Empty Bookshelf Reviews

It's been a while since we've posted... I know.


To put it simply, Cloverfield is effin' scary. I would venture as far as to say that it was the most viscerally affecting movie I've seen since Children of Men. This isn't just a monster movie; it's a movie, that, like The Mist and I Am Legend before it, plays on our greatest unthought-of fear, that something so disastrous could happen that all manner of government protection would be rendered moot. Mass chaos with no way out, and nothing to keep you alive but your own strength of will in circumstances that you'd never imagine yourself in. Cloverfield is so effective at what it sets out to do, reminding us that our modern "civilized" society is one catastrophic event away from being reduced to nothing more than bickering people who've been taken over by primitive "fight or flight" survival instincts.

The way the reviewers have talked about it, I'm sure you've all heard complaints ad nauseum about the "lack of story", the "unlikeablility" of characters, the illogical choices made by certain people, and that it didn't make sense for someone to keep recording through the whole thing. Honestly, I didn't care about any of those things at all, and it's a testament to how involving the movie is that I only once stopped to think about the fact that a camera battery wouldn't last as long it does, and only one other time to think about how long it would take them to walk in a subway tunnel the distance that they said they did. Despite the rich, hipster vibe that the characters exuded, I didn't really find them all that grating, even though it was basically as if Godzilla interrupted an episode of Felicity (with good reason; both the executive producer and the director were co-creators of that show). If they indeed go ahead with a sequel to be shot in the same style, telling a different story from the same night, I would love to see people from the opposite end of the spectrum and how they managed, how different their priorities were, and just how they would differ in their actions in general.

More often than not though, I found myself sitting in my chair, with my mouth wide open, totally enraptured by what was going on. Would I too be able to climb across a roof of a forty-story building that was leaning at a sixty degree angle from the ground, only being held up by the building next to it? Would I have gone back to save someone from a giant killer spider-crab in a pitch black subway tunnel? Why was this monster movie the first one that ever made me question the lengths I would go to survive? As intense as it was, The Mist, never made me feel this way, despite the fact that the subject material was quite similar. In my opinion, it goes to media theorist Marshall McLuhan's statement from his book "Understanding Media:Extensions of Man", that "The Medium is the Message". To put a very long and convoluted series of the oftentimes contradictory thoughts by a raving Canadian lunatic into a simplistic summary, the method by which a message is sent from one person to another is oftentimes more important to the delivery than the message itself. The best example of this is the famed Nixon-Kennedy debate where the majority of radio listeners seemed to think that Nixon had won, while the television viewers, able to see Nixon's body language, sweating, and poor make-up job, were convinced that Kennedy won. On a side note, I always wondered if the people who did that study took into account the differences in politics between the people who listened and people who watched, and if that played into their answers to the question.

How this idea of medium applies to Cloverfield is that we've been programmed with the language of film over the past one-hundred years. Even if we aren't aware of it, we've come to expect a certain syntax. We don't notice it though, until a reverse angle of a shot doesn't match, or an edit isn't smooth. The Mist lives by these rules, and the whole time it tries to invoke this question of "what happens when the world goes to hell?", while also playing it like a 1950s B-horror movie creature feature. Issues with the unfocused nature of the plot set aside, it's the fact that the movie's presented in the language of Film that makes you step back and realize how preposterous the story really is.

Ironically, it's the movie inspired by the crude and incredibly repetitive Godzilla series that has effectively transcended this medium and broken out of the box, leaving genuine lasting emotion. The same way that we've been trained to understand that movies aren't real and that we shouldn't feel anguish when Jason Vorhees, "an unstoppable killing machine", hacks someone up with a machete, we've been trained to recognize video as infallible. Which affects you more: watching an alien pop out of someone's chest killing them in a movie, or watching a video of a skateboarder falling fifty feet to a hard wooden surface and seeing his shoes explode, but then being able to walk off, relatively unharmed? We haven't yet learned to apply the same reality filters to video that we currently do to film, and this is what Cloverfield exploits.

No matter how many times you try to tell yourself this movie isn't real, the medium that the message is delivered in contradicts your thoughts and plays to your instincts. What would happen if you took this movie over to undeveloped parts of Africa (as McLuhan puts it, a place where people have not been "immunized" to this medium) or if someone years down the line saw this without the context to put it in? It's very likely that they might think it actually happened, especially if they've seen the 2001 attack footage. Critics (used literally, not film critics) of the movie have been saying that it exploits September 11th imagery, but I would argue that it successfully uses those scenes we have committed to memory to scare us in a very real way, much more than any slasher flick or monster movie has done before. Maybe it's the fact that I've been spending a large amount of time in the area that was directly affected in the movie. It's more likely that I was less able to discern the difference between the two because when the twin towers fell I was watching it on a movie screen in a film auditorium. Watching Cloverfield, it was hard not to think back to this moment and relate the two, drawing all that emotion out.

One of the most harrowing scenes in the whole thing is the destruction of the Brooklyn Bridge, which I've walked over a few times. It may very well be the most frightening destruction of a major landmark ever to be created in a movie, far scarier than anything in the modern classic Independence Day or its red-headed step-brother The Day After Tomorrow, completely because of its realism and the point of view of the person delivering the message.

Here's where the debate rages though. Should a movie be judged on how effective it is at making you feel a certain way, or on the quality of story and characters? If it uses the story and characters as well as technically impressive work to achieve this emotional effect (such as in I Am Legend), then it's obvious that it's a good movie. What happens though, when the two aren't mutually exclusive, when character development and a tight story take second chair to exceptional method and incredibly well-realized scenes? Is it still a good movie? This isn't to say that Cloverfield offered no cohesive story or successful characterizations (the realism in the actors' portrayals " not so much film acting, but moreso being in the situation with a natural intensity that you would expect of someone living out this unthinkable scenario""certainly drives the moments and carries the film as much as the technique), but it's a chase movie in the most basic sense. Something's attacking, nobody knows what it is, but we're running from it. There's really nothing more to it than that, and I would be hard-pressed to say the movie had an effective story to tell, instead opting to give you a few character dynamics and letting them provide the motivation for an hour's worth of recorded events. I've heard completely mixed reviews from friends and film critics in regards to this movie, and it seems as though this question of how to judge is where the basic disagreement lies. For me, the movie was incredibly effective at what it set out to do, and was plenty enjoyable from start to finish (and I loved the epic "Cloverfield Theme" that scored the credits) and that's all I can ask for in a threatrical experience.

One last thing. If in my diatribe about the presentation of the movie I left out the success of The Blair Witch Project, which this movie couldn't have come about without, it was because that was not a successful movie. Where the difference between the two films lies is that while The Blair Witch created a very real found-footage aura, it was overly-long and for the most part, boring and whiny. Think about it. The bulk of the movie was about kids wandering around the woods and arguing with each other. It took on the found-footage medium and while it succeeded at creating a realistic portrayal of what one might look like (as in "normal people are generally boring and spend a lot of time fighting and talking about nothing at all"), it completely failed as entertainment for all but about 15 minutes. It had a few interesting story elements, but needed to pad out its runtime with lame characterizations and nothing really happening. It was also completely visually uninteresting, giving you nothing to fall back on when you got tired of all the complaining going on onscreen. Cloverfield takes a look at the mistakes of this film and basically imports action movie beats into the style in order to fix its problems, never stopping to let us take a breath or think about all the implausibilities. The people behind this movie have brilliantly created a hybrid "found-footage/blockbuster action movie" medium, and by doing this, it skews our perception of its events, leaving our common sense to duke it out with our basic media instincts, and that is why it truly succeeds.



Cloverfield is not only a genre-redefining movie, but a medium redefining movie that uses the language of video and film together to confuse our perception of events. You know it isn't real, but once it wraps you up in its swift pace, that notion leaves your mind, making the horror of the scenario all the more genuine. The entire group of people involved were committed to making you believe that this had really happened, and they succeeded admirably at doing it. Now next time, give us some better characters and a more plausible story arc for them.

While I'm at it....

The Mist

I really wanted to love it, but it completely tears itself in two directions, trying to be a giant killer insect horror movie, and a bold statement on how far our civility falls when we're presented with dire circumstances. Not only that but characters are either underused (Andre Braugher) or completely over-the-top crazy (Marcia Gay Harden), and though Tom Jane gives a strong performance (before he brings it on a little too strong at the end) he can't keep down all my hatred for the main antagonist, the crazy religious nut-job who wants everyone to repent or die. If it's supposed to be allegory, it takes a very ham-fisted approach that really turned me off. Subtlety isn't this movie's strong point. Visually, it's spectacular, but unfortunately a great premise is undermined by story issues, probably stemming from the source material. Much like most of the movie, the end sort of rips off of "Night of the Living Dead" in its painful irony, though it may have one of the best "downer" endings I've seen in a long time.

I Am Legend

Visually, the most realistically drastic transformation of any actual location that I've ever seen put to film, I Am Legend decides to "show" us, and not "tell" us about the collapse of humanity, unlike The Mist . By that I mean that while the previous movie spends its time preaching to you about how everyone will turn on one another to survive, this movie shows the result of that, in a devastatingly real fashion. You are left to create your own account of how it all went down, only giving us brief glimpses into society's fall in flashbacks that serve more to develop Will Smith's character's personal story. It was completely refreshing to see a movie that doesn't give you every detail and leaves some things open to the imagination. Will Smith's character and portrayal are perfectly subtle in the ways that his past, his loneliness, and his obsession with curing the sick have taken its toll on his sanity, but the critics are correct that unfortunately all of this strong set-up seems to devolve with about twenty-five minutes left into some more action-oriented, less suspenseful version of Signs, right down to the "oh, it all makes sense now, God has a plan for me" revelation. I Am Legend is a completely haunting vision of what life would be like if you were the last person on earth, Zombie storylines aside.

This might be my last traditional review of the year, considering we're nearing the end of 2006. In this last month of the year, everybody likes to see best and worst of the year lists, so be prepared to be bombarded with those for the next few weeks, culminating with my Top 10 Lists of the Year. Ooooh meta-humor.






Imagine, if you will, if Jurassic Park were a TV show. Wouldn't that be exciting? Dinosaurs running around, tearing up each other and people, and all kinds of exciting action week after week. You could have park rangers dealing with all of the problems of running a park for dinosaurs, getting eaten while trying to feed them. I can't really think of any good storylines, but this is dinosaurs and people in the same environment! This is like the holy grail of excitement... unless you count the Flintstones, and that horrible movie "Carnosaur"... god that was bad

So when I heard about this show, Prehistoric Park, that's on Animal Planet (originally, it was made for British television, but I would bet that they had a deal with American TV before it was made for funding purposes), I just had to check it out. I was completely let down. There I am with my bowl of popcorn and my dino-pajamas, waiting to see an action-packed hour of dino-tainment, and I'm bored to tears. Why?

Well, "Prehistoric Park" is a documentary about an animal preserve where the curator goes back in time through some sort of timecube or stargate:atlantis or something and brings the dinosaurs back to his park, where he doesn't do anything except keep them in pens and watch their health. That's not entirely true. The last episode had a large "plot" involving saber-toothed tiger husbandry. You heard me. As a documentary on this completely real place, and the fact that it's been made for educational purposes, obviously the main point is to tell us all about the behavior of these dinosaurs and how to medically and behaviorally care for them. And that's about as exciting, as say, a documentary on real tiger husbandry, and who would really care about that?

I've boiled the conceptual problems down to three areas: First of all, since this park is entirely real (it is a documentary after all) are we to believe that these people have never seen or heard of Jurassic Park? You would think that if you were planning a dinosaur island theme park, Jurassic Park would probably be the first place you would look to do research. And you would realize that no matter how safely you think your T-Rex is kept, it's not. Rule number 1 about having an island dinosaur preserve" No T-Rexes. Even if you have your giant electrical fences or in the case of Prehistoric Park, just giant wooden fences,he T-Rex is gonna get out. If we learned one thing from "The Lost World", it's that San Diego is not prepared for a T-Rex attack. (granted, that was pre-9/11, but I seriously doubt that the D.H.S. has a plan for dinosaur attacks). I understand that it's very unlikely and that The Lost World was a movie, but this is a documentary, so you'd think these Palienticians would be more responsible. They're just as bad as Cartographers

Secondly, haven't they ever seen a time-travel movie? In fact there was one that came out about a year or so ago called "A Sound of Thunder" that dealt specifically to going back to the time of dinosaurs and hunting them. When the wrong ones ended up shot, the future (present) was entirely changed. Who knows, they could be abducting the dinosaur that brought their great-great-great etc grandparents together creating a time paradox that could rip apart the space-time continuum. Even if that didn't happen, think of the change to the animal food chain, what with humans being knocked down a notch... granted, there are a few too many Canadians for my taste. But still, that doesn't sound like something I want happening on my watch. You people are supposed to be responsible scientists; get your act together.

For my third point, I have a confession to make. While this show is presented as a documentary, I've recently been informed that it really isn't and that it's just presented that way to tell you boring information about dinosaur life that you never had any desire to know. This doesn't make any sense to me. Nobody was ever around when dinosaurs lived. How do we know that there weren't McDino-lds walk-throughs, or that specific plants made certain dinos sick. The only evidence we have is bones, and some eggs. Everything in this show is presented so seriously that we automatically take every single word for fact. It's like if the croc hunter went after velociraptors instead of stingrays". well the result would still be the same either way. Anyway, they could really tell us anything about dinosaurs (say they all wore blue hats, drank horse urine, and were the largest exporter of human pubis in the world) and we'd believe them.


I always liked learning about dinosaurs because there were so many different kinds, all with their own special features and fighting styles. I wanted to see them fight each other and stuff like all kids do. This show totally de-mystifies the whole dinosaur idea, basically showing us the medical side of running a dinosaur theme park, and unless you're one of the few people who are interested in paleo-veteranary-zoology you'll be as completely bored as I was.


The concept of "Prehistoric Park" gets one star due to having a good idea to start off with and completely wasting it. This show is like watching people oil and polish Transformers instead of letting them do what they do best: shoot laser beams.

A few days ago I read that Turner is going back through their catalogue of old Hanna Barbara cartoons to remove all intimations of smoking. First of all, I'm not really sure how they're going to do this. I undestand that if they can take the cops' guns away in ET and replace them with walkie talkies, they can pretty much do anything, and with 5 color animations they can do it easier I'd assume. But the question isn't the technical ability. The question is the context of the situations and how they're going to make them make sense to people. Granted there is a valid point with making sure that kids aren't starting to smoke because they see Quickdraw McGraw or Snagglepuss doing it. After all, I'm sure the only reason that kids buy Fruity Pebbles is because Fred Flintstone does, right? But should the works of the past be censored because of semi-questionable content? Disney will NEVER let Song of the South see the light of day because of some supposed racial issues with the movie. But how are we supposed to remember what things were like when these cartoons were made, unless we're able to see them. Being a gatekeeper is one thing, but erasing history is another. And who are all these kids who are watching Hanna Barbara cartoons anyway? It's not like you can even watch these cartoons unless you have the Boomerang channel which may not even exist anymore. Kids today are more interested in watching fake anime and Pokeymans than anything else. Where are the robots that change into things? Or the magical cats from far off planets? I'm getting away from my point.

Today they discovered that Pluto isn't a planet. Once and for all. The thing is, these are planetarians saying this. I would expect these sort of mistakes from a cartographer (the study of uncharted lands), but these people are studying something more important, the whole solar system. What are we all supposed to do? Go back to the science books that we had during that brief period when Pluto wasn't a planet last time? Actually, knowing my school district, they probably still use those books. Next thing you know, we're going to be told we never had to wear those stupid glasses to look at an eclipse... like these "cool kids". Seriously, I could understand the decision if it really meant something. But what's the point of this change, except to make trouble for anyone who's ever learned that Pluto is a planet. Whoever was pushing for this is on notice!



People should really worry about changing things that matter to the masses, or will cause trouble if they're not changed. In the case of the cartoons, censoring for kids is one thing, but not allowing people to ever see these cartoons the way they were originally made is a disservice to the people who made them in the first place. Kids should listen to their parents and not cartoons anyway.