Cast: Michael Stahl-David, Mike Vogel, Odette Yustman, Lizzy Caplan, Jessica Lucas

Director: Matt Reeves

Screenplay: Drew Goddard

Running time: 1 hr 25 mins

Genre: Suspense/Sci-fi/Pseudo-Documentary


CRITIQUE:


By now, probably the whole world knows what CLOVERFIELD is all about. It’s that film that was secretly campaigned through the invisible wires of internet, coming from an unknown source, as though it was a form of viral marketing that infested the web all of a sudden. Trailer leaks, hushed shoots, and secretive operation; it made anyone with a computer and a mouse clicking and trailing the mystery in a hyperactive frenzy. Now the secret is out. For some, they call it “that shaky monster-movie”. But to the world of cinema, CLOVERFIELD is that brief, impulsive, transfixing experience that rarely, and distinctly, blesses the silverscreen. Calling it a monster-movie is only justifiable. Calling it bland is murder.


There’s no denial that the concept is a clever one that most filmmakers would stab to come up upon. Rip off GODZILLA and let’s shot the film via THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT. Really, it’s only part of the plan: CLOVERFIELD’s essence is not to play epic scale on its audience but rather show the terrifyingly unfolding events through withheld camcorder, almost so tangible you could almost find yourself believing it. Of course, who would not relate this concept as a resonance to America’s haunting 9/11 nightmare, and since the terror is fresh, to the post-9/11 world, it’s almost as real as terror right in front of our eyes. One irrefutable instance of this is when the decapitated head of the Statue of Liberty goes careering into the scene, and it stumbles to the audience that intuitive pathos of a nightmare difficult to forget.


For anyone expecting a story with moving emotions, sweeping hero’s rescuing damsels in distress amid a heartbreaking score, you might as well pop up a KING KONG DVD in your local home entertainment system. CLOVERFIELD is as simplistic as it is plausible: one bloke named Rob (Michael Stahl-David) gets a surprise party in his flat and in the middle of the merriment comes an unexpected blast from nowhere. New York is under attack. Characters starts to chase into the streets for survival, but our hero Rob runs to find his girl and struggles to save her. Enter frighteningly gripping scenes. From the collapsing of the bridge, to the tight, breath-hitching dark tunnel scene, to the rescue in the nearly-falling building – it’s all captured in a very convincing “shaky” photography as though it was Danny Boyle all over again in his unnerving 28 DAYS LATER. Nevertheless, CLOVERFIELD is so unnerving you probably can’t remember how many times you have held your breath throughout the film.


Where JJ Abrams excels as a major producer, concealing this template as though he suddenly own the web-sphere, it’s actually Matt Reeves who should get the plaudits for being the man behind the lens. It’s all deceptive, from the rocket explosions, to the fiery mushroom clouds, even the crumbling buildings and havoc everywhere, it all seamlessly blend into the view. The monster, also, is a cunning decision not to be divulged straight away. Keeping it away from the camera makes it more believable, reducing audience to be gawk at news reels, a glimpse of a leg here, a tail there; which makes it all the more effective. Knowing it’s there but not seeing it provides real fear more imaginable than seeing GODZILLA beside Empire State Building. However, the most brilliant production resolve of all is not to over-exert the presence of the monster (which looked like a gigantic spidery-parasite by the way, oops spoiler!) but to use it as part of the background and focus on this group of individuals experiencing the terror enshrouding the city.


By the moment the film ends and shows us a quiet black screen, somebody just moaned in the cinema “Is that it?”, probably dissatisfied. It should be prominently thrust into these movie audiences that CLOVERFIELD isn’t about grand, lavish production. There’s no apology to say that people who wasn’t alarmed even a little bit by this don’t get the main essence of the film itself. Here is a different piece of cinema that is unique and spontaneous that plays on human beings’ primal terror. And who says scenes of terrorism is captured by professional cameraman’s, let alone visionary movie directors? Reality check: from the movie’s very beginning (showing the U.S. Security reel) to the its very last shot – it echoes that true scenes of terror are captured by the Youtube generation, amateur people with camera mobiles, kids on the streets who happen to be holding videocams, and so on. And mostly, unapologetically, CLOVERFIELD never explains the reason of the terror’s existence. It doesn’t need to. As far as the world is concerned, as soon as we experience terror, there’s no explanation; there is only terror and threat.


THE FINAL WORD:


Infuriating camera movements are not flaws but reasons to an existence of a much more infuriatingly brilliant concept. It takes a genre and a B-movie element, then pins it down to Earth’s level with fear-provoking realism. CLOVERFIELD might cause grunts, groans and grumbles to unperceptive audience – but, man, have I been so gripped from start to finish.


RATING: A-