by Steve Paine
January 22, 2008

Let’s get a couple things straight. Cloverfield is not the next Godzilla movie. It’s also not a spin-off of producer J.J. Abrams’s hit TV show, Lost. And, sorry, H.P. Lovecraft fans, but it has nothing to do with Cthulhu, either. What Cloverfield is, though, is the first great modern American monster movie, and that’s not just because the monster is one of the most terrifying and believable to ever hit the screen.

Of course, that’s the reason most people are going to see this film, and they won’t be disappointed. Cloverfield delivers on what it promised in the mysterious teaser trailer that aired before  last summer: a monster movie about six hip, young New Yorkers who throw their friend a going-away party the night a colossal creature attacks the city.

Obsessive Internet fans have been theorizing on the monster’s identity for months. Unfortunately for them, they’re all wrong. Abrams has designed a beast unparalleled in both size and horror, and, while he succeeds in capturing our attention, the film is little more than just spectacle. I use the word “spectacle” in the most praising way possible, but perhaps it speaks to our American identity that the origin of the beast and the characters’ backgrounds aren’t really important to us. It’s not the “why” that matters but the “how,” as in “How much of Manhattan is destroyed?” and “How many people die?”

And there is a lot of dying. In fact, the characters seem to be particularly good at it, and, for the actors, it might be the most convincing part of their performances. While most of the performers are relative unknowns (the most recognizable being Lizzy Caplan, aka Janis from Mean Girls), the characters themselves will seem familiar to frequent moviegoers. Their personalities are undeniably one-dimensional, comprising obvious stereotypes and stock character traits: the unrequited lover, the slacker/joker, the damsel in distress, etc.  Director Matt Reeves fails to conjure up enough empathy for his trendy, 20-something Everymen-and-women, so much so that many viewers will be rooting for the characters’ demise when they inevitably meet it.

What sets Cloverfield apart from other monster movies, though, is the point of view from which the story is told. Most films in the genre choose to focus on creating an epic scope, encompassing a wide range of perspectives on the attack and devastation, but Cloverfield chooses to concentrate on the stories of those civilians on the ground fleeing the carnage. The film puts the camera in the hands—literally—of funnyman partygoer “Hud” (T.J. Miller) as he attempts to document the celebration and then the mayhem of the end of the world as he knows it. The handheld camerawork will draw immediate association with films like The Blair Witch Project, but, aside from being somewhat nauseating to sensitive moviegoers, its ultimate purpose is to draw  audiences into the experience.

From there, Cloverfield progresses into typical monster movie fare, which includes scenes of the heroes running from the monster, followed by running from smaller monsters, topped off with more running. While it may sound repetitive, Abrams and company keep it fresh and exciting all the way through, mainly with the cinematography, and the movie never seems boring or tedious. Audiences will feel like they’re right alongside the characters, laughing at Hud’s inappropriate wisecracks from behind the camera and wishing, at times, that other characters would just shut up and start running again.

In the end, Cloverfield succeeds in what it set out to do, which is presenting a realistic monster movie for American audiences. While it suffers from sub-par character development (it’s hard to care about spoiled rich kids, even when they are trying to save the loves of their lives), the movie is a ride—albeit a bumpy one—from beginning to end. Detractors will undoubtedly liken the film’s images of crumbling buildings and survivors staggering from clouds of dust and debris with Sept. 11, but if this is how we come to understand the meaning of true devastation, so be it. If nothing else, at least it will give Rudy Giuliani something to talk about in his next speech.