The Sixth Sense

A film that left an indelible footprint on the popular culture, a film that remains one of my favorite titles of the 1990s in any genre...

At root, his films are patient vindications of crazy faiths, of ghosts and comic book heroes. Loneliness is his theme, and when blessed with courageous performers, as in The Sixth Sense, he can take us just about anywhere.

You leave slightly asquirm. You know it will linger. It becomes a clammy, chilly movie building toward a revelation that you cannot predict. As I say: I cannot tell you. You'd hate me if I did. I can only say, don't look now, but look sometime.

Dr Crowe gradually comes to believe that little Cole can indeed commune with the unquiet souls, who are reaching out to him for help. And, yes, the scenes where Cole does so can be very creepy indeed.

So transparent is Osment as an actor, and so rare, that the pain on his face stabs you in the heart.

Osment's pinched, old-young face suggests an ancient's insight without an ancient's defenses -- a sensitivity so exquisitely morbid that you worry more for his emotional than physical well-being.

All these years later, The Sixth Sense still holds up as an all around great film. The film powerfully portrays the emotional journeys of three separate characters without short-changing any of their stories.

The film remains a strong and engaging tale, one worthy of its reputation and a rewatch. But this release is not worth the upgrade.

The film’s an extended exercise in flattering the fooled viewer for being a viewer and for being fooled.

This is popcorn cinema at its most purely empathetic – a horror film where the true horror is in not being seen, heard or understood by those around us, especially the people we love.