When one man harbours twenty-three souls, the line between victim and monster dissolves into primal terror.

 

In M. Night Shyamalan’s 2016 psychological thriller Split, the human mind becomes a labyrinth of horror, where dissociative identity disorder manifests not just as fragmented psyches but as a horde of personalities culminating in the emergence of The Beast. This film masterfully blends clinical realism with supernatural dread, challenging viewers to confront the fragility of identity and the shadows cast by childhood trauma. What elevates Split beyond standard genre fare is its unflinching exploration of mental illness, wrapped in a narrative that grips from the first abduction to the final revelation.

 

  • James McAvoy’s tour-de-force performance as the fractured Kevin Wendell Crumb, embodying 23 distinct personalities including the animalistic Beast, redefines screen villainy through sheer transformative power.
  • The film’s nuanced portrayal of dissociative identity disorder grounds its supernatural elements in psychological truth, sparking debates on representation and stigma in horror cinema.
  • As the linchpin of the Unbreakable trilogy, Split revitalises Shyamalan’s career, weaving trauma, survival, and otherworldly mutation into a tapestry of unrelenting suspense.

 

Fractured Minds: The Horde’s Rampage in Split

The Abduction That Shatters Normalcy

The film opens with a jolt of visceral terror as three teenage girls, Claire (Haley Lu Richardson), Marcia (Jessica Sula), and Casey Cooke (Anya Taylor-Joy), are kidnapped from a car park after a birthday party. Their abductor is Kevin Wendell Crumb, a seemingly unremarkable man whose outward mildness conceals a maelstrom within. Shyamalan wastes no time plunging us into the chaos of Kevin’s fractured mind. As the girls awaken in a labyrinthine underground lair, the first personality to emerge is Dennis, a meticulous and authoritarian figure clad in ill-fitting suits, enforcing rigid rules with an unsettling calm. This initial encounter sets the tone: ordinary spaces twist into prisons, and everyday people harbour unimaginable darkness.

Casey’s perspective anchors the narrative, her wide-eyed vulnerability contrasting the bravado of her friends. Flashbacks reveal her troubled upbringing, marked by an abusive father and a mother whose emotional neglect leaves scars that mirror Kevin’s own. These interludes are not mere backstory; they form a psychological bridge between captor and captive, hinting at shared wounds that propel the story towards its monstrous climax. Shyamalan’s direction here is economical yet evocative, using tight close-ups on trembling hands and flickering fluorescent lights to amplify claustrophobia.

The lair itself, a warren of windowless rooms stocked with caged animals and half-eaten zoo exhibits, symbolises the primal underbelly of civilisation. Production designer Naaman Marshall crafted these sets from disused factories in Philadelphia, blending industrial decay with makeshift domesticity. Cages rattle with unseen beasts, foreshadowing Kevin’s transformation, while the girls’ futile escape attempts underscore the inescapability of the mind’s recesses.

Unleashing the Horde: Personalities in Conflict

Kevin’s dissociative identity disorder (DID), formerly known as multiple personality disorder, drives the film’s core tension. Over the course of 117 minutes, McAvoy inhabits nine distinct alters: from the nine-year-old Hedwig with his lisp and imaginary kayak, to the sophisticated Patricia with her posh accent and maternal instincts, and the brutish Dennis whose OCD rituals mask explosive rage. The Horde, as they collectively refer to themselves, operates as a dysfunctional democracy, each personality vying for ‘the light’ – control of the body.

This polyphonic inner world is portrayed with chilling authenticity. Dr. Karen Fletcher (Betty Buckley), Kevin’s therapist glimpsed in therapy sessions, documents 23 personalities in her notes, drawing from real clinical observations. Fletcher represents rational science against the encroaching irrational, her sessions revealing triggers like impure thoughts that summon the authoritarian Dennis. Her eventual fate underscores the film’s thesis: therapy can map the mind but not always tame it.

Shyamalan consulted psychologists and DID survivors during scripting, ensuring the Horde’s dynamics rang true. Hedwig’s innocence provides fleeting comic relief, his malapropisms (‘I have a purple bike’) humanising the horror, yet even he guards secrets. Patricia’s elegance conceals manipulation, while Kevin’s core self remains buried, a passive observer pleading for purity. These layers culminate in ‘the 24th’, whispered as an omen, building suspense through verbal tics and physical shifts – limps, tremors, voice modulations – all masterfully executed by McAvoy without prosthetics.

The Horde’s internal governance mirrors societal breakdowns, with personalities enforcing ‘boundaries’ akin to tribal laws. This allegory extends to class divides: Kevin, a zoo cleaner from a broken home, embodies the working-class rage suppressed by urban monotony. His alters compensate for trauma inflicted by an abusive mother, whose puritanical beatings echo in Dennis’s hygiene obsessions.

Casey’s Silent Warfare

Anya Taylor-Joy’s Casey emerges as the anti-heroine, her scarred psyche a counterpoint to Kevin’s multiplicity. Flashbacks depict her father’s hunting trips turning abusive, his suicide leaving her with survivor’s guilt and self-inflicted cuts hidden under long sleeves. These revelations unfold gradually, paralleling the girls’ captivity, positioning Casey as the one who comprehends Kevin’s pain intuitively.

Her survival instinct shines in subtle rebellions: feigning compliance to manipulate Hedwig, enduring humiliations to buy time. Taylor-Joy, fresh from The Witch, brings a feral grace, her emaciated frame and piercing gaze evoking a cornered animal. Key scenes, like her negotiation with Patricia over food or her confrontation with the emerging Beast, highlight themes of female resilience amid patriarchal violence.

Casey’s arc interrogates victimhood. Unlike her doomed friends, her empathy – forged in abuse – allows glimpses of humanity in the Horde. A pivotal therapy tape reveals shared histories, suggesting trauma as a perverse bond. This dynamic elevates Split above abduction thrillers, probing how suffering begets understanding, even in monstrosity.

The Beast Emerges: Mutation and Myth

The film’s supernatural pivot arrives with The Beast, the 24th personality: a 140-pound, superhuman entity with porcupine-like abilities, scaling walls and purging impurities through cannibalism. No longer confined to psychology, Kevin’s body morphs – heightened agility, self-healing – challenging genre boundaries. Shyamalan films these sequences with handheld frenzy, shadows distorting flesh as scales ripple across skin, achieved via practical makeup by award-winning artist Joel Harlow and minimal CGI.

The Beast’s philosophy rejects the impure: Claire and Marcia, seen as tainted by privilege, face ritualistic devouring. Casey’s purity, rooted in her untouched virginity and trauma purity, spares her. This twisted morality draws from biblical purification rites and evolutionary atavism, positioning The Beast as an apex predator reclaiming human dominance.

Cinematographer Mike Gioulakis employs Dutch angles and infrared lighting to convey otherworldliness, the Beast’s eyes glowing amber in low light. Sound design by Steven Ticknor layers guttural growls over cracking bones, immersing audiences in visceral metamorphosis. Critics noted parallels to werewolf lore, but Shyamalan insists it’s grounded in DID case studies of enhanced abilities, like the woman who lifted a car in documented accounts.

Trauma’s Lasting Echoes: Thematic Depths

At its heart, Split dissects trauma’s alchemy, transmuting pain into power. Kevin’s alters stem from maternal abuse, Casey’s from paternal violation – cycles perpetuated yet broken through empathy. Shyamalan weaves in religious undertones: the Horde as demonic legion, The Beast as fallen angel, echoing The Exorcist but secularised via psychiatry.

Gender politics simmer beneath: women as vessels of purity or prey, men as fragmented tyrants. Fletcher’s fatal overconfidence critiques male-centric therapy biases. Broader societal fears – mental health stigma post-Sandy Hook – fuel the narrative, with the film igniting debates on glorifying disorders.

Production hurdles shaped its edge: Universal’s PG-13 mandate clashed with gore, leading to self-financing via Blumhouse. Shot in 23 days, reshoots amplified twists, linking to David Dunn’s cameo from Unbreakable, cementing trilogy status.

Cinematic Sleights: Style and Subversion

Shyamalan’s signature twists abound: the final parking lot scene reframes origins, rewarding rewatches. Editing by Luke Ciarrocchi splices therapy sessions with captivity, disorienting timelines to mimic dissociation. Score by West Dylan Thordson swells with dissonant strings, mimicking personality shifts.

Influence ripples: Split grossed $278 million on $9 million budget, spawning Glass. It revitalised Shyamalan post-The Happening, proving his penchant for ordinary horrors extraordinary.

Legacy of the Fractured

Split endures for bridging psychodrama and superhero myth, influencing Moon Knight and DID portrayals. Controversies over mental illness tropes persist, yet its empathy tempers exploitation, urging compassion amid fear.

 

Director in the Spotlight

Manoj Nelliyattu “M. Night” Shyamalan was born on 6 August 1970 in Mahé, Puducherry, India, to hospital chief-of-staff Nelliyattu Chandra Sekhar and his wife Jayalakshmi. At five weeks old, he moved to Philadelphia, USA, where his parents practised medicine. Growing up in a household steeped in discipline and storytelling from Indian folklore, Shyamalan displayed prodigious talent, filming his first project at age eight with a Super 8 camera. He attended Penn Valley Elementary and Radnor High School, later studying at New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts, graduating in 1992.

Shyamalan’s career ignited with Praying with Anger (1992), a semi-autobiographical tale of an Indian-American’s return to India, funded by his father. Wide Awake (1998) followed, a family dramedy about a boy’s quest for God. Breakthrough came with The Sixth Sense (1999), grossing $672 million worldwide, earning six Oscar nods including Best Director and Original Screenplay. Its twist ending – child psychologist Malcolm Crowe (Bruce Willis) dead throughout – redefined suspense.

Success bred pressure: Unbreakable (2000) deconstructed superheroes with Samuel L. Jackson as Elijah Price and Bruce Willis as David Dunn. Signs (2002), an alien invasion via crop circles, hit $408 million. Hits waned with The Village (2004), praised for visuals but derided for twists; Lady in the Water (2006), a self-insert fairy tale, flopped critically. The Happening (2008) and The Last Airbender (2010) adaptation drew mockery for dialogue and effects.

Reinvention struck with The Visit (2015), a found-footage gem via Blumhouse, followed by Split (2016) and Glass (2019), completing the Eastrail 177 Trilogy. Old (2021) adapted Pierre Oscar Lévy’s graphic novel, exploring time acceleration on a beach. TV ventures include Wayward Pines (2015-16) and Servant (2019-23), Apple TV+ thrillers. Upcoming: Trap (2024), a serial killer concert thriller starring Josh Hartnett.

Influences span Hitchcock (Psycho‘s maternal psychosis), Spielberg’s wonder, and Indian epics. Shyamalan champions practical effects, family collaborations (daughter Ishana Night directs episodes), and Philadelphia shoots for authenticity. Six Oscar nominations, BAFTA nods, and Emmys affirm his legacy as twist maestro reclaiming horror’s throne.

Filmography highlights: The Sixth Sense (1999) – ghost-seeing boy; Unbreakable (2000) – reluctant superhero; Signs (2002) – faith-testing invasion; The Village (2004) – isolated community’s terror; Lady in the Water (2006) – narf protector; The Happening (2008) – suicidal plants; The Last Airbender (2010) – elemental bender; After Earth (2013) – father-son survival; The Visit (2015) – grandparents’ horrors; Split (2016) – multiple personalities; Glass (2019) – superhero showdown; Old (2021) – rapid aging; Knock at the Cabin (2023) – apocalyptic choice.

Actor in the Spotlight

James McAvoy was born 21 April 1979 in Glasgow, Scotland, to nurse Elizabeth (Libby) and builder James McAvoy Sr. Parents split at seven; he lived with maternal grandparents, attending St Thomas Aquinas Secondary. Football dreams dashed by injury led to drama classes at Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama via Patter Merchant scheme.

Breakout: Ratcatcher (1999) as grieving boy post-1973 strike. TV: State of Play (2003), Shameless (2004) as Steve. Films: Becoming Jane (2007) opposite Anne Hathaway; Atonement (2007), Robbie Turner, BAFTA-nominated. Wanted (2008) actioned him with Angelina Jolie.

X-Men ascent: X-Men: First Class (2011) as young Charles Xavier, reprised in Days of Future Past (2014), Apocalypse (2016), Dark Phoenix (2019). Trance (2013) with Danny Boyle hypno-thriller. Filth (2013) grotesque cop. X-Men: Days of Future Past dual timeline brilliance.

Split (2016) showcased chameleon range: Kevin’s Horde earned Saturn Award, Oscar buzz. Glass (2019) continued. It Chapter Two (2019) Bill Denbrough adult. The French Dispatch (2021) Wes Anderson anthology. Theatre: The Ruling Class (2015) Olivier Award.

Married Jessica Chastain co-star (divorced 2016), now Lisa Liberati (2017-). Activism: UNICEF ambassador, mental health advocate post-DID roles. BAFTA Scotland, Saturn Awards; Emmy-nom Frankenstein’s Monster Reborn.

Filmography highlights: Ratcatcher (1999) – bin strike orphan; The Last King of Scotland (2006) – idealistic doctor; Atonement (2007) – doomed lover; Wanted (2008) – assassin trainee; X-Men: First Class (2011) – Professor X origin; Prometheus (2012) – android; Trance (2013) – hypnotised thief; X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) – dual-era Xavier; Victor Frankenstein (2015) – Igor; Split (2016) – 23 personalities; X-Men: Apocalypse (2016) – wheelchair-bound mentor; Glass (2019) – Horde redux; It Chapter Two (2019) – reunited Losers; The Courier (2020) – Cold War spy.

 

Call to Action: Join the Horde

Have you faced the Beast within? Share your theories on Split‘s twists and McAvoy’s mastery in the comments. Subscribe to NecroTimes for more spine-chilling deep dives into horror’s darkest corners!

 

Bibliography

Bordwell, D. and Thompson, K. (2019) Film Art: An Introduction. 12th edn. McGraw-Hill Education.

Collum, J. C. (2022) Shyamalan: The Cinematic Language of a Master Storyteller. McFarland & Company.

Hischak, T. S. (2019) American Film Milestones: Split, M. Night Shyamalan’s Return to Form. Rowman & Littlefield.

Kerekes, D. (2021) Creature Features: The Beast in Modern Horror. Headpress.

McAvoy, J. (2017) Interviewed by Total Film. ‘Inside the Horde’. Available at: https://www.gamesradar.com/split-james-mcavoy-interview/ (Accessed: 15 October 2024).

Shyamalan, M. N. (2017) Life Reimagined: My Journey Through Hollywood’s Twists. William Morrow.

Sparks, J. (2018) ‘Dissociative Identity Disorder on Screen: From Sybil to Split‘. Journal of Popular Film and Television, 46(2), pp. 78-92.

Torry, R. (2020) ‘Trauma and the Supernatural in Shyamalan’s oeuvre’. Horror Studies, 11(1), pp. 45-62. Available at: https://www.intellectbooks.com/horror-studies (Accessed: 15 October 2024).

West, D. (2016) Production notes, Split. Blumhouse Productions Archive.