Old hat tale hits a new low

Old (M,108 mins) Directed by M Night Shyamalan Reviewed by James Croot ★

It has becoming increasingly clear that the greatest trick M Night Shyamalan ever pulled was convincing us he had another Sixth Sense in him.

After a horrific trio of The Happening, The Last Airbender and After Earth, he surprised us all with the chillingly effective Split, only to disappoint again with the convoluted Unbreakable crossover Glass.

Sadly, this followup is even worse – a dull, nonsensical tale that not only wouldn’t make the cut as a Twilight Zone instalment, but feels more like the worst-ever episode of TV’s Fantasy Island.

Using Pierre Oscar Levy and Frederik Peeters’ 2010 graphic novel Sandcastle asa starting point, Shyamalan’s joyless, leaden narrative retreads the same themes as his superior Signs, only with the main characters’ lack of faith this time being in their marriage.

Guy (Gael Garcia Bernal) and Prisca (Vicky Krieps) have decided to take one last family holiday together before separating.

Three days at the isolated, tropical Anamkia Resort with their two children, 11-year-old Maddox (Alexa Swinton) and 6-year-old Trent (Nolan River).

While trying to work out activities to do together, they take up the suggestion of the resort manager (Gustaf Hammarsten) to visit a secret beach in a nature preserve on the other side of the island. Joined on the mini-bus by four others representing three generations of the same wha¯ nau, they are dropped off with a seemingly huge amount of provisions and with a promise that they will be collected at 5pm.

To their delight, it seems they have the coastline all to themselves, save a lone man who Maddox identifies, to her great shock, as rapper Mid-Sized Sedan (Aaron Pierre).

Further exploration reveals a treasure trove of trinkets and children’s toys – that’s before a naked female body, Sedan’s missing companion, washes up to cast a pall over proceedings.

But that’s only the start of the spooky goings on – Prisca notices that Trent’s (Luca Faustino Rodriguez) togs are showing signs of strain and Maddox (Thomasin McKenzie) is threatening to bust out of her bikini top.

Thanks to the opening stanza’s portentous and pretentious conversations, which constantly bang on about age and time, and Shyamalan’s insistence on off-centre framing, what follows is a real challenge for the audience, not so much in terms of dealing with any suspense, but rather stifling an increasing sense of incredulity and a potential giggling fit.

As they deliver some truly derisory dialogue, it’s hard not to feel this talented cast, that also includes Rufus Sewell, Ken Leung and Nikki Amuka-Bird were actually taking part in an improv or bonding exercise that Shyamalan just decided to film.

He says he was inspired by Australian classic Walkabout and Picnic at Hanging Rock. But they never had a surgeon obsessed with a movie that starred Marlon Brando and Jack Nicholson, or cuts that instantly heal.

Instead, this feels like the demonic love child of Insidious,

The Blue Lagoon and Amazon’s recent New Zealand-shot series

The Wilds.

It’s a po-faced, ill-conceived misadventure where the only entertainment you’ll derive will be from making fun of it.