The Sixth Sense

Yeah, that’s right. I went 11 years without watching this movie—and, more importantly, as my roommate pointed out, without knowing what happens at the end. So for all of you who still haven’t seen it, I’m going to spoil the shit out of it right now. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

That ending was genius. It was genius, it was obvious, it was plain as day, and I didn’t even see it coming. Bruce/Malcolm has been dead all along. Of course he was dead all along. But it makes a sinister story into a beautiful, charming, brilliant one. I get all the fuss! This wasn’t a horror movie with a ton of special effects. It was about the relationship between a boy and a man, and the trust between a mother and her son. Naturally, the film had the occasional shock moments, you know, people hanging, Mischa Barton puking, a kid with a half-whacked head, that sort of thing. And the music, my god, that’s what made it suspenseful. It had its moments of terror. But it wasn’t terrifying.

I recommend seeing this movie, especially if you’re not a horror/suspense fan. It really is as great as everyone says because of its simplicity and understated-ness. Haley Joel Osment really is a boy wonder. How he delivered such a deep, disturbed performance at such a young age is beyond me, but occasionally, kids can pull something wise out of their tiny guts, I guess.

So there you go. Step by step, I’m apart of pop culture.

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