It would be easy to chalk up Cloverfield as some kind of Blair Witch Project meets Godzilla gimmick, and while that description of the hook is not wholly inaccurate, it also threatens to be too dismissive of a film that delivers a clever twist on perhaps the oldest sci-fi/horror staple of all: The Giant Monster Movie. It's not the life-changing movie experience the intense viral marketing attention would lead you to think it is, but its decision to focus on ground-level humanism rather than epic disaster is what separates it from the pack. Just be warned, though, that this is, indeed, a movie told from the POV of a civilian with a handi-cam, so if you found yourself slightly nauseous watching three kids ramble slowly through the woods in search of witches, bring Dramamine if you intend to watch a camcorder run full out while being chased by monsters.
It's hard to delve into a review of Cloverfield without first comparing it to a very similarly-themed film that came out not too long ago, Frank Darabont's The Mist. In both, mysterious tentacled creatures invade without warning (well, for the most part) but the focus is not, as in a Godzilla movie, on the beasts but on the very human lives the beasts' attacks uproot and destroy. Darabont (and, by extension, author Stephen King) chose to set this attack against a figuratively and literally blank background (a generic supermarket in a generic town in a generic Northeastern state) which allowed the all-too-relevant themes (fear used to control, blind faith versus action, distrust and fear of the unknown) to play out in a microcosm. Cloverfield director Reeves, however, doesn't just mean to hint at the war on terror, he's making the connection directly by pitting the action firmly in Manhattan and by focusing on terrified New Yorkers fleeing what, for most of the film, appears to be random explosions and massive clouds of dust. But grander themes aside, both Reeves and Darabont are successful because they understand that the monsters are not the point — Reeves actually does Darabont one better by never even offering anything by way of explanation for its arrival. People who are going to flock to Cloverfield just to finally see what the monster looks like are going to be disappointed because that's really not the point. No, the real engine that drives the movie is the core group of friends (comprised of semi-familiar faces, but no big stars) and their convincing chemistry. We do get several good looks at the beast at certain points in the film, and it's oddly generic—a mash-up of Chthulu, Godzilla, a frog, and that giant praying mantis thing that Obi-Wan Kenobi fought in the gladiator arena in Star Wars Episode II. It's not given a name, a personality, or anything. It is just there, and we (through the eyes of the frightened group of friends fighting for survival) have to just deal with it the best we can.
There are several good set-pieces (the subway tunnel attack, in particular, is the film's only true horror movie sequence, and it's a doozy), the story chugs along at a quick pace, and it ends on a note that at first seems to echo Darabont's "we're all screwed, no matter what" bleakness, but actually seems to hold at least a faint glimmer of life-affirming hope. But we do mean "faint."
READ MORE: 20 Movies That Destroy New York
WATCH TV COMMERCIAL #1
