Split (2017): Review
Everybody loves a comeback and that sentiment is on full display with the pinnacle of M. Night Shyamalan’s burgeoning resurgence. His latest film, Split, is a lurid, taut, highly distinctive albeit imperfect horror film that nonetheless solidifies a definitive return to form for the much marginalised director. Devoid of the banal abstractness that has plagued Shyamalan’s recent endeavours, Split excels via a patent focus towards the scale and performances. Typically unpredictable and absorbed in suspense, the outré originality of the narrative does well to compensate for a multifarious degree of dubious elements. Yet, with exceptional turns from James McAvoy and Anya Taylor-Joy at the centre, Split is sharp popcorn fare imbued by its beguiling nature.
James McAvoy portrays Kevin, a man consumed by dissociative identity disorder as he lives with twenty-three alternating personalities. One of these personalities has felt compelled to abduct three teenage girls in broad daylight, claiming they are there for a higher purpose. The three girls led by Casey (Anya Taylor-Joy) quickly decipher that there are personas that could help their plight and those that they must avoid at all cost. However, no matter what disposition these differing identities hold, they all believe a mythic entity known as “The Beast” is coming. Forcing the girls into a battle of wits as they have been labelled as his “sacred food”. With the twist being that their captor has the capabilities to help them escape or orchestrate their demise.
As aforementioned, the performances are an apex in Split with James McAvoy delivering the most demanding performance of his career. For in the hands of a different actor, the role of Kevin could have easily been too much of a caricature to create the complexity and sympathy needed for the film as a whole to function. But for McAvoy, who is clearly enjoying himself, is able to blend an array of distinguishable personas to an impressive technical scale. Nailing the interpersonal conflicts magnificently, McAvoy’s commitment shines as a character equally compelling as he is frightening. But not to understate from the other performances, Anya Taylor-Joy is also a standout. Bringing a strength and calmness to another character that could have easily been overtly heightened. Her stillness and use of body language evokes an elegance and a different style of horror heroine. The determination of these performers are telling.
Split also radiates through the manner in which Shyamalan maneuvers his story, placing his confidence towards bizarre originality but with a level of restraint. The film is at its best when the scale is claustrophobic as it makes for palpable tension and enchantingly haunting imagery. The stronger points of Shyamalan’s storytelling in Split is when a minuscule scale is applied. As the film becomes more reliant towards a silent intensity to effectually deliver subtle scares. This in turn is able to evoke the originality of the narrative, masterfully. With the abnormal approach being one of the film’s most endearing traits. It avoids clichés as the further the plot progresses it continues to be refreshingly unpredictable. Furthermore, the imagination behind the narrative and tone is encapsulating. The story balances unsettling horror, character analysis, black humour and an uneasy camp factor with ease. Thus, the off the wall nature works considerably and this has to be summated to Shyamalan’s meticulous construction.
That said, Split is not without its faults. As the film adheres to a familiar trademark you’d come to expect from a Shyamalan feature — an excessive usage of expositional and unnatural dialogue. This is seen predominantly through the guise of Kevin’s psychiatrist, portrayed by Betty Buckley. The character in essence is a framing device. Her scenes consist, largely, of her sprouting about Kevin’s mentality and backstory. The development of said character is minuet as a result, due to her being allocated as a glorified expositional tool. To inform the audience more on the central character rather than have a viable presence of her own. To another degree, the writing in general can feel a little too craggy, with multiple instances in which the lines being said sounds little like how a regular individual would communicate. In a broader sense, particular aspects of the screenplay felt considerably hollow and alien to the point where the film nearly threatens to collapse under its own thematic weight.
While the way it handles disassociative identity disorder is certain to rub some people the wrong way. D.I.D. or “split personalities” has been a staple of horror for as long as time withstands, from Psycho to Raising Cain. Split follows the same trend exhibited in those films, utilising the disorder to craft a sense of horror rather than a poignant representation. In regards to the tone of the film, it’s masterful as it evokes something sinister that speaks to our anxieties and levels of catharsis. However, the stylised nature for some will feel exploitative. As it is the film’s selling point, the portrayal of D.I.D. will arguably divide opinion, an aspect determined to be based on an individual’s suspension of disbelief.
Yet, while Split is far from flawless, the entertainment value is consistently reinstated by what it is able to execute correctly. The film serves as an extremely engaging experience, succeeding as an enigmatic and offbeat psychological horror. Pervaded by a clear directorial confidence, the most pleasing outcome of Split is that Shyamalan has returned to the calibre of filmmaking he has long buried for the best part of a decade. As Split inherently plays to his strengths, crafting an adroit genre piece imbued by a simple premise and littered with suspense and panache throughout. With startling performances and surefire direction, Split is a delightful piece of escapism just not one entirely refined.
