Walrus Comix Movie Review:
'Cloverfield'

Voyeurism has always had a place in monster movies. Regardless of the specific monster mash at hand, there has always been a hormonal charge in seeing someone else's decidedly movable object get its just desserts at the hands of an otherworldly unstoppable force. Having conquered television via shows like Alias and Lost, J.J. Abrams has found a way to marry his small screen aesthetic with our collective fascination with all things viral in his collaboration with director Matt Reeves. Cloverfield is a highly entertaining take on the classic monster movie motif that derives most of its effectiveness from its jarring sense of immediacy.

Cloverfield is perhaps the first movie since The Blair Witch Project to truly capitalize on the thirst for postmodern interaction that marks (or mars) our current cultural landscape. As seen through the eye of the world's sturdiest mini-DV cam, the tale of a rampaging behemoth in NYC forgoes standard Hollywood fare in lieu of successive punches to the gut. While the film does feature a first act that functions as an erstwhile exposition, it finds it legs, figurative and otherwise, once the destruction begins and Manhattan burns. The holder of the all-important video camera in question is dispatched at the beginning of the film with the intention of documenting a going-away party thrown by a group of midtown friends for one of their own. The people who encompass this circle are your garden variety scruffily hipster NYC twentysomethings, which is to say that not much is offered to dispel the notion that it's better that they offer themselves up as sacrificial lambs as opposed to the rest of us. While the performances of the largely unknown cast are fine (especially de facto lead Michael Stahl-David), it's clear from the onset that they truly are the bit players in this affair. As the first thuds and guttural growls make their way across the city, the anticipation is immediately focused upon the Statue of Liberty's least hospitable guest and the havoc it unleashes.

Once the partygoers are dispatched to the rooftops and streets in an effort to get a glimpse of the proceedings, Cloverfield ramps up its intensity and proceeds to weave its path of destruction with precious few cinematic equivalents of coming up for air. It's almost impossible to discuss the movie without giving a nod to the brilliant viral marketing campaign Abrams and company unleashed through a variety of mediums, and much of the anticipation rightfully rests with unmasking the signature monster at play. Reeves and Abrams do an excellent job of showcasing their offender, yet they bolster the monster's effectiveness by constantly focusing on the effect its presence has on the population. Though the cast takes a backseat to the carnage storywise, the paranoia-tinged terror they feel as they dart through the streets is palpable and ultimately believable. Whereas watching Godzilla step on some hapless observer is always good for a chuckle, the human toll visited upon the Big Apple has an appropriately desperate tone attached to it. The genuine feel of the chaos depicted is obviously reinforced by allegorical conceits that recall images transmitted around the globe of a New York City in peril on 9/11 that infuse the story with added punch while stopping short of wholesale exploitation. As with Blair Witch, the film is neither for the faint of heart nor faint of stomach, as the camerawork does occasionally induce a few pangs of vertigo. The jumpy camera is a small price to pay for the immediacy proffered, though, as the realization that you're trapped in a firefight between the national guard and a monster hell-bent on leveling the Manhattan skyline is pretty unique. Whether Abrams' aim was to tap into our interests in transitive celebrity and apocalyptic anxiety or simply unleash a proper midwinter popcorn movie, Cloverfield succeeds as a 21st century monster movie in which bark and bite prove equally effective.

-Brant Miles