SIGNS (or, "How to Completely Ruin Your Alien Invasion Story in the Final Act")
I have a petty obsession with the movie SIGNS and today I'm sharing my burden.
I have a lot of petty obsessions, as I’m sure we all do. It might be related to a sports team, be it hometown heroes or their reviled rivals. It might be a particular band or song that, when you hear them, it wipes the smile right off your face. Today I am writing in the hopes that putting my feelings on paper will exorcise me of this cruel obsession that has plagued me for two decades, and that is the movie SIGNS (2002) by M. Night Shyamalan.
I think that even some of Mr. Shyamalan most ardent fans will admit the writer/director has had his share of misses. Heck, every artist in every medium whiffs at the plate sometimes, right? But sometimes they strike out in spectacular fashion, winding up with their faces in the dirt.
Now, to be clear, SIGNS is not a bad film. As someone who considers himself something of an expert when it comes to bad films (some people have a sweet-tooth, I have a shit-tooth) I can say that I found SIGNS to be a well-made, engaging film. But there’s a central flaw to that movie, a bone-headed mistake that stands out like a shining beacon of What-the-Fuck, and today I’m going to get into it.
Mel Gibson plays Graham Hess, a former preacher who has lost his faith in God following the death of his wife. He lives with his children and brother in a farmhouse. When crop circles start to appearing in his cornfields, Graham dismisses them as the work of pranksters. Soon he and his family start hearing strange noises and watch news reports on crop circles appearing all over the world. It becomes increasingly clear that a full-scale attack by hostile aliens is imminent.
But everything ends just fine because the bodies of the aliens react to tap water as if it were hydrochloric acid. No need to grab your gun, just bust out the hose or the kids’ super-soakers. Heck, just hock loogies at them! Alien invasion averted! Humans: 1, Aliens 0. The end.
Now, this is the part that I obsess over: Who was in charge of this operation? Pardon me for thinking that an advanced race with technology allowing them to travel faster than light (or fold space, or however it is they get get around) would make such an obvious tactical blunder strains credulity way past the breaking point.
There’s this thing called the “off-screen movie”: events that we know happened but aren’t shown. Like when Macbeth cries, “Lay on Macduff!” The actors go off-stage and Macduff comes back with Macbeth’s head. We don’t see the fight, just the result. Or when Javier Bardem kills Josh Brolin and his girlfriend off-screen in NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN. Our imagination fills in the blanks.
And, God help me, I just can’t help but wonder how that conversation went.
ALIEN GENERAL: Listen up soldiers, because this is going to be the most perilous war in our planet’s history. We’re invading a planet called “Earth” by it’s inhabitants. The natives are armed with crude, stone-age technology, so militarily they possess a negligible threat. The real peril we face is that the planet is consists of 71% hydrochloric acid. I mean, this stuff is everywhere. It exists in the very air, the very soil! The natives themselves are mostly made of the stuff!
ALIEN GRUNT: So we’re going to have acid-proof suits and helmets, right?
ALIEN GENERAL: Nope. We’re going in bare-ass naked.
The alien grunts exchanged baffled looks.
ALIEN GRUNT: Um, pardon me for saying Imperious Leader, but won’t that put as at a – gee, I dunno – tactical disadvantage?
ALIEN GENERAL: That’s where you’re wrong! When the humans see we’re attacking them in the nude, with zero protection from the hydrochloric acid that makes up 71% of their planet, they’ll be so scared out of their wits they’ll surrender immediately!
ALIEN GRUNT: You mean they’re not going to hurl buckets of acid at us?
ALIEN GENERAL: They’ll be too busy shitting themselves in fear! They’re gonna think, “Holy shit! These guys are invading our planet of hydrochloric acid and their doing it butt naked! They’re lunatics! We don’t stand a chance!” They lay down their arms, the war is won in a day.
ALIEN GRUNT: Um... doesn’t this seem a little counter-intuitive?
ALIEN GENERAL: Guards, seize that traitor and take him to the orb of psychic torture!