M. Night Shyamalan rarely hits the nail square on the head, and here he doesn’t either. His half-hearted venture into annoying “found footage” horror has two kids (and, conveniently, budding documentarians) visiting their estranged grandparents for the first time in rural Pennsylvania—where there’s no cell service, natch—and maw-maw and pop-pop gradually start acting kind of odd. They also for some reason have an oven in the kitchen that’s so big it requires a 12-year-old girl to crawl all the way into it to clean the back, but can’t accommodate a grandmother who appears to be the same height.
Shmamamlon is in some ways a talented filmmaker, visually he’s pretty accomplished, but I can’t understand why he’s been at this nearly 30 years and still seems sort of try-hard, almost experimental, like he’s still trying to find his voice. Some of the bit supporting performances in this film are awfully wooden, too, and the whole thing feels just a touch forced and contrived. Although he does have a funny bit where every time a supporting characters notices the kids are filming them, they say, “I used to do a bit of acting” and launch into an unasked-for Shakespeare soliloquy. That’s cute.
I remain convinced that someday Schmama Don Salami Don will make another movie that I like, but it’s been a seriously long time at this point.