Mel Gibson plays a dad, priest and farmer visited by aliens in this 2002 M. Night Shyamalan flick he should have called Father Father Farmer Sky.

This farm-based thriller finds the director in fertile form, moving from Close En-cow-nters territory to M. Night of the Living Dead. His now-irksome quirks work surprisingly well, building a funny yet believable relationship between the deadpan dad and his eccentric children (Rory Culkin and Abigail Breslin), who look slightly alien themselves. Shyamalan displays rare comic timing and cosmic wonder (as in “I wonder what attracted Mel Gibson to the role of religious father figure whose faith is tested by aliens?”), and at no point does anyone say “The Happening“.

In an era dominated by overblown Roland Emmerich disaster movies, telling the alien invasion from the perspective of a small rural family lends the Spielbergian sci-fi a sense of intimacy. Set almost entirely in one house, Shyamalan builds suspense without much really happening (damn I said it), displaying a level of class, craft and care he would never visit again. The exposition is smartly revealed through the kids, with a particularly hilarious performance from the young Breslin.

But it all falls apart at the end, when Shyamalan single-handedly ruins Signs by revealing the alien, casting himself as a martyr figure (not for the last time), and laying on the schmaltzy Christian messaging so thick he might as well have called it Sighs. For the most part though, the film is so enjoyable I cannot believe it is made by M. Night Shyamalan, and no amount of signs from the universe can make me.