Filmed in Nausea-Cam!
There are two things I need to say right away about Cloverfield: 1) I am so relieved and happy that it wasn't, as a strange rumor I'd heard before its release, a gigantic lion, and 2) it was far better than I expected.
We saw it opening night, braving the late-night crowds of hipsters flocking to see the most highly anticipated, viral-marketed movie of the new year. Eric had heard some rumor that the monster that attacks Manhattan in the movie was a gigantic lion; with that in mind, I remarked, "If it actually is a giant lion, this will officially be the stupidest movie we've ever seen, which is saying a lot, considering the last thing we saw together was National Treasure 2."
We took our seats (near an aisle, in case it proved to be a lion, and also to account for my cinematic claustrophobia) and prepared for the uncertainty. The story is self-contained: the entire thing is contained on a tape found in the rubble of Central Park; the tape has been recorded over, allowing fragments of two stories to interrupt each other. In that way, it's reminiscent of E.T.A. Hoffmann's The Life and Opinions of the Tomcat Murr, a novel that, through a printer's error, weaves two stories together on alternating pages.
After a slow start, in which the small group of primary characters are introduced, we are then rewarded with the nonstop action and chaos once the monster appears on the scene. The image of the Statue of Liberty's head flying through the air and then bouncing to a stop in the streets of Lower Manhattan serves to introduce us to the confusion that follows. Director Matt Reeves does us the favor of never giving us too close or too long a glimpse of the creature: it appears to be a gigantic hybrid of a bat and a mantis, releasing fast-running spawn. The first-person narration of the story offers no insight into the origin, nature, or final disposition of the monster; the hand-held camera perspective jostles us and draws us into the action and confusion of the moment, at times jumping and spinning so much as to produce a visceral reaction. Fortunately, nobody seemed to get sick, although I've heard that has happened to some viewers.
My favorite moment was a dig at the Motorola Razr cell phone, which, from personal experience, is notorious for its short battery life; in the movie, one of the characters tries to call his love interest, only to discover the battery on his Razr is dead. He goes to loot a nearby electronics store and steals a Nokia.
In short, it's a gimmicky movie, but a good time nonetheless. And one would assume, in light of the severe restrictions on the perspective - first person, told by a found videotape - that a sequel is unlikely. See it once, and be sure to stay for the only original music, the "Cloverfield Overture", which blasts its way throughout the closing credits with soprano solo, timpani, and a full orchestra riffing along on an over-the-top monster-movie theme that weighs almost as much as the film itself.
UPDATE: My hopes have been dashed.
We saw it opening night, braving the late-night crowds of hipsters flocking to see the most highly anticipated, viral-marketed movie of the new year. Eric had heard some rumor that the monster that attacks Manhattan in the movie was a gigantic lion; with that in mind, I remarked, "If it actually is a giant lion, this will officially be the stupidest movie we've ever seen, which is saying a lot, considering the last thing we saw together was National Treasure 2."
We took our seats (near an aisle, in case it proved to be a lion, and also to account for my cinematic claustrophobia) and prepared for the uncertainty. The story is self-contained: the entire thing is contained on a tape found in the rubble of Central Park; the tape has been recorded over, allowing fragments of two stories to interrupt each other. In that way, it's reminiscent of E.T.A. Hoffmann's The Life and Opinions of the Tomcat Murr, a novel that, through a printer's error, weaves two stories together on alternating pages.
After a slow start, in which the small group of primary characters are introduced, we are then rewarded with the nonstop action and chaos once the monster appears on the scene. The image of the Statue of Liberty's head flying through the air and then bouncing to a stop in the streets of Lower Manhattan serves to introduce us to the confusion that follows. Director Matt Reeves does us the favor of never giving us too close or too long a glimpse of the creature: it appears to be a gigantic hybrid of a bat and a mantis, releasing fast-running spawn. The first-person narration of the story offers no insight into the origin, nature, or final disposition of the monster; the hand-held camera perspective jostles us and draws us into the action and confusion of the moment, at times jumping and spinning so much as to produce a visceral reaction. Fortunately, nobody seemed to get sick, although I've heard that has happened to some viewers.
My favorite moment was a dig at the Motorola Razr cell phone, which, from personal experience, is notorious for its short battery life; in the movie, one of the characters tries to call his love interest, only to discover the battery on his Razr is dead. He goes to loot a nearby electronics store and steals a Nokia.
In short, it's a gimmicky movie, but a good time nonetheless. And one would assume, in light of the severe restrictions on the perspective - first person, told by a found videotape - that a sequel is unlikely. See it once, and be sure to stay for the only original music, the "Cloverfield Overture", which blasts its way throughout the closing credits with soprano solo, timpani, and a full orchestra riffing along on an over-the-top monster-movie theme that weighs almost as much as the film itself.
UPDATE: My hopes have been dashed.
Labels: artistic pretense, monsters
posted by Unknown at 11:15 PM
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