Running on Empty

WTJ asks my opinion of Cloverfield. I find Cloverfield guilty on two hardcore counts: It borrows too much and has nothing to say.

First, the film's gimmick is meaningless. No one’s believing the film was recovered from the area “formerly known as Central Park.” Blair Witch played the reality card right; Cloverfield uses it as an excuse for its super-shaky style.


Second, the film uses 9/11 imagery as an action piece. The protagonists flee a dust storm from a collapsed building. Real-time news coverage is used to glimpse the beast. A phone call to mom is product placement. And the message when the head of the Statue of Liberty lands on Spring St.? Nothing more than the monster took the statue for an adversary.

MORE BORROWING: An attempt to pass through a firefight recalls Children of Men. The portent of rats fleeing a tunnel is lifted from 28 Days Later. When the camera’s night vision reveals a creature, it’s a scare from The Descent.

The young ensemble is as bad as you might expect, although Lizzy Caplan is pretty good. The problem is I didn’t feel for one character. Lizzy’s subway heroics feel manufactured and when she bursts like a balloon it’s nothing more than a shock. The goofy cameraman is unfunny and when he gets it you’ll only remember the Clovezilla close-up. A single shot in this film resonates: a driverless horse carriage meandering its way down Broadway.

FORGET THE FOG OF WAR. The hero is the military. With no delay, helicopters lead an orderly exodus across the Brooklyn Bridge, tanks and APCs are on the island and an underground triage includes specimen-studying scientists and hazmat-suited soldiers ready to quarantine bite victims. When bureaucracy prevents the group from rescuing a girlfriend a soldier points the way and reveals the playbook: in four hours NYC gets nuked. When they get the girl, the military even attempts to airlift these losers out of battle. I would have left them there.