Cloverfield, disbelief in suicidal courage
I'm thinking about Cloverfield, the movie reviewers are calling "monster-movie meets Blair-witch" that hit theaters just . . . yesterday?, after having seen a 1PM showing earlier this afternoon.
I enjoyed it . . . I wonder, I think I might have even loved it. Thus, I've felt compelled to try and get a feel for what other people seem to think about it--this is a compulsive habit that often steals at least a few hours after viewing anything that I both enjoy immensely and where it happens one could fathom that a sizable audience would be commenting about their own opinions. I think the last time it happened was after I saw Mirrormask, something like 2 years ago.
Anyways, the consensus looks rather split, except for one detail: that the film, at it's heart, is stupid.
Then, I find myself at odds, as I thought the writing was quite effective, particularly for the immediate concept within the film. I expect most know, at least partially, that this film is about some "monster" that unexpectedly attacks New York, and that it's filmed first-person, following several "victims" of the attack instead of glorifying/exploiting the mass-annihilation generally at the core of the "monster-movie" genre.
One criticism that I've been particularly surprised about is how quite a few reviewers/Internet-folk seem convinced that the actions the main group of characters take are largely divorced from what they would expect "intelligent" characters to take. I am taken aback, as I conceived very clearly, and very early in the film, that the primary human side of the film is rooted in two immediate realities: 1) Death is almost certain, and 2) There are people I care about who are still alive (where the "I" is primarily connected to the protagonist(s)).
Therein, the fundamental drive of main-character "Rob" felt immensely believable for me in a satisfying way. That is, Rob's (admittedly juvenile) last words to supporting-role "Beth" haunt him such that, due to the largely unrealized (yet potent) connection between the two, he must find her even though the situation surrounding him is, well, grim.
The criticism I detail above seems to suggest that Rob should instead, were he a smarter character, engage in saving himself. More believably, that he would place his concerns for Beth to the side until the people he cares about that are with him (the other protagonists/supporting characters for the most part) are en route to safety.
Following "smarter decision #1," there seems to be an immense disbelief for the possibility of suicidal courage. Particularly that, even though aware of almost-certain death, the smartest decision in immensely dire situation is to focus entirely on preserving oneself, even if one has hope that someone important to his/herself could need his/her help. It is, then, not smart to be the hero. Following "smarter decision #2," . . . I would grant it is a smarter decision, except that the protagonists who follow Mr. Rob do so after he tries pushing them away. Perhaps viewers missed/failed to understand that he was prepared to quest without the help of his friends?
A sizable portion of the film is bound to be lost to a chunk of its audience due to subtlety. Much movie-going public wants pure entertainment, taking any & all thoughtful elements to detract from the experience. I am hoping it is this group that is arriving at the above conclusions--this group that wants Rob to turn back around the mid-point of the movie.
I wonder if it is a necessary casualty, then, that the features most salient to me are, perhaps, invisible to majority . . .
I'd want to save her. Even knowing this to be pragmatically impossible, I'd want to try. Then, it's a little sickening to me to realize I would be branded a moron by the morons . . . no sleep lost, but I wonder about the length of the disconnect between myself and the masses.
I enjoyed it . . . I wonder, I think I might have even loved it. Thus, I've felt compelled to try and get a feel for what other people seem to think about it--this is a compulsive habit that often steals at least a few hours after viewing anything that I both enjoy immensely and where it happens one could fathom that a sizable audience would be commenting about their own opinions. I think the last time it happened was after I saw Mirrormask, something like 2 years ago.
Anyways, the consensus looks rather split, except for one detail: that the film, at it's heart, is stupid.
Then, I find myself at odds, as I thought the writing was quite effective, particularly for the immediate concept within the film. I expect most know, at least partially, that this film is about some "monster" that unexpectedly attacks New York, and that it's filmed first-person, following several "victims" of the attack instead of glorifying/exploiting the mass-annihilation generally at the core of the "monster-movie" genre.
One criticism that I've been particularly surprised about is how quite a few reviewers/Internet-folk seem convinced that the actions the main group of characters take are largely divorced from what they would expect "intelligent" characters to take. I am taken aback, as I conceived very clearly, and very early in the film, that the primary human side of the film is rooted in two immediate realities: 1) Death is almost certain, and 2) There are people I care about who are still alive (where the "I" is primarily connected to the protagonist(s)).
Therein, the fundamental drive of main-character "Rob" felt immensely believable for me in a satisfying way. That is, Rob's (admittedly juvenile) last words to supporting-role "Beth" haunt him such that, due to the largely unrealized (yet potent) connection between the two, he must find her even though the situation surrounding him is, well, grim.
The criticism I detail above seems to suggest that Rob should instead, were he a smarter character, engage in saving himself. More believably, that he would place his concerns for Beth to the side until the people he cares about that are with him (the other protagonists/supporting characters for the most part) are en route to safety.
Following "smarter decision #1," there seems to be an immense disbelief for the possibility of suicidal courage. Particularly that, even though aware of almost-certain death, the smartest decision in immensely dire situation is to focus entirely on preserving oneself, even if one has hope that someone important to his/herself could need his/her help. It is, then, not smart to be the hero. Following "smarter decision #2," . . . I would grant it is a smarter decision, except that the protagonists who follow Mr. Rob do so after he tries pushing them away. Perhaps viewers missed/failed to understand that he was prepared to quest without the help of his friends?
A sizable portion of the film is bound to be lost to a chunk of its audience due to subtlety. Much movie-going public wants pure entertainment, taking any & all thoughtful elements to detract from the experience. I am hoping it is this group that is arriving at the above conclusions--this group that wants Rob to turn back around the mid-point of the movie.
I wonder if it is a necessary casualty, then, that the features most salient to me are, perhaps, invisible to majority . . .
I'd want to save her. Even knowing this to be pragmatically impossible, I'd want to try. Then, it's a little sickening to me to realize I would be branded a moron by the morons . . . no sleep lost, but I wonder about the length of the disconnect between myself and the masses.
posted by SJ at 1/19/2008 04:49:00 PM
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