All ‘Signs’ point to a film of unrealized expectations

In theaters

SIGNS. Written and directed by M. Night Shyamalan. 120 minutes. PG-13.

It’s a twist worthy of Hitchcock.

In the same week Newsweek claimed on its cover that M. Night Shyamalan is the next Spielberg – a director best known for his artfully manipulative crowd-pleasers – Shyamalan delivered his latest film, “Signs,” an artfully manipulative misfire.

You just can’t buy that kind of irony.

The film, from Shyamalan’s own script, isn’t a total misfire.

It’s initially absorbing, a beautifully shot, well-acted B-movie with a handful of A-level moments. But as the movie unfolds and Shyamalan’s intent becomes clear, those moments too often give way to a wealth of bad decisions and unrealized expectations, all of which conspire to keep “Signs” more in line with Shyamalan’s last film, the underwhelming “Unbreakable,” than with his best film, “The Sixth Sense.”

In “Signs,” Mel Gibson is Graham Hess, a former minister who ditches the church and loses his faith after the unexpected death of his wife, Colleen (Patricia Kalember), six months before.

Living on a farm in Bucks County, Pa., Hess is trying to forget the past while raising his two children, Morgan and Bo (Rory Culkin and Abigail Breslin), with the help of his younger brother, Merrill (Joaquin Phoenix), a former minor-league baseball player.

With his characters well-grounded, Shyamalan asks them to turn to the skies as a series of strange events occur.

Out of nowhere, a gathering of mysterious crop circles appears in the cornfields surrounding Graham’s house. At first, Graham and Merrill believe the circles are a hoax, the work of a nutty neighbor, but their dogs know otherwise – they won’t stop barking – and before long CNN is reporting the news nobody wants to hear: Everyone from Bucks County to Bombay is experiencing the same phenomenon, which might be a sign of alien life to come.

Indeed, that’s the case. Soon, alien spaceships are hovering over Washington, New York, India and Mexico. What do they want? Will they attack? And if they do attack, are we prepared to fight them and still come away with our lives?

Before you can say “duck and cover,” Shyamalan is rolling in the paranoia of “The War of the Worlds,” “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” “The Birds,” “Night of the Living Dead” and the full spectrum of 1950s sci-fi cinema. It’s here, in the film’s involving first hour, that he generates his most compelling sense of dread and suspense before delivering a second half that features, among other disappointments, the director himself as a character on which a major subplot hinges.

If Shyamalan cast himself in the role as an homage to Hitchcock, who appeared fleetingly in most of his movies, it doesn’t work; Shyamalan goes too far. The moment his face fills the screen, the effect is jarring, the film is cheapened in what seems like a push for celebrity, and the spell he’s trying to cast is broken.

“Signs” never recovers from it. As Shyamalan spins toward his pat ending, which features the unbelievably melodramatic memory of Hess’ last moments with his dying wife and a predictable reconciliation with his lost faith, he tries to get under our skin, but because he chooses to leave all restraint behind in favor of forced sentiment, he only occasionally manages to break through the surface.

Grade: C+

On video and DVD

DEUCES WILD. Directed by Scott Kalvert. Written by Paul Kimatian and Christopher Gambale. 97 minutes. R.

While it’s doubtful that Scott Kalvert intended to create an instant camp classic with his hilarious film “Deuces Wild,” that’s nevertheless what he pulled off – and what a hoot.

Set on a Hollywood back lot – excuse me, set in Brooklyn, N.Y., in the summer of 1958 – the film is “West Side Story” without the songs, “The Lords of Flatbush” without the Fonz, “The Wanderers” without a map, a compass or its own way.

It’s a movie about the good-guy Deuces and the bad-guy Vipers, two rival street gangs whose swagger and strut are so incredibly exaggerated, what’s amazing about the film isn’t how bad it is, but that anyone got through it without breaking a hip.

With Stephen Dorf, Matt Dillon and Brad Renfro all coming to throws in a bloody turf war on drugs – the Vipers want to put a bong and a crack pipe in every kid’s hands – “Deuces Wild” is an eye-popping exercise in excess that hits the screen with such misguided aplomb, nobody can blame these Deuces when they eventually go wild.

Grade: D-

Christopher Smith is the Bangor Daily News film critic. His reviews appear Mondays and Fridays in Style, occasionally on E! Entertainment’s “E! News Weekend,” Tuesdays on “NEWS CENTER at 5” and Thursdays on “NEWS CENTER at 5:30” on WLBZ 2 and WCSH 6. He may be reached at BDNFilm1@aol.com.