PG-13

M. Night Shyamalan might be called a two-trick pony. Since “The Sixth Sense” was released in 1999, Shyamalan became the go-to guy for films with twist endings and a tangible sense of apprehension. Everyone in “Unbreakable,” “Signs” and “The Village” was waiting around for something scary or disastrous to happen. But when the climax finally arrived, it always turned out that what everyone, including the viewer, was waiting for wasn’t really what was going on. And so the novel and fairly clever twists of “The Sixth Sense” and “Unbreakable” soon became tired and worn, and instead of immersing himself or herself in the film, the viewer would cast a cynical eye on where or when the next fake-out would strike. When “The Village” hit theaters, Shyamalan received a massive drubbing from critics.

His latest, “Lady in the Water,” seemed doomed before the cameras rolled. Luckily for Shyamalan and for the audience, “Lady” is a refreshing back-to-basics sort of movie, a simple, pared-down thriller that maintains his gift for atmosphere and tension but ditches the artificial endings and plot acrobatics.

Based on a bedtime tale Shyamalan wrote for his children, “Lady” is a story about telling stories. It’s steeped in, and overtly references, Joseph Campbell’s lessons in mythology. Cleveland Heep (Paul Giamatti), a maintenance man at an apartment complex called The Cove, discovers a mysterious girl named Story (Bryce Dallas Howard) swimming in The Cove’s pool late one night. Story carries quite a tale with her, about an ancient race of water-dwelling folk who can influence the spiritual and social evolution of humanity. To do that, Story must make contact with a writer living in The Cove. Of course, there are monsters afoot, and it will take a quirky group of residents to help Story fulfill her destiny.

Just as her name implies, Story is the story, and Howard doesn’t have much to work with acting-wise. Cleveland Heep is the real hero on the journey here, and his search for redemption is what drives “Lady.” There’s lots of talk of interpreting symbols and identifying archetypes, and the rules about how and why and what the hero can do are explicitly laid out for everyone to see.

However, “Lady” never becomes annoyingly pedantic. That’s largely the result of Giamatti, whose hangdog expressions and paternalistic resignation camouflage a sense of surety and purpose. Giamatti’s character leads us through the sort of exposition that, in the hands of a less capable director, would kill a film. But Shyamalan breaks it all up with a deft mix of comedy and scares and a menagerie of lovable, one-dimensional characters. It’s such a simple tale that, as Giamatti shambles about the building gathering residents for his crazy plan, it’s easy to overlook the self-referential nature of the movie. Shyamalan casts himself as the sought-after writer in the story, a move that’s either incredibly vain or simply an extension of the meta-fictional mechanics of “Lady,” depending on how you interpret it.

The beauty of “Lady” is that there isn’t much to interpret, though. There are sour notes along the way—a violent attack on a film critic living in the building feels mean-spirited and breaks the fourth wall a little too much—but the ending is satisfying and free of artifice. “Lady” is not high art, but it’s absolutely a good story.