Formative Fears is a column that explores how horror scared us from an early age, or how the genre contextualizes youthful phobias and trauma. From memories of things that went bump in the night, to adolescent anxieties made real through the use of monsters and mayhem, this series expresses what it felt like to be a frightened child – and what still scares us well into adulthood.
Filmmaker M. Night Shyamalan has built a career on bold and sinuous storytelling. From an unparalleled account of eco-horror to singular superhero origins, he has always entrusted his audiences to expect the unexpected from his work. Shyamalan’s eager imagination has led to several larger-than-life movies, but his internal and smaller-scale stories are perhaps where he is at his most comfortable. The supernatural led to solace for a mother and her son in The Sixth Sense; Signs showed a sincere portrait of a bereft family amidst an alien invasion; the traumatized sought refuge in The Village. Whenever Shyamalan dwells on basic and heartfelt human situations within extraordinary settings, he flourishes.
Then there’s The Visit, a movie that is remarkably low profile and atypical for Shyamalan. The dreadful events that transpire at a remote Pennsylvanian farm ultimately become the catalyst for growth and understanding for a quietly devastated family.
Shyamalan has a history of using death to distance loved ones; here, the thing that keeps a family apart is one’s shame. In this case, Loretta Jamison (Kathryn Hahn) has not seen her parents in fifteen years ever since she walked out and never looked back. Now, they’ve initiated a reconciliation of sorts by having the grandchildren visit their “Nana” (Deanna Dunagan) and “Pop Pop” (Peter McRobbie) for a few days while their mother goes on a cruise vacation with her new boyfriend.
Fifteen-year-old Becca (Olivia DeJonge) and her thirteen-year-old brother Tyler (Ed Oxenbould) have very little to do on a secluded, snowy farm. When they’re not filming a documentary about the reunion on Becca’s camera, the bored teens can’t help but notice how strange their grandparents are; it doesn’t help that the young guests are given a bedtime of 9:30, at which point they’re asked not to leave their room. A series of unusual discoveries and incidents then adds to the grandchildren’s growing mistrust; Tyler was the first to cast doubt, but in time, Becca agrees something is very off about Nana and Pop Pop.
At first glance, The Visit is an extensive look at aging and its effects on the mind and body. Nana and Pop Pop, or rather Marja and Frederick, are like mirrors that show what’s in store for the young characters down the line. Tyler, having not grown up around his maternal grandparents or really any elderly folks until now, is especially spooked by the harsh truths of old age – for instance, he learns about unfamiliar things like incontinence and sundowning. Tyler’s marked discomfort is only fueled by an inherent aversion to germs that he has no choice but to confront later on in the movie.
Meanwhile, Becca appears far more reasonable as she tells her brother “to accept [their grandparents are] old people and things won’t be as weird.” In light of her own abandonment issues concerning her father, Becca’s instinctive need to defend her grandparents is her way of ensuring one more person in her family doesn’t just up and leave her. Given the opportunity to connect with another blood relative in her dad’s absence is something Becca is more appreciative of than Tyler. That recurring pain of their father’s sudden departure had a lasting impact on Becca – after all, he simply gave her a card before he left – as she can no longer even look at herself in the mirror to brush her teeth or properly put on her clothes. This explains her interest in the video camera; it’s Becca’s way of expressing her story without actually being in it. The camera is her link to the real world that she no longer sees herself fit to be a part of. As with Tyler, Becca eventually has to face her fear and look into the mirror she actively avoids because her life will suddenly depend on it.
The Visit often plays out like a modern reworking of the Grimm Brothers’ “Hansel and Gretel.” The general plot of the classic fairy tale starts with a mother abandoning her two children in the woods because she no longer thinks she can provide for them during hard times. The siblings are then preyed upon by a hungry old witch, who the children in turn kill before returning home. Shyamalan’s story has a divorced mother who may subconsciously be worried that her children are missing out on something that she can’t quite give them; especially now since their father is gone. Hence her wary agreement to let her daughter and son meet their grandparents. When the plan goes south, Becca and Tyler, who have to depend on themselves and each other to get out of trouble, come out stronger and more capable than before. It’s an old-fashioned way of teaching our progeny how to survive in an unfair world.
The children aren’t the only ones who are forced to wrestle their insecurities and come to terms with the past; Becca has her self-worth issues to contend with, whereas Tyler illogically places the blame on himself when trying to understand why his father deserted him all those years ago. As for their mother, Loretta is initially vague about what happened between her and her parents when she was nineteen. She’s opposed to the idea of her kids going to see Marja and Frederick, but the arrangement is her way of vicariously making amends. We learn in the end, during a heartfelt confession, that forgiveness was always there whenever Loretta wanted it. And Becca’s earnest attempt to reunite her mother with her parents ended up being a life lesson she sorely needed herself – sometimes you just have to let go of that anger in order to move on.
The Visit is a return to form for Shyamalan; he seemed like himself again in this delectably creepy and odd horror-comedy. He finds a balance between the disparate tones, and he delivers a startling plot twist that will certainly go down as one of his most memorable so long as you don’t think too hard about it. Shyamalan’s success here has a lot to do with the content being so intimately told through better-than-average cinematography for a found-footage movie; the theme of compassion is heavy but considerable.
Even though people look to as well as criticize M. Night Shyamalan for his many fantastical ideas, there’s no denying he’s also incredibly persuasive when sharing stories of self-examination as seen through the lens of the uncanny.
