Ladies and gentlemen, Vern strikes again, as he dismantles M. Night Shyamalan's latest miracle of preposterousness. This is worth printing out and reading, then framing. A few standouts include:
"Shyamalan is an American, so he is innocent until proven guilty. But the point is that the scene made me seriously consider the possibility that a respected filmatist made an entire movie as a confession of his love for Ron Howard's daughter. And that's fucked up, man."
"Look here Shyamalan, you wanna tell us a bed time story, then come to our house and tell us a bed time story. We'll be thinking, "Oh shit, I can't believe M. Night Shyamalan, the famous movie star, came to my house and told me a story!" We won't hold it to a high standard of entertainment and storytelling. We'll think "that's cool that he would do that." When we pay money to see it on a big screen, though, we'll expect you to put a little god damn elbow grease into it. Please."
"Maybe that's the big M. Night Shyamalan twist ending. She needs to get home to the swimming pool... BY FLYING AWAY FROM THE SWIMMING POOL. Look at that man, M. Night just blew your mind like a fuckin balloon."
Not to mention the multi-paragraph digression about NBC's "Dateline: To Catch a Predator" series.
Read this now...