The Fallen Hero

I have my share of favorite auteurs, filmmakers who are instantly recognizable by a single frame of film: Hitchcock, Welles, Spielberg, Leone, Tarantino.

I also have my share of shameful auteurs, filmmakers who I can't stand to watch for any length of time: Michael Bay and Uwe Boll (the only two I actively avoid)

But then there's a director who transcends these lists. An artist who has made films that truly speak to the human hubris and psyche, and films that were assaulted the medium and the source material. He directed films that forced you to question everything you just saw, and can ruin the reputation of one of the most progressive animated series in recent history.
Manoj Night Shyamalan's trajectory in the film world could be written as a tragedy. A man with an exorbitant amount of talent for storytelling, falling from grace to become a fool in the eyes of those who held him in such high regards. His biggest success came in 1999 with the groundbreaking film that set the bar for modern Psychological Horror films The Sixth Sense; a film that begged the viewer to re-watch it to pick up on the subtleties dropped throughout the film (albeit the use of flashbacks at the end interfered with that a bit) and caused quite a bit of stirring with audiences concerning spoilers.

There has been plenty said about this film in particular, to the point that it is heavily referenced in college classes and textbooks. Instead I want to focus on the following project Unbreakable (2000), which is a beautiful allegory for his professional trajectory.

Unbreakable had the unfortunate disposition of being cast in the shadow of Sense, which caused many critics to critique it unfairly, and the studio to inappropriately market it as another psychological horror film, instead of a superhero origin story. In essence, this is the Nolan-esque Superman film that WB and DC have been trying to distill in their recent ventures. Gritty, suspenseful and almost completely devoid of bright colors, save for some choice elements, this is a perfect example of how you can make the Man of Steel serious and brooding.
Unfortunately, after its lackluster boxoffice success, there was no hope for subsequent sequels.
Signs (2002) fared better, grossing more than Unbreakable and just behind Sense, this sci-fi horror thriller continued Shyamalan's recipe for iconic shock moments and twist endings. Ultimately his reputation had set in, and now audiences were privy to his bait, and were looking for the switch.
The Village (2004), Lady in the Water (2006) and The Happening (2008) all suffered from poor reviews, declining further and further into his comfort zone of psychological horror/thriller, without the thrill, and losing the sense of horror with his actor's performances.
Then in 2010, he tried to break away and do something more lighthearted; he gained the rights to Avatar: The Last Airbender, a Nickelodeon show that had gained a massive following from both children and adults alike.

Fans of the show had been excited about the prospect of a film adaptation of the beloved group of friends as they take on a mighty empire (totally NOT Star Wars. At all. In the least) but were utterly crushed when the film seemingly betrayed their hopes and expectations. The Actors were all wrong. The writing was off. The colors were drab. The director, who claimed that he and his family were HUGE fans of the show, had made a mockery of one of the best American Anime series ever made (seriously, if you haven't seen Avatar: The Last Airbender, do it, and I dare you to tell me Iroh isn't your favorite character.)
This was the final nail in the coffin. Whether his intentions were pure and the studio impeded him, or he just didn't have the full understanding of what he should have left in and taken out, it will be difficult for him to ever recuperate from such a heavy blow as The Last Airbender (2010)
After Earth (2013) fared no better, partially due to the massive failure of Airbender lingering over it, and partially due to the wayward script as a way for Will Smith to try and promote his son's fledgling acting career.
How does Unbreakable stand as an allegory for Shyamalan, though? Bruce Willis was the hero, he beat the bad guy and saved the day.
But that was the protagonist. Samuel L. Jackson, on the other hand, was the REAL Shyamalan.

In the film, whenever we are introduced to Elijah Prince, we are seeing him through a reflection. As an infant, there are three layers of reflection in the department store. As a teen, a television screen. As an adult, a glass case housing the drawing from the cover of his first comic book. A layer of glass separates him from us, and he from society. That's due to his genetic disease, making his bones extremely fragile, often called Brittle Bone Disease, by merely falling over he can risk extreme bodily harm. He stands as a dark reflection to Willis' David Dunn, in almost every conceivable way.
Dunn is a strong, broad shouldered ex-athlete more concerned about protecting others than his own self-preservation and has the ability to sense people's motives with a brush past them.
Prince is a slender hunched comic book geek, who was afraid to even leave his house as a boy, and became obsessed with the ideals of the fictional universes.
But the true definition of his character is revealed at the "twist" of the film, when he gives his final monologue to Dunn:
"Now that we know who you are, I know who I am. I'm not a mistake! It all makes sense! In a comic, you know how you can tell who the arch-villain's going to be? He's the exact opposite of the hero. And most times they're friends, like you and me! I should've known way back when... You know why, David? Because of the kids. They called me Mr Glass."

And that's where it is. Shyamalan could have been one of the greatest directors alive, and proved it with Sense and Unbreakable, but was unable to due to restrictions forced upon him by the studios, transforming him into a husk of an auteur. We need people like Shyamalan, Michael Bay, and Uwe Boll remind future filmmakers of what may become of us if we don't challenge the formulas of the studios.
Or as Harvey Dent said it best:
"You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain."