It’s been 25 years since ‘Sixth Sense’ — What the hell is M. Night Shyamalan doing?

Twenty-five years ago, on Aug. 6, 1999, “The Sixth Sense” hit theaters, and the horror movie and its director M. Night Shyamalan became worldwide sensations.

Thrilled, Post critic Rod Dreher said in his review of the Bruce Willis classic that “‘The Sixth Sense,’ written and directed by a precocious young Philadelphian named M. Night Shyamalan, is the summer’s biggest surprise.”

Commenting on its iconic ending — the kind of cinematic water cooler moment that doesn’t exist anymore — he added, “It’s the only shock in ‘The Sixth Sense’ greeted not with a shriek, but with a gasp at how masterfully plotted this superb film is.”

The movie was nominated for the Oscar for Best Picture (back when there were only five nominees), and Shyamalan made the cut for Best Director. 

But a quarter century is an awfully long time ago. “Masterfully plotted” and “superb” are no longer words the public associates with Shyamalan.

A young Haley Joel Osment might’ve seen dead people, but these days I see a dead career — M. Night’s.

With “The Sixth Sense,” the writer-director simultaneously broke out and peaked. The man has never made a movie even half as good since. And, believe you me, it’s not for lack of trying.

The most frightening part of Shyamalan’s recent films is attending them, so bad they are. 

His projects amount to little more than over-excited, puffed-up pitches that drone on and on.

(Weirdly, Shyamalan also wrote “Stuart Little”).

But because of the brilliant payoff of “Sixth Sense” — up there with “I am your father” from “The Empire Strikes Back” — audiences rightly expect these outlandish ideas to deliver big-time. 

They rarely, if ever, do. And the action, such as it is, that precedes the final twist has become increasingly hackneyed and tedious.

Take last weekend’s ridiculous “Trap,” a slog about a serial killer who’s sought by the FBI during a stake-out at a T-Swift-like concert. 

A dopey Josh Hartnett, as the murderer, spends most of the 100 minutes checking if various doors are locked while spouting off asinine dialogue. 

In last year’s “Knock at the Cabin,” four creeps take two men and their daughter prisoner until one agrees to sacrifice himself. A good time was had by none.

I thought “Old,” about a beach where the inhabitants rapidly deteriorate, was an improvement. It was fun, at least. 

But I nonetheless wrote that it was “campy, poorly written, candy-colored and subtle as Eurovision.”

Here’s how Post critics have judged M. Night’s exhausting oeuvre over the years. 

“The Village”: “a dud too intent on delivering its liberal ‘message’”

“The Last Airbender”: “finally hits rock bottom.”

“The Lady in the Water”: “a charmless, unscary, fatuous and largely incoherent fairy tale.”

“After Earth”: “a vaguely L. Ron Hubbard-ish story, for what is laughably described in the press notes as a ‘franchise.’”

“The Happening”: “It’s just setup, setup, setup, the end.”

There have been some bright-ish spots. James McAvoy’s 23-personality performance in “Split” was well-regarded. And critics generally OK’d the creepy grandparents-house movie “The Visit,” even if audiences gave it a measly 52% on RottenTomatoes. 

But M. Night’s winners come around about as often as a total solar eclipse. 

Perhaps one day, the director will rediscover the spark of filmmaking ingenuity that put him on the map in the first place. But don’t hold your breath.

Instead, give the fantastic “Sixth Sense” a rewatch, and you’ll encounter the greatest twist of all: 

“I see an actually good M. Night Shyamalan movie!”