This movie is screaming for a restoration. Even in a terrible YouTube rip, you can tell how much work Shyamalan and his DP Madhu Ambat did, how much care was put into the framing, lighting, and color palette of what I’m betting was once a gorgeous-looking first feature. As debuts go, it’s part and parcel of ‘90s independent film, from the specificity of its coming-of-age narrative to the horror of its semi-obligatory violent climax. It’s also dull and dramatically inert, too scattershot and awkwardly-written to find much of an emotional anchor, and the amateur-hour acting does it no favors. Still, the number of nascent thematic and stylistic hallmarks present in Praying with Anger make it an essential curio for Shyamalan heads.