[continued from: “Inglourious Basterds”]

An example from the movies. [I am still not sure, who exactly is the narrator in a movie. As a first working hypothesis, I’ll opt for the camera – steered or given its voice, of course, by the screenwriter’s script and the director’s handicraft.]

Remember when you first watched “The Sixth Sense”? [Spoiler warning: If you haven’t seen the movie and still want to, stop reading here and turn to another category.]

Now be honest: Did you at any point suspect that the character played by Bruce Willis was a ghost? Admit it – you didn’t! Like most movie-goers you were utterly taken by surprise when the revelation was made. To be sure, there were some strange scenes. The wedding-day dinner in the restaurant, for example, when you would have expected some kind of scene or mouthed remonstrances from the wife. Or the fact, that the psychologist is never seen talking to the boy’s mother. But the implications of these scenes only become obvious in retrospect. You accept these scenes as just being strange, maybe because the whole film breathes strangeness. Or maybe because you find your prejudices against psychologists and their wives confirmed.

Because the camera in “The Sixth Sense” is a superb liar in retrospect. A liar who leaves clues of his lying all over the film and yet isn’t found out by the audience. It’s the narrator’s triumph in the end to have you go through the film again, trying to find all the clues and wondering if you could (should?) have suspected the truth.