that Santa Claus takes note of, than the column that Beelezebub does.
But I'd rather listen to a jazz combo than Kum-By-Ya any day of the week.
Damn! I think we all know where that compass points..
Ah well... for now, I'm still buying Girl Scout cookies. That should count for something.