When a director makes a living by promising mind-bending twists, audiences watch these films more closely than they watch the average movie. The Village marks the fourth consecutive time M. Night Shyamalan plays this game with his audience, and anybody paying attention should be able to figure out the film's huge surprise at about the 20-minute mark. This would not be a problem if the film had something to say about anything. There are lots of possible readings of the film. Is it an allegory for the Garden of Eden? A political statement about living in the age of color-coded terror warnings? Maybe a philosophical treatise on the debate between nature and nurture? The audience is unable to figure out the point because Shyamalan does not have one. None of this would matter if the film delivered as a thriller, but the plot holes are so numerous and apparent (as well as impossible to reveal in the context of a movie review without spoiling the film) that no tension can be generated. Shyamalan's game cast, featuring a fine debut performance from Bryce Dallas Howard, does what it can with the faux-+Crucible argot spoken by the citizens of The Village. Sadly, the characters' syntax is just one of the film's many conventions that exist for no reason other than to misdirect (read: lie to) the audience. The Village is an exasperating film that fails to satisfy on any level.