So, Super-Dependable Teen and I took in Cloverfield yesterday. And I want desperately to blog about it, but not to spoil it for anyone else, so I'm going to blog it, and I'm going to make sure there is nothing I'd consider a 'spoiler' when I'm done. So, here goes...
First off, as you'd know form the previews, teasers, and trailers, it's a monster movie. Secondly, and as noted firstly, it's shot 'Blair Witch' style, IE, 'real' people film the movie 'accidentally' on their minicam. A disclaimer: I've never seen Blair Witch. The concept held, and continues to hold, absolutely no interest for me whatsoever. I don't believe in ghosts, even less in witches, and could care less about a movie about a ghost of a witch that was filmed for less than $30k. Bunnyman's alluded movie about baloney vampires shot in a laundry hamper by 8-year-olds sounds positively enthralling beside it. So, other than knowing from the trailers that it was shot in similar fashion, there are no other comparisons to it that I can or would want to make.
Let me just say up front that yes, there are several plot holes, of such depth and breadth that Super-Dependable Teen and I saw fit to point them out and comment on them to each other, and that they served well to let me once again confidently say that Hollywood still knows shit-all about science-fiction as a genre, and this depresses me to no end.
But in spite of those problems, I think the movie was well-done for a monster movie, extremely well-done for a BW-style cinematography, and definitely worthy of seeing in theatre. It has good special effects that will suffer badly on the small screen, so see it as large as you can.
We both found ourselves wincing and urging the lead characters to safety as peril after peril imperiled them time and again. To me that means they kept the action moving almost fast enough to gloss over the plot holes, but the tires still dipped, and the lurch when they hit the far rim of the hole remianed a jarring impact each time. I shall now decide whether or not said holes constitute spoilers if discussed... ... ...
Plot Holes One and Two (not in order with other plot holes):
OK, in vaguest possible terms: one of the characters is impaled through the chest (and from the angle, almost certainly through the upper lobe of their left lung) on a piece of exposed re-rod* (eh, industry term, it's the metal bars they put inside concrete to strengthen it, a reinforcement rod, aka re-rod). Said character is 'rescued' by lifting them off the re-rod (which would of course cause all sorts of internal damage, unplug the hole from original impact, and kill them rapidly) and not only is no worse for wear from the ordeal, but is in fact seen sprinting away from danger in the next scene. I uneasily muttered 'adrenalin?', and tried hard not to think about it any more, but... arrrgh, I hate Hollywood. Do some sci-fi right you bastards!!
* Editor's Note: I am assured by Superwife and Bunnyman that re-rod is in fact known as no such thing, and is actually called rebar. Shrug. I've heard it called re-rod, but also heard rebar. Maybe both are valid, maybe not. So, anyway, impaled by rebar, running around fine a minute later.
Plot Hole Three:
I don't know what brand of camera was being used, but I want one. They're absolutely indestructible. And have a battery that never fails, even when you run the light. And the tapes run a good 90 minutes or more. Yeah, I'll take two in fact, don't even wrap 'em. I can't tell you what sorts of things this camera went through unscathed, but believe me, short of its own stasis field, I can't see how it remained functional.
Plot Holes Four and Five:
This one is dangerously close to a spoiler. Be warned. I'm going to change the color to match the background, so select this area to read it, just in case. This way, if it is a spoiler, it's your own fault for reading it.
One of the characters is bitten/slashed/gouged savagely by a lesser monster. This character does not go into shock, despite some impressive blood loss. The lesser monster and its buddies, whom the army has been hard-pressed to deal with with M-16 A1s and M-60s, are rather handily beaten off and back and away by four humans usings fists, feet, and a steel pipe.
Ok, that's about all. So, as usual, badly flawed, but, if you can shut down your higher analytical functions for 90 minutes, an altogether creepy romp.
Oh, and when you think the story is over, and you're just watching what didn't get taped over by the interesting parts, keep watching anyway. Especially the right side of the screen, far off in the background.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Saturday, January 12, 2008
On the Road Again
Hopefully, this is the last time for a long time.
Once again, two guys with a truck showed up at my place, loaded almost all of my heavy-ass shit (scratch that, they loaded ALL of my heavy-ass shit, all I did was some of the lighter stuff) into said truck, and carted it to my new address. 2.2 miles away. Their bosses charged me $300 for the service (which is deductible), and I tipped those gentlemen $20 each, and gave one of them my old entertainment center, as the laws of physics decreed that it could not, save by exertions of the Uncertainty Principle, be made to occupy my new home. A trip to Walmart yielded the last one in the store, which waits in my trunk for me to summon the strength to hoist it out and into my apartment. I even got a bargain on it, maybe.
Did I mention that I moved from one third-floor apartment to another third-floor apartment? And after swearing I'd never do it again. Eh, shows what my word is worth. Bunnyman and Superwife, and the older two Superkids have been helpful also. In fact it was Superwife who recommended my movers, and they showed up on time, did the job on schedule, and basically rocked in hearts and spades. Thanks again, Superwife.
Later--
Ok, was beaten savagely away from the Castle Anthrax mainframe in the middle of typing this by Bunnyman, but he's on the Wii now, so I'm safe.
We just got back from the Come Back Inn, an Italian eatery with a decidedly unexpected name. The Pasta Gorgonzola was, dare I say it (Oh dare, dare!!), magnifico. I'd never had it before, and wasn't sure what to expect, beyond gorgonzola likely being a 'strong cheese, given a name like that'. Fortuitously, I likes the strong cheese. Basically, it's Chicken Alfredo, but Alfredo met the gaze of Medusa, and turned to stone. And that's likely because there were no broccoli bushes for poor Al to hide behind. And that's good eatin'! Bunnyman had a roast beast sammich on ciabatta bread, which he requested special, and which turned out, apparently, to be a mistake, because he thought the ciabatta sucked. Superwife got a more traditional dish, meatballs and marinara, and it smelled divine, and I already knew the marinara was good from the breadsticks we had earlier. So we got that going for us, which is nice.
Anyhow, I got one (count them) trip left up my new stairs tonight, and I'm making it count. Several strapped satchels shall be strapped to my strapping form, and bootstrapped up the stairs so I can strap myself into the intrawebs at some point tomorrow.
But I ain't looking forward to that trip.
Once again, two guys with a truck showed up at my place, loaded almost all of my heavy-ass shit (scratch that, they loaded ALL of my heavy-ass shit, all I did was some of the lighter stuff) into said truck, and carted it to my new address. 2.2 miles away. Their bosses charged me $300 for the service (which is deductible), and I tipped those gentlemen $20 each, and gave one of them my old entertainment center, as the laws of physics decreed that it could not, save by exertions of the Uncertainty Principle, be made to occupy my new home. A trip to Walmart yielded the last one in the store, which waits in my trunk for me to summon the strength to hoist it out and into my apartment. I even got a bargain on it, maybe.
Did I mention that I moved from one third-floor apartment to another third-floor apartment? And after swearing I'd never do it again. Eh, shows what my word is worth. Bunnyman and Superwife, and the older two Superkids have been helpful also. In fact it was Superwife who recommended my movers, and they showed up on time, did the job on schedule, and basically rocked in hearts and spades. Thanks again, Superwife.
Later--
Ok, was beaten savagely away from the Castle Anthrax mainframe in the middle of typing this by Bunnyman, but he's on the Wii now, so I'm safe.
We just got back from the Come Back Inn, an Italian eatery with a decidedly unexpected name. The Pasta Gorgonzola was, dare I say it (Oh dare, dare!!), magnifico. I'd never had it before, and wasn't sure what to expect, beyond gorgonzola likely being a 'strong cheese, given a name like that'. Fortuitously, I likes the strong cheese. Basically, it's Chicken Alfredo, but Alfredo met the gaze of Medusa, and turned to stone. And that's likely because there were no broccoli bushes for poor Al to hide behind. And that's good eatin'! Bunnyman had a roast beast sammich on ciabatta bread, which he requested special, and which turned out, apparently, to be a mistake, because he thought the ciabatta sucked. Superwife got a more traditional dish, meatballs and marinara, and it smelled divine, and I already knew the marinara was good from the breadsticks we had earlier. So we got that going for us, which is nice.
Anyhow, I got one (count them) trip left up my new stairs tonight, and I'm making it count. Several strapped satchels shall be strapped to my strapping form, and bootstrapped up the stairs so I can strap myself into the intrawebs at some point tomorrow.
But I ain't looking forward to that trip.
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