M Night Shyamalan’s newest silver screen offering presents 23 different sides of the human psyche, in Split. After a wholesome teen birthday party, three girls are kidnapped in broad daylight: friends Claire (Haley Lu Richardson) and Marcia (Jessica Sula), and difficult outsider Casey (Anya Taylor-Joy). Their captor Kevin (James McAvoy) locks the trio in a windowless room, then proceeds to frighten and baffle them. One minute he’s wearing eyeglasses and obsessive about cleanliness, the next he’s presenting as female, and later he acts like a nine-year-old boy. It is revealed that Kevin exhibits 23 alternate personalities, and in order to escape, his captives must convince one of the personalities within him to set them free, before the arrival of the 24th and final personality, the “beast”. Split is written and directed by Shyamalan, and is rated PG-13 for disturbing thematic content and behavior, violence and some language.

Split marks the return to form for one of Hollywood’s most polarizing directing minds, and it does so without sacrificing its artistic integrity nor disgracing the very fabric of this intriguing disease that plagues the mind and body of this character. Shyamalan’s tone feels right at home here, with the very essence of this suspenseful rarely ever giving way to hearty and mood-ruining laughs that some of his later efforts were known for. To anyone who read my review for The Visit in 2015, you’ll know that I enjoyed the movie, but plenty was ruined for the cringe-worthy acting, as well as completely wrong tone for the movie’s personality. Thankfully, Split prides itself on being first and foremost a thriller, but rarely ever a horror offering. Instead, its brutality and gore is in what your imagination takes from it. This could be a risky or disappointing idea for Shyamalan on his audience, but it works beautifully because the movie asks as much out of our mentalities as it does from its central character. We have to fill in the gaps in the very same methods that Kevin does, and the bridge of clarity is built one brick at a time above the troubled waters that higher budgeted Shyamalan movies have failed miserably.

What I found so refreshing about this direction in terms of story and presentation is the aspect of some fresh perspectives when discussing this particular disease, as well as people with traits that are deemed anything other than “Normal”. Usually the kind of people suffering from these rare occurances are thought of as underneath a typical human-being, in terms of mental capacity and physical strength. But what Shyamalan does is put us the public one step below those given this distinctive ability. The movie mentions several times how our brains might not be strong enough to understand them, and this offers much more than just an original direction in character structure, it also relates at just how disadvantaged our protagonists will be in fighting off his multiple personalities. A movie with a setup in terms of gimmick like this one could fail on so many merits, mostly in the performances feeling unbelievable or the very tone of the movie failing to capture the urgency of these women whose lives change so abruptly when they are out enjoying themselves in their natural habitat. Both of these areas do succeed, but the former deserves a lot more credit when you step back to think about what it took to accomplish something so rare.

James McAvoy has always been an actor with undeniable range in depth and capability, but as Kevin he displays a literal Broadway offering of a one man show that eclipses anything that he has ever done by a mile. Being that this is the same actor portraying these different personalities, McAvoy must commit everything he has in personality and physical stature to fully distinguish each of the many people living inside of this man’s head. This is certainly no easy feat, but I found myself astonished at just how effortlessly James transformations always exceeded the line of believability. The accents are key here because no two of them are ever the same, vibrantly echoing many geographical locations like New York, London, or Southern America to name a few. It’s a treat to hear this, but the visual spectacle by an actor going where no other has gone before is what takes it to a new level. You believe the morphing and distortion in body traits that is being described on-screen because McAvoy always does it in front of our very eyes. To see this, makes for some truly remarkable dedication to the characters, and it’s clear that James doesn’t pick favorites in the value of each one, because each turn is made even more memorable with his undeterred charisma radiating its way through our skin in the form of goosebumps. Anya Taylor Joy is also commendable once more with her haunting facials and mesmerizing eyes that always accurately depict the true trauma and uncertainty that these teenage girls are enduring. Joy herself has a backstory that I will get to later on, and it proves that McAvoy isn’t the only likable character in the film, and the distinction between them grows blurry as the movie moves on.

The movie is basically narrating two stories for us simultaneously. In the foreground, there’s of course the unfolding events of everything going on with this kidnapping. The subplot however is something that I felt was much more tragic in terms of psychological harm. When the movie begins, we learn that there’s something different to Joy’s character, and that these three women are anything but the ideal trio of high school females that grew up as friends. Through one layer at a time of peeled exposition, we learn that there’s a reason why Casey seems more calm than the other two. I felt that this side story was a valuable addition, but there were times when its progression felt jarring and even halting to the lack of time and attention to our first story. Some scenes even fade to black completely before interchanging back and forth. It rarely feels smooth, and could’ve used a little more emphasis on the fluidity of editing. Like any great Shyamalan movie, there is a twist, two actually. Both of which feel necessary without ever truly compromising the story’s integrity similarly to The Village or Lady In the Water. The first twist confirmed perhaps what I already knew about a character, but the second twist turned my world upside down in a possible S.C.U. That’s Shyamalan Cinematic Universe.

The movie does have some ADR problems in voice editing/mixing, but the biggest problem is in the finale when a few appropriate measures either prolong or promote the annoying convenience of illogical stances. The ending itself is something that will undoubtedly divide audiences right down the middle. I enjoyed it personally, but feel like it lacks the kind of satisfaction in an ending that justified accordingly the nearly two hour run time. The third act has some promise however, with history repeating itself in a certain decision that gives Casey another chance at re-writing it, and the jarring similarities in setup certainly served by this critic as poetic justice for an opportunity that sometimes all of us wait for, but rarely ever get.

Split is 23 accounts of McAvoy’s brilliance that never bend under the pressure of a script that depends on him faithfully. Shyamalan is at his best when he’s commanding low budget thrills with a claustrophobic and respectable stance on the very things that make everyone different. With some tighter storytelling and some slight catering to the audience during the final battle, this one nearly missed being extraordinary. As it stands, Split finds its identity through the eyes of a maniac that relates that the different are the powerful.

7/10