SIGNS
© 2002 Touchstone Pictures

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Warning SIGNS

Yeah, so, I hear that Signs is coming to DVD in January. Well, I saw it this summer and I have one thing to say about it: I don't believe it.

No, sir, I don't buy it not for one second. It's completely implausible.

Honestly, did M. Night Shyamalan really think audiences were going to buy into this fantasyland crap?

I was with him on the whole "I see dead people" thing in The Sixth Sense. Hell, I was even with him in Unbreakable, whatever the heck that was about.

But Signs is just too much. He's gone too far.

I mean, come on like Joaquin Phoenix could really be Mel Gibson's brother. That's totally preposterous. Mel is 46 years old. Joaquin is 27. Give me a damn break. It's the most unbelievable casting since Anne Heche was picked to be Harrison Ford's love interest in Six Days, Seven Nights or all those movies with Michael Douglas hooking up with an actress young enough to be his daughter.

The other thing about Signs that really got me going: Mel and his family live in this big-ass house on a farm and the two kids share a bedroom. What's up with that? I don't know any kid who's just dying to share a room. Of course, these are children of a minister, so maybe they're just holier than thou or something. It reminded me of Poltergeist. When I was a kid, I remember trying to figure out why the son and daughter shared a bedroom in that huge house. Did the poltergeists take some of the rooms into another dimension or what?

Oh, another thing, I will never, ever marry a minister. You know why? 'Cause their wives are always dying and the minister loses his faith. No thanks. I'd rather be single forever.

Besides, I have no desire to hang around a minister anyway. No big loss. They're probably always preaching at you. Screw that. If I wanted someone to nag me all the time, I'd get myself a wussy poetry boy. They're always complaining about something.

Wussy poetry boy: "Why don't we try turning off The Simpsons and I'll read you a poem I wrote?"

Me: "Why don't you shut your wussy poetry boy yap?"

Wussy poetry boy: "Sonia, you are not the person I thought you were."

Me: "Well, duh. Now, here's a poem I wrote for you: 'Roses are red, violets are blue, don't let the door hit you on the way out, we're through.' What do you think?"

Hey, just a little insight into why I'm single, folks.

To be honest with you, if the minister looked like George Clooney, I'd reconsider my whole anti-preacher stance. But your average, everyday minister? Hell no, I won't go.

And here's another issue I had with the movie: If the aliens could be destroyed by water (which is very Wizard of Oz of them) then why did they try to invade a planet that's 90 percent water? That would be like humans trying to take over a planet that's 90 percent lava or acid.

Who's leading this alien race? ALF? Mork? Either way the alien isn't very smart. He's the George W. Bush of alien leaders.

Sounds like I didn't like Signs very much, huh?

Well, guess what? You're wrong. I liked Signs on a purely "Here we are, now entertain us" level. Plus, it gave me something to write about.