Cloverfield

Posted on | 4 years ago, in the late evening | 3 Comments

[Possible mild spoilers to follow -- but mostly just some conversation, and perhaps a couple of things that you could reasonably gather from the previews.]

So a handful of NYC young folks at a buddy’s going-away party document an uncanny critter apocalypse. It’s such a gently obvious concept that I’m surprised no one’s done it so spectacularly before: what would it really look like — from the ground — if a giant monster invaded and/or tried to eat a major metropolitan area? Two parts old-school Godzilla and one part Blair Witch Project with a dash of 28 Days Later, Cloverfield is a wild and frantic addition to the Mysterious Incoming City-Stomping Beast canon.

I do admit, this one begins with a bad case of too much boyfriend, not enough roller derby — but once that’s out of the way, the story is fast-paced, frenetic, stressful, scary, and mostly quite credible. The imperiled people with the camera run to and fro in a reasonable fashion (more or less), and there’s a satisfyingly realistic amount of sheer legwork that rather impressed me.

Often in catastrophe flicks, there’s a certain measure of hemming and hawing about all the dashing around from scene to scene, but in Cloverfield the grueling aspects of a survival scenario aren’t given short shrift. These people are exhausted, and battered, and scared shitless, and the hideous slog of simply moving from place to place does not let up. Rubble collects in piles the size of city blocks. Skyscrapers lean against one another and threaten to topple at any moment. The military cuts off corridors by necessity. Subterranean avenues are dark, cluttered with monsters, and wholly uncertain. Prepositions are far from simple; there’s no easy way up, over, out, or through.

If I were forced to furnish a gripe, it’d be one I’ve often trotted out before when it comes to horror movies: there’s simply no good reason (at several crucial plot points) why nobody thinks to grab a weapon. Sure, there’s not much for a tire iron to do against a creature the size of the Eiffel Tower; but all the wee subcreatures go down with just a couple of swings — and our heroes are shown as having access to a variety of Level One weapons. An enormous (nondescript) metal bar, a crowbar, and a fireman’s ax all put in an obvious and useful appearance, but nobody ever hangs on to the object for more than a few minutes. I mean, come on. We’re all tool-wielding primates here, right? We’ve got a big monster that we can only survive by dodging, and a host of smaller monsters that (a). look much like spiders and (b). are the size of German Shepherds, but you can beat the bitches back without too much trouble. So what do you do? Do you abandon the pickax in the skull of the critter you kill? No. No, you do not. Do you leave your crowbar down in the break room? No. No, you should probably keep it with you.

But anyway. Minor quibbles aside, when all is said and done Cloverfield is a gritty, exceedingly good study of how dreadfully personal a sweeping disaster can be. This is as fine a monster movie as I’ve seen in quite some time, and if you’re a fan of the genre, it’s definitely worth watching.

* * * * *

In other news, my New Year’s Resolution remains intact, but I’m feeling rather ill at the moment and I can’t be bothered to dig up the stats. Likewise, I got out and did stuff last night — and I even took a few pictures* — but Richelle has a better write-up than I’m prepared to provide.

Have a good evening, everyone. I’m going to have some 7-Up and lie down, I think.
Stupid movie popcorn and stupid too much fake butter.
Stupid stupid stupid.

Grr…


* Not of the afterparty, though. I forgot and left my camera behind.

Category: misc

Comments

3 Responses to “Cloverfield”

  1. Cyndy
    January 20th, 2008 @ 11:20 am

    I didn’t realize going in that Cloverfield was basically filmed hand-held style the whole way through. Definitely one of those films that should come with a warning label to take a Dramamine prior to watching if you’re prone to vertigo. Other than leaving the theater thoroughly nauseous, I didn’t really have much to quibble on; I did very much enjoy it.

  2. Mike
    January 20th, 2008 @ 12:29 pm

    In my experience, grabbing and never letting go of a weapon is an instinct so far down in the lizard brain that it’s unlikely anyone would forget to bring their weapon, even if it was a small stick.

  3. Cherie
    January 20th, 2008 @ 8:15 pm

    One would think, Mike.
    One would think.

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