Movie Review - Split

Split *½ (out of 5) (PG-13) Few things are certain in Hollywood. Fine scripts have overcome such daunting challenges as Andie MacDowell’s acting, Russell Crowe’s singing, or even the dancing of miscast luminaries like Clark Gable and Jimmy Stewart. But disappointment from each new suspense tale written and/or directed by M. Night Shyamalan is becoming a slam dunk. Including this one.

The man who’s been coasting on the dissipating fumes of his megahit The Sixth Sense for about 18 years starts with an intriguing and novel premise. People who develop DID (dissociative identity disorder, formerly labeled multiple personality disorder) not only have a real, provable clinical condition that emerged as a protective device after severe trauma, but may reflect an evolutionary advance, accessing more of their innate potential than the so-called normals. The shrink treating this film’s psycho (James McAvoy) has documented such radically different physical and mental abilities among her patients’ personae that she believes they may be using more of the brain’s capacity that the rest of us. In reality, most mental health professionals question whether the condition even exists, and no one has suggested that these patients may be an early version of the superpowered mutants of X-Men lore.

McAvoy’s character has 23 identities, some of which compel him to grab three attractive teenaged girls and keep them in a vast dungeon of sorts. His purpose is vague, with conflicting attitudes and agendas swirling among his different selves. That’s good for McAvoy, who gets to play many roles, from a good-natured, dim-witted child to a priggish woman, a fey clothing designer, and a more menacing neat-freak, etc. Possibilities for violence and perversion loom, while the confused damsels in unknown distress try to escape by whatever means any given moment seems to offer.

What begins as a relatively intense situation for PG-13 fare, cloaked in mystery and sexual tension devolves into a mess of psychobabble and confusion. The set is too big and complicated. McAvoy’s subparts grow tiresome, without even subjecting us to the whole roster. His (their?) therapist (Betty Buckley) loses IQ points as the tale unfolds. The girls never rise above mere genre types, despite some efforts to define them. As expected, there’s a twist at the end, but it’s more of a punch line to a lame joke than a “reveal”. If that’s TMI, making the comment a spoiler, I feel no remorse. This film was spoiled long before I entered the theater, or wrote these words to spare you from doing the same. (1/20/17)