Michael Suarez
“Does man deserve to be saved, Mr. Heep?”
…
“Yes.”
“That’s not the answer I expected.”
I’m not going to attempt to prove that M. Night Shyamalan’s 2006 film, Lady in the Water, is some misunderstood masterpiece, because it isn’t. Well, the first part is true, just not the second, and this is the problem. Because the movie has its issues, very few of which I actually agree with, by the way, people overlook what Shyamalan was saying. This is a film about sincerity, storytelling, and finding meaning in a world increasingly moving toward irony, content over story, and nihilism. When all seems lost, what can we do?
The film follows Cleveland Heep (played by an earnest Paul Giamatti), the super for an apartment building called the Cove. He’s a sad man, but even given his depression, he has a job that keeps his days occupied. He knows everyone’s name, and though he may lose track of time every now and then, he keeps up with his work. I get the feeling that the Cove is a decent place to live, tenant-wise, anyway, and this is in no small part due to Cleveland.
This is important because even though Cleveland shoulders a lot of responsibility for the apartment complex and its tenants, he strikes me as a man who does not like himself much. This is most likely due to his past. We’re not given a whole lot of information, but we do know that Cleveland once had a family who were murdered. It would make sense that Cleveland has a job that takes his mind off such a tragedy, particularly because such a thing could lead to dark actions, but here’s the thing: Cleveland is a good super, in my opinion. It’s not a surprise that he is the one who begins and ends Story’s overall journey.
Story is a sea nymph played hauntingly by Bryce Dallas Howard. She is sent from the “Blue World” to find a writer who is writing a book that will one day inspire a man who will cause great change in the world. It’s a simple enough mission, but as Story and Cleveland discover, that is certainly not the case. Some might say that the film’s narrative is convoluted, and I would agree—except I don’t believe this to be unintentional. One of Lady in the Water’s many themes is the idea of finding purpose, and sometimes, that’s easier said than done.
After consulting the Cove’s latest tenant, who happens to be a movie critic, Cleveland believes he’s found the group of people necessary for Story’s journey to be completed. As it turns out, the information the critic, Mr. Harry Farber (played by the always great Bob Balaban), provided to Cleveland was wrong because it was very surface-level. Is Shyamalan taking a shot at critics with this character, in terms of this foible and his attitude towards most of the characters in this movie? Of course he is. Does it work as smoothly as Shyamalan would’ve liked? I can’t really say. However, I find it an odd addition to the movie and have never satisfactorily tied it in with the rest of the ideas inherent in the movie. I suppose it can be a comment on irony.
For most of my life, I’ve always personally felt that sincerity beats irony every single time. Now, I might appreciate and even laugh along with irony when it’s done well, but when it comes to sincerity, all I have to say is that it can be done in the cheesiest, most cliched way possible, and I will adore it. Shyamalan’s films are filled with sincerity, and that’s definitely one of the reasons why I love his work. It’s also why I completely understand someone hating his work because of this, but truly, Lady in the Water is his most sincere film to date.
Another reason viewers are negative towards this movie is the character of Vick Ran, played by Shyamalan himself. Now, aside from finding one’s purpose and commenting on irony, the film also addresses the very idea of storytelling. It makes sense to me that if Shyamalan is saying that writing can help save the world, he would play the writer in the film. It’s not a glamorous part, and truthfully, he does a fine job. He doesn’t take risks as an actor, which was the smart thing, because it feels like a fairly honest performance of a writer who has ideas, writes them down, and then believes no one would want to actually read them. When he’s told his future, however vague it may be, he accepts it, but I never sense ego. Props to Shyamalan for keeping Vick grounded.
I also love his relationship with his sister, Anna, played delightfully by Sarita Choudhury. They feel like siblings to me, and I appreciate how much Anna has to do, including a surprise role in the film’s final stretch. In fact, I’d like to highlight something. There are a lot of characters in the movie, played by actors of many races, nationalities, genders, shapes, and sizes. The diversity is a wonderful thing to see.
Take the character of Young-Soon Choi, played charmingly by Cindy Cheung. I love her. She’s a young college student who helps Cleveland out a lot in the film’s first half, and I always find myself a bit bummed that she’s kind of sidelined in the second half, until that final stretch, which I’ll get to shortly. She helps Cleveland sort things out regarding Story and what she’s doing at the Cove. Without Young-Soon, Cleveland would’ve had a harder time.
She also allows exposition to come into the movie. She and her mother, played by June Kyoto Lu, guide Cleveland through the use of stories and legends of a Narf, which is what Story is. As it turns out, stories help Cleveland a lot more than the words of a critic. Not sure if Shyamalan meant that, but it’s an interesting point to make, whether or not I agree with it.
It all comes down to purpose. The critic’s help didn’t seem to work, but I would argue that it kind of did. I don’t believe getting the correct group of people together earlier in the story would’ve necessarily resulted in a better outcome. Possibly less stress and a less-dead Mr. Farber, but other than that, I feel like if purpose is meant to be found, then things had to go wrong. Cleveland had to choose the wrong people to get to the right ones, and I like that. Life is not a story; it’s messier than that. Life is convoluted.
Life is filled with ugliness, tragedy, war, and dealing with reality. Lady in the Water was released in the summer of 2006, just two months shy of five years from September 11, 2001. The War on Terror was still ever present, and it’s not difficult to determine that Shyamalan wanted that in our minds when Cleveland speaks with Mr. Leeds as war footage plays on the television. Bill Irwin, by the way, is so good as Mr. Leeds, particularly when he tells Cleveland the following late in the movie, when things keep going wrong, and Story is dying:
“This is not right. We can’t just stand here playing make-believe. I wanted to believe more than most. I want to be like a child again. I needed to believe there’s more than this awfulness around us. But at some point, we have to stop.”
Amen, Mr. Leeds. I don’t know who this man is, other than that Cleveland respects him, and despite his cold exterior, he clearly has the heart of a man who cares about the world. Has he seen war? Is this why he can understand Cleveland’s loss? After all, he knows all about what happened to Cleveland’s family. It’s interesting. He’s ultimately the one who convinces Cleveland to accept who he is in the world, and in doing so, he confronts something he’s held onto for a long time.
As Story lies dying, Cleveland cradles her, and accepting his purpose as “the Healer,” he closes his eyes and begins to speak to his family. In a scene that has always felt to me as some of the best work Paul Giamatti has ever done, Cleveland breaks down and says the following:
“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I should have been there. I am always gonna regret…just not being there. I’ll miss your faces. Oh, they remind me of God. I’m so lost without you guys…I love you all. I love you all so much.”
His willingness to confront not only his past but the emotions stirred by it allows Cleveland to become who he was meant to be. One cannot heal others if one has not healed oneself. With Story back to good health and everyone’s purpose determined, things ultimately work out. A happy ending for the story of the film? Sure. But life goes on.
Vick is told that he will be killed one day because of “The Cookbook.” Cleveland has a choice to make now that he’s free from the burden of the tragedy that has weighed on him for a long time. Then there’s everyone else, wide-eyed and watching as the eagle takes Story away, back to the Blue World. What comes next? I do not know.
What happens when we come to the end of a journey? Our story doesn’t end because our story is part of a grander one. We simply have a part in it. Do we all have specific purposes? I don’t know. Maybe. I’ll say this: Lady in the Water is a film for our modern times. It can be silly; its fantastical aspects can be a bit too weird; and Shyamalan makes some odd choices from time to time. Overall, though, I admire what it has to say about our current state of being, even if the movie is 20 years old now.
Life is not a story. However, life can have elements of one. There can be a hero for every villain if we choose it. Sincerity can eclipse irony. Storytelling by itself won’t save the world, but it can inspire. Good things can happen through the belief that they are possible.
