MLK Weekend Fun: Cloverfield
Wow. It’s been 3 hours now and I have finally re-oriented myself to the point where I feel normal again.
Cloverfield is an in-your-face, whirling, swirling, dizzying attack on your senses. My daughter left the theatre twice just to keep from puking, and finished out the longest 84 minutes in cinematic history watching from behind the fur on the hood of her coat. I caught myself hugging myself tightly trying to protect myself from ‘whatever-it-is-it’s-winning’.
The beginning gives you practice in mastering the art of watching a movie by camcorder. The party is rolling along, and then–BAM. From that moment on, nothing is ever going to be the same. Was the monster what I expected? Well, kind of. It was big and scary and loud. And when it was in your face, it was IN YOUR FACE! Hud was by far my favorite character, providing the flick with some much needed levity with quotes like, “I have to document this. This is important. People are going to watch this,” while the monster stomped around Midtown.
I dropped the F-bomb quite a few times, and by the end, I was ready. Ready to start breathing again, ready to stop clenching my teeth, ready to walk out of the dark to a place where the monster wasn’t. Not even Space Mountain gives you a ride like Cloverfield.
