This is not “Good Shyamalan.” It is well below The Sixth Sense and not on par with Unbreakable and Split either. Instead, it’s a barely worthwhile attempt to extend the universe he created in its predecessors. But it’s interesting.
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Eastwood is making a habit of taking events that took just a few minutes and stretching them into feature length films. He achieves this by showing the event over and over and filling the runtime with backstory that only loosely relates. The 15:17 to Paris represents the very worst of this habit, coupled with production values that feel more like the efforts of a high school drama class than a four-time Oscar winner.