You've got to hand it to J.J. Abrams. He really knows how to sell his work. He also knows how to keep his fans in the dark. The enormous success of his hit television series "Lost" is based in the show's very title; audiences often have no idea what is going on, and this is precisely what keeps them so intrigued.
So when Transformers theater-goers were subject to a mysterious movie trailer with no true plotline and no given title (simply the release date: "1/18/08"), it was no surprise when Abrams' name appeared as the producer.
If anything, Cloverfield should win some award for its incredible marketing strategy. Encouraged by Abrams, the studios used an ingenious viral marketing tactic -- that is, marketing that uses the communicative power of pre-existing social networks in order to spread the word. The initial, title-less trailer immediately got people talking. Then came the mysterious Web sites: fake MySpace pages, false company Web sites and fictional product advertisements, all filled with various clues to the movie's subject matter. These, along with the secretive nature of the film's production -- even the no-name actors were kept from the film's subject until actual filming began -- caused Internet chatters to buzz relentlessly about what the hell this movie concerned.
Once it was revealed that Cloverfield concerns a monster attack on New York City, the buzz then turned to the appearance and origin of the monster itself. Just go to Google and search Cloverfield. You'll be amazed at the extent of what you find.
And boy did this strategy work. Theaters were sold out across the country on "1/18/08." The film, which cost a mere $25 million to produce, brought in $16.75 million on its opening night.
"But," you ask, "is it good? Does it live up to the hype?" What you have to remember is that this is a monster movie. In many respects, it is a dumb film. The characters drop more "dudes" and "bros" then some can take within a 75-minute period. The plot is fairly predictable, and it relies on many action movie clichés.
But in the thrills department, Cloverfield delivers. There is no doubt that this is a movie to be seen in theaters with a large group. Audience reaction makes it all the better. The film's camcorder technique works in a successfully Blair Witch Project type fashion, incorporating the viewer into the action and giving us the victims' perspectives. The monster itself is no disappointment either, with its original and creepy design.
And on another level, Cloverfield dishes up some pretty serious social commentary. No, I'm not overanalyzing here -- just take a look at the mother of all monster films, the original Godzilla. Godzilla the monster was a product of atomic radiation, and the film served as an analogy for the Japanese community's fear of the effects of atomic warfare (it came out a mere nine years following the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki). Much in the same way, the monster of Cloverfield is a symbol for the unknowable force of terrorism -- an alien, destructive beast that seems inexplicable to its victims. (Evidence: Why, of all places, does the monster attack New York City?) The film's camcorder technique comments on our modern reception of this terror. Our memories of Sept. 11th, for example, are made up of home video clips and cell phone pictures. This is the way we react to terror in contemporary society -- by recording it -- and Cloverfield cleverly highlights that.