Post-9/11 reaction/response intimately examined through the lens of a raucous creature feature

Rating: 9/10 (10 March 2016)

Matt Reeves' Cloverfield would be a significant film if it was only noteworthy for being the film that resurrected the found footage genre. With a minimalist marketing campaign of MySpace pages and trailers that emphasized the film's theatrical release date and nothing more, plus a whirlwind of positive buzz that hyped the film for much of the start of the 2008 year, Cloverfield was destined to be a history-making hit when it finally hit the scenes. However, as an encapsulation of post-9/11/"War on Terror" fear, the film is an unequivocal cultural staple of such simply by showing senseless disaster unfold and showcasing lives that we, the audience, otherwise wouldn't care about had they not been the focal point of this particular film. Few other films about this little find themselves saying so much.
The film opens with a disclaimer by the United States Department of Defense that the film contained on the camcorder herein was seized as a piece of evidence that was found at a location by the name of "Cloverfield," "formerly known as Central Park." The tape largely includes footage from a going-away party for Rob Hawkins (Michael Stahl-David), who will be traveling to Japan to become the vice president for a new company, only on occasion cutting away to a video shot after both Rob and his friend Beth (Odette Yustman) have sex, indicating the film being taped over. During his going-away party, thrown by his brother Jason (Mike Vogel) and filmed by his buddy Hudson Platt (T.J. Miller), who is traversing the entire loft to get video testimonies to congratulate his pal, not only does Rob's secret of sleeping with Beth come out, but so does a gigantic monster that begins destroying New York City in every conceivable way.
At first, a thunderous shakeup and a brief power outage suggest an abruptly violent earthquake, but when buildings begin to explode and skyscrapers start crumbling, we can see that a bigger, more unexplainable force is behind these bouts of chaos. Through short glimpses captured by Hudson's camera, we can see that a strange, gray beast of about thirty stories resembling the most deformed monster that Godzilla would fight, is practically walking all over New York City, to the point where it is killing innocent lives and making everything a horrifying mess for everyone within the vicinity. The plan for the group of friends, which also includes Lily (Jessica Lucas), Jason's girlfriend, is to evacuate New York as quickly as possible, but that changes when Rob's call to Beth reveals nothing more than a distressed, blood-curdling scream that suggests she is pinned underneath the rubble of a building. The gang winds up deviating the course instructed by the U.S. Army in order to try and rescue Beth and dodge the towering monster.
Cloverfield takes a Jaws-like approach to profiling the monster in the picture (or "monsters," as I'd like to keep open as a possibility for myself) in that it shows the creature largely in small, blink-and-you-miss-it glimpses. This has become common practice for found footage films, but Cloverfield employs the tactic with a bit of grace and buildup. Rather than acting like a metaphorical "dollar on a live fishing reel," director Matt Reeves makes sure to conjure up adequate suspense before he even thinks about showing us the monster at hand. After that, every small sip we get of the monster makes us fear that we'll eventually get a longer "gulp" of the monster that we could choke on if we're not ready.
Reeves keeps us on edge most of the film, and the chaos portrayed in this film is anything but controlled. The videography has the aesthetic grace of an unedited video in a warzone, the sound editing and mixing occasionally feels like it was sent through a blender, and the film, as a work of cinema and the respective found footage genre, is a sensory annihilation. As frustrating as this can be, this process, much like Reaves' directorial conservatism of showing us just small features of the monster and his destructive actions throughout the course of the seventy-three minute film, manages to reveal some truly beautiful and telling moments. Consider the scene when the group of partygoers, and the remainder of New York City for that matter, witness the monster throw the head of the Statue of Liberty over a mile in length before it crashes before them on a busy street. The gaggle of people stand in awe, some frozen in fear, some quick to snap a picture, and some sprinting to safety.
The location of this film and the confusing circumstances are not coincidental; Cloverfield is, in some big ways, a reference to the mass hysteria and uncertainty that the 9/11 terrorist attacks brought on the United States. Actions that we were used to hearing about occurring overseas were suddenly in our metaphorical, and some literal, backyards, and the casualties, the incalculable destruction, and the disregard for life were something we could not ignore. Cloverfield attempts to replicate that feeling right down to its marketing campaign, which tells us little and leaves us with limited expectations. What we witness, however, is something that will leave a mark on many of us, or at least remind us of a similar time in America.
Starring: Michael Stahl-David, T.J. Miller, Odette Yustman, Mike Vogel, and Jessica Lucas. Directed by: Matt Reeves.