Cloverfield (2008)

 

Cloverfield (2008)

 

As a proud New Yorker, I say my city deserves more Giant Monster movies.

 

OK, I know, we’ve had several. “King Kong” came three times (1933, 1976, & 2005), “Godzilla” once (1998, and we were disappointed), plus “The Giant Mantis” (1957), “Q” (1982), and who could forget the Stay Puffed Marshmallow Man (“Ghostbusters” (1984)) -- but still, Tokyo gets more, Los Angeles gets nearly as many, and un-named desert towns in the middle of nowhere are literally over-run with them.

 

New York City is the GREATEST CITY IN THE WORLD! So, what do these wandering-else-where film-makers think? That we can’t rebuild as fast as the Japanese?  Cause we all know that Godzilla, Gamera, Ghidorah, et all, are merely shills for Real Estate concerns, and a lot of money is being made off of post-mayhem re-construction contracts. Didn’t you notice that after more than a decade of inactivity, Godzilla’s resurgence correlated with Japan’s economic crisis of 1991 through 2001? It was all propaganda in service of tax-payer-funded “stimulus” projects.

 

Lemme tell you kid, everything is secretly a Real Estate scam. Read the novel “Dracula” (1987), that one starts with a Real Estate scam too!

 

Producers J. J. Abrams (who came up with the original concept) and Bryan Burk, along with Screenwriter Drew Goddard and Director Matt Reeves, (most of these men are very frequent collaborators) gave us the most recent Giant Monster Movie set in NYC is any real note by squeezing at least six ideas into the tiny space of 85 minutes (several minutes shorter without the end-credits):

 

1.  The shameful lack of attention that Giant Monsters were giving my city. The guys listed above recognized this, but none are actual NYers.

2.  The potency of a film poster. The original movie had no bearing on the plot of this one, but was so evocative it demanded multiple narratives (“Escape from New York” (1981), which, by the way, was created by another non-NYer John Carpenter).

3.  The impulse to explore an idea of some social significance, that I-Phones and cheap digital cameras have created a world where nothing happens until somebody catches it on video, uploads it to the internet and streams live to the rest of the world.

4.  A cathectic easing of the terrors of 9/11 into the safety of a B-movie (yes, this was expensive, but its heart is totally B-movie) just like the terrors of the Atom bomb were shifted in that direction generations before (example: the original “Godzilla” (1954)). As Abrams wrote, "We live in a time of great fear … having a movie that is about something as outlandish as a massive creature attacking your city allows people to process and experience that fear in a way that is incredibly entertaining and incredibly safe."

5.  The FX technology had recently improved, and every new FX improvement requires a new Giant Monster.

6.  The grim fact that the more valuable your condo, the more worth saving you are.

 

Fast paced, and juggling so many ideas at one time, it is not surprising that the film mastered what was most obviously visually compelling, but fell behind regarding what was more emotional and intellectual. I love this movie, but I’m aware it’s shallow, and I totally respect the opinion of all those who hate it.

 

An introductory note tells us that what we’re are about to see is footage recovered by the Department of Defense, so like “The Blair Witch Project” (1999) we’re warned from the get-go this story is not going to have a happy ending.

 

Everything was (allegedly) recorded on the same digital camera, and the action of the main story was recorded over what was there before, so there’s occasional intrusions of flashbacks because of glitches in the camera’s video storage. (Digital cameras don’t really work that way, but it’s such a nice narrative device, so we’ll overlook it.) The film also mimics the style of a “real-time” movie (think “Rope” (1948)), though the story-time must be longer than the film’s 84 minutes, maybe six hours, maybe even twelve. How did the camera’s battery last that long? (Again, we happily overlook it.)

 

We start with Robert "Rob" Hawkins (Michael Stahl-David) who has just fallen in love with Beth McIntyre (Odette Yustman) and is video recording their first days together because, well, I guess, that’s what kids do now. There’re a lovely couple minutes with them together on Coney Island in Brooklyn, riding the Wonder Wheel, acting like tourists in their own city, because they both live on Manhattan Island, and as every school child knows, once a Manhattanite goes to Brooklyn, they’re as out-of-place as someone from Idaho visiting Times Square. 

 

If only the main characters had actually lived in Brooklyn (joining the forces of unstoppable gentrification that drove me out of Park Slope!) everyone would’ve lived. But no, the cameras’ recorded footage then jumps forward a few weeks or months later and bring us into the main story which starts at a party in Lower Manhattan, in super-affluent neighborhood of Chelsea. Rob is celebrating that his impending departure for a job in Japan (that must have been meant as an in-joke) with his friends.

 

At the party, Hudson "Hud" Platt (T.J. Miller) has gotten a hold of Rob’s camera and recording testimonials from Rob’s friends who are sorry to see him go. Really important to this film’s mannerisms is that Hud barely knows how to hold the damned thing, but for most of the rest of the film, refuses to hand it over.

 

Though a big-budget film, its most direct influence was the ultra-low-budget “Blair Witch Project,” the single most successful film ever to exploit the Pseudo-Documentary/Found-Footage conceit. “Blair Witch …” set itself up that it could use two cameras, but “Cloverfield” needed to retain the illusion there was only one. How they managed that was pretty masterful.

 

Perhaps the film’s greatest stylistic triumph is a bait-and-switch. The illusion of realism is a hand-held camera that is often pointed in the wrong direction, jumpy in its hand-held action, struggling to find focus, and the sound is frequently problematic. This impression is compelling, but in truth,  each frame is exquisitely composed and all the important dialogue is crystal clear, so most of the amateurism was faked through enormous effort during principal shooting (Production Designers Udi Nedivi and Matthew Spiegel, Art Director Doug J. Meerdink, and Cinematographer Michael Bonvillain) and post-production (Film Editing by Kevin Stitt, Sound Re-Recording Mixer Anna Behlmer and a couple of dozen other Sound Professionals, as well as a Post-Production Production Designer Richard Stirling). As Bruce Newman wrote, “The film often sacrifices niceties such as sound quality for authenticity. This may be the first big-budget Hollywood picture in history to go to so much trouble trying to look like crap.” (Not really “crap,” but you get the idea.)

 

Though there was a lot of location footage filmed in NYC, but the bulk was actually executed studios and on the streets of California. Even though everything was supposed to be recorded on one cheap video camera, top-of-the-line tech came into play. The Panasonic HVX200 was used for most interior scenes, and it’s hand-held, but not the cheap-and-easy digital that the movie implies was employed. The Sony CineAlta F23 high-definition video camera was used in nearly all of the New York exterior scenes, and though also hand-held, it’s even bulkier and more expensive. The actor playing Hud actually held a camera during shooting, and from my reading, an actually cheap one. In initial production, he personally filmed about a third of the story, and in post-production, when footage shot by others was integrated, half of what he filmed was retained. All-important here is how the multiple cameras and camera-persons were seamlessly merged into the illusion of one. Reeves said, "We wanted this to be as if someone found a Handicam, took out the tape and put it in the player to watch it. What you're watching is a home movie that then turns into something else."

 

In addition to Rob and Hud, significant party guests include Rob’s brother, Jason "Hawk" Hawkins (Mike Vogel), Hawk’s fiancé Lily Ford (Jessica Lucas), and Marlena Diamond, whom Hud has a crush on (Lizzy Caplan). Beth shows up late, probably because she and Rob are already broken-up. She rudely brings her new boyfriend. Beth and Rob argue. Beth leaves in a huff. All this happens before the disaster strikes that will devastate the entire city.

 

These characters are defined only enough to allow individuation, don’t expect more than that because after the party (where almost everyone is on their best behavior), it’s MONSTER TIME! When running for one’s life, no Actor ever needs to ask the Director what his/her motivation is.

 

After an apparent Earthquake that causes a power outage, the remaining party-goers exit to the street and witness the decapitated head of the Statue of Liberty rolled down the asphalt like a bowling ball (that’s the image borrowed from the poster for “Escape from New York”). Do they run away in terror like the people of Tokyo from “Godzilla”? Not here. They stand around and film it.

 

Escape from Manhattan is difficult, as demonstrated when the friends witness the Giant Monster destroy the Brooklyn Bridge and one of their number dies, but it’s also not impossible. But then Beth calls Rob. She’s back at her apartment, but trapped. She wants him to come rescue her because 911 is over-loaded.

 

OK, she breaks his heart, ruins his going away party, but now wants to be rescued by him? God, I think I dated this woman.

 

Given the obvious choice of escape, or traveling many miles in the wrong direction to save Beth, Rob chooses saving Beth, and his friends are loyal and stick with him.

 

WHY SAVE THAT TWO-TIMING BITCH BETH?

 

Well, Beth’s condo is on an upper-story of the Time Warner Building, then the single most expensive residential building in New York City, then the most expensive city in the entire world. She’s too young to have afforded it her own, so she obviously a trust fund kid, related to the Bushes or the Kennedys, or maybe one of those Billionaires whose current vanity projects involve privately-funded space travel. Save that chick, and even if she doesn’t marry you, you’re set for life, because her dad will make you CEO of something or other just out of gratitude.

 

In the script, Rob does it for true love (this is articulated, not by Rob, but Jason, “Forget about the world and hang on to those people you love the most."). But I don’t believe it for a second. It’s the condo, and what it represents.

 

OK, so why do his friends stick with him on the epic and stupidly dangerous trek?

 

Because they are idiots. And they all die because of it. (I apologize for the spoiler.)

 

The Monster is first unseen, then only in glimpses, and when we finally get a full-view of it, it’s only lasting for seconds. This is the opposite of the Godzilla-esthetic established by Toho Studios, instead harking back to USA-based SF films from the ‘50s when Directors of low-budget movies wisely didn’t trust FX teams that they never met (ever see “The Giant Claw” (1957)? Not a bad film until we see the Monster, then dumped in the trash-can of “Mystery Science Theater 3000” (Parody TV show first aired in 1988)). But in this case, given this is a big-budget film, the only-glimpsed-at Monster proves a marvelous design that moved with elegance and purpose.

 

Notably, there are no Military Commanders or Scientists among the main cast to explain things. Everyone of note is a twenty-something that has no idea what’s going on and we know only what they know. News reports and other official announcements are fragmentary and confused and the Monster is never explained. Still, there are things hinted at.

 

Neville Page was responsible for the Monster design, and built on ideas in the script that were not explicitly spelled out (also, he designed the Monster before the script was completely finished). His central concept was it was an immature creature suffering from "separation anxiety," like a Circus Elephants getting frightened and going on a rampage. Said Reeves, "there's nothing scarier than something huge that's spooked."

Like an Elephant, the Monster also has symbiotes. In the case of Elephants, these are lovely birds, Oxpeckers, which helpfully pick-off lice. But with this Monster, they are nasty, aggressive, crawly, Buggy-things, and when they fall off the Monsters body, they come charging after you. The film’s scariest scenes involve not the giant Monster, but these more Buggy-things looking for a new food source.

 

Without a real explanation for what it actually is or came from, I can’t avoid the suggestion it was born in the basement labs of Jones Lang LaSalle Incorporated (JLL) one the world’s three largest Real Estate Corporations.

 

Notably, it destroys not a single building owned by Donald Trump. It destroys Time Warner, but there’s a less-attractive Trump building only a block away, and it remains untouched. Trump’s collaborations with JLL are infamous (though things did sour thirteen years after this film’s release) but, as President of the USA, Trump fought hard to block Time Warner’s merger with AT&T.

 

Of significance is that one of the landmarks the Monster destroys is Grand Central Terminal. There’s a little history worth outlining here.

 

In the early 1960s most would agree that the two most beautiful buildings in NYC were Pennsylvania Station and Grand Central Terminal, both owned by the same Real Estate concerns. Because of the development of car-culture, the emergence of Levittowns, and White-Flight from our Urban areas (all evil plots by Real Estate interests), our train systems were being financially undermined. In reaction, Pennsylvania Station was demolished 1963 and replaced with a miserable, subterranean, rabbit’s warren, with the butt-ugly Madison Square Garden rising above it (in 1998, Godzilla destroyed it, good for Godzilla!), which was wholly dependent on the car-culture, but the builders didn’t take the time to create places for the Suburbanite customers to park.

 

The next target of those Draculas was Grand Central, but by then, we proud NYers were done with this nonsense. We passed Landmark Preservation Laws in 1965 & 1967 to stop the cultural carnage. Still, the Draculas would not desist, fighting this case all the way to Supreme Court Case of the United States, but the people definitively won in 1978.

 

The original Landmark Preservation Laws didn’t have serious enough punishments, but this changed when Trump demolished the famous Bonwit Teller Department store on Fifth Ave to build Trump Tower. Though it was not protected by the Landmark’s Law, Trump had publicly promising to preserve elements of the façade’s art-work. Then, suddenly, like a thief in the night, he destroyed everything, and did so without notifying the Metropolitan Museum of Art that was supposed to receive the irreplaceable cultural treasures. The public outcry led to a severe strengthening of the Landmark’s Law, still in force today. Trump still got his Tower, and this Monster didn’t destroy that, but instead moved to the other side of Manhattan Island, where the then-current Real Estate action was.

 

Grand Central isn’t on a straight-line from Brooklyn Bridge to Time Warner – BUT -- JLL has been the manager Grand Central since 1994, and isn’t allowed to destroy stuff and do as they wilt – BUT -- if there’s a giant Monster involved …

 

OK, the twenty-somethings save the undeserving Beth after walking up 48 stories and then crossing a tilting roof because one of the Time Warner Towers had crashed into the other. I gotta admit, that was pretty cool, especially because one of the female rescuers was wearing high heels.

 

I want to give all cast members credit. This film doesn’t have the depth of an Ingmar Bergman, but everyone is believable and sympathetic, even Hud, written to be annoying and mostly hidden behind the camera.

 

Actor Stahl-David, who played the more appealing Rob, spoke about the process of filming:

 

"They didn't even tell us about the cinema vérité thing," before the audition, but later appreciated the room for improvisation they were granted once the production was actually rolling, "It felt like we were on a search for truth together … It's not a very talky movie, it was more about questioning what would you do in this situation? What would I do?

"It is contemporary film vocabulary - this kind of first-hand account, something that could've been on YouTube or something. Someone just holds up the camera and starts filming, there are probably other accounts, [our footage is] just the one the government happens to find.”

Stahl-David described the challenges of reacting to what he could not see, "Shooting that stuff was not easy. Honestly, the camera work helped sell the [monster stuff] 'cause the camera's going crazy too.

"We were speculating [ourselves] and wondering what the hell were we doing. We had never seen anything like this, it was weird and that made us uncomfortable at first. Then when we started filming and working with Matt - seeing he was open to us, then seeing the teaser [produced and made public before the film was actually made], it gave us a boost from that. The style of what we were doing, seeing how the vision was being executed and how it was going to be cool and different and also the reaction we got from the public was exciting. It was the fruits of brave marketing."

 

That much Improv in a $25-million-dollar-movie? Unheard of, but effective.

 

Still, some room has to be made for legitimate complaints. First of all, the “unsteadycam” aspect of the Found Footage motif is physically difficult on some audiences, and this has been well documented since “Blair Witch Project” Basically, if a movie makes vomit, you’re not gonna enjoy it.

 

Also, many were offended about how the film reacted to/manipulated out post-9/11 fears, pointing out how other SF,F&H films tackled the same more obliquely, and ultimately more powerfully. Steven Spielberg’s “War of the Worlds” (2005) and George Romero’s “Dairy of the Dead” (2008) are the examples most cited. As “Dairy of …” was released the same year, used the same Pseudo-Documentary/Found Footage motif, and was produced for $2 million, instead of this one’s $25 million, it’s the one everyone harps on. Moreover, Romero is a veteran Horror/Satirist, while everyone attached to this film were young Turks. Romero’s cynicism regarding our relationship to the technologies of our media proved better informed and far sharper, and his characters more diverse. Wrote Stephanie Zacharek, this film, “pretends to examine how self-absorbed we are as a culture, only to be consumed by its own self-absorption.”

 

Before I move on to the franchise, I want to praise the score. Found Footage films really have little room for music, and “Cloverfield” avoids it almost completely, but the really long closing credits has the lushly orchestrated “Roar” suite (a joke title), composed by Michael Giacchino, which affectionately references 1950s SF movies with heavy, aggressive, brass.

 

There were two sequels, but neither follow the story directly, because in both the nature of the monster is far different.

 

“10 Cloverfield Land” (2016) doesn’t really reference “Godzilla” as much as H.G. Wells’ novel “War of the Worlds” (1895) and the hysteria surrounding Orson Welles’ Radio adaptation of the same (1938). I loved it. Extended the basement scene where the novel’s un-named narrator was stuck with an unhinged survivor, it first questions if the crisis is real, and after that’s established, asks how much slavery will one surrender to just to survive. Smaller scale, it achieves the intimacy the first film kept approaching, but missing.

 

I haven’t seen “The Cloverfield Paradox” (2018), which moves the action to the International Space Station. It got bad reviews. 

Trailer:

Cloverfield - Trailer [HD] - YouTube