Ever since the media declared M. Night Shyamalan to be the new Hitchcock and a cinematic messiah on the back of one film (and indeed, one plot twist) he’s been fighting an uphill battle. The more he ploughs his own furrow, the more it seems that the media hates him for not being what they decided he was going to be after The Sixth Sense. Which is sad, because – love it or hate it – what he’s actually doing is pretty interesting.

The critical maltreatment of Shyamalan – both of his films and himself – is particularly relevant to Lady in the Water, because on many levels, it’s exactly what his new movie is about. There’s even a film critic character in there, who nearly derails the story by assuming that he knows more about what’s going on than the director himself. But besides that, it’s so self-conscious and so self-absorbed a film that at times it feels like Shyamalan is sticking two fingers up at his detractors, ignoring the traditional rules of narrative storytelling, plausibility and coherence out of sheer spite.

If you have any intention at all of seeing Lady in the Water then the less you know about the plot, the better. Even a rough outline gives too much away; or more to the point, creates expectations that will leave you wrong-footed. It can be loosely classified as fantasy, but in the sense that it’s about fantasy, not in the sense that it’s easy to pigeon-hole. It deals primarily with ideas of story, about the need in troubled times for precisely the kind of fiction that Shyamalan is offering. And if that sounds pretentiously post-modern – well, it is.

Lady in the Water is an intensely personal and occasionally obtuse film, and one that makes pretty heavy demands of its audience. If you question it too much then it falls to pieces. But if you surrender wholeheartedly to its daft logic, its sweet innocence and its faith, then Shyamalan provides a great watching experience, one that leaves you feeling happy and uplifted, if perhaps slightly baffled.

Whether you can do that – well, Shyamalan’s appealing, funny script is a great help for the most part, but there are a handful of horribly duff lines, and they always threaten to puncture the reality. When they don’t it’s usually thanks to a save on the part of one of his mostly excellent ensemble cast, and usually Paul Giamatti, who’s better here than he was even in American Splendor. And whatever Shyamalan’s merits as a writer, he’s undoubtedly a very good director, with an amazing knack for visual storytelling. Helped no end by Chris (Hero) Doyle, the greatest cinematographer on earth, he creates an insular, magical world where it’s easy to suspend your disbelieve.

All I can say is that I loved Lady in the Water. A lot of people don’t – judging by the reviews, a lot of people really hate it. That’s fair enough in a way; there’s no getting around the fact that it’s totally self-indulgent, so obsessed with the themes that dominate Shyamalan’s work that it’s almost like a blueprint of itself.

But then, maybe its creator – surely one of the more distinctive, fascinating and maligned voices in contemporary cinema – has earned the right to over-indulge himself just this once.