A sequel to found-footage masterwork Cloverfield has existed beneath the curtain of rumors and speculation for years now. These murmurs have finally come to fruition, albeit in a form not many could have expected. 10 Cloverfield Lane is the definition of a purely spiritual successor, linked to the original film only in title and mild thematic similarities. It’s actually best to view this film by its own merits as a standalone work, by which it is a well-paced yet ultimately disappointing psychological thriller.
Michelle (Mary Elizabeth-Winstead), a fierce and highly capable young woman, decides to flee her healthy relationship with her fiancé after an offscreen fight. After a traumatic automobile accident, she wakes up chained to a bed in an underground bunker owned by short-tempered recluse Howard (John Goodman). Both Howard and fellow bunker-mate Emmett (John Gallagher Jr.) tell her the same harsh truth: the world has become contaminated by an airborne threat of unknown origin, and it will not be safe to venture outdoors for the foreseeable future. Michelle eventually grows comfortable with her claustrophobic conditions as this outside threat gains credence, but she soon senses danger from indoors as well when Howard’s stories begin to unravel.
There are early moments, before the film settles into its grooves, where the tightly wound tension and Michelle’s primal fears would not feel out of place in a horror flick. At first, she is unsure of where she is or what her intimidating captor intends for her, and the camerawork reflects this duress in a series of close-ups and some dread-inducing slow pans. These flourishes gradually fade away as generous dollops of exposition lighten the stress load of the proceedings. That initial suspense never truly goes away, although it is still refreshing when occasional segments return to these horror movie tools.
This is a film that caters heavily to genre fanatics, with many elements of the film feeling gloriously hamfisted in a style reminiscent of an eighties sci-fi adventure. This might sound harsh, but I don’t necessarily mean this to be a detraction. There is a simplicity in this style of filmmaking that invokes comfort and pure, unadulterated fun. This notion is probably best sampled by the batch of characters, each clearly modeled after classic and well-worn archetypes. Our heroine is headstrong and quick-witted, at times performing feats of incredible skill or blind luck that match other, more blatantly fictitious events in terms of overall absurdity. John Goodman stands out for tempering the madman persona he has perfected over his long career. His reclusive doomsayer is a subtle type of crazy, simmering in perpetual discomfort before lashing out in fits of anger. Some believability is lost through bursts of stilted dialogue, although some samples of this almost seem appropriate given the film’s science-fiction trappings.
As can be expected at this point from a J.J. Abrams production, the primary draw of this film comes from the aura of mystery surrounding certain specifics of the plot. From the tantalizing trickles of information in each Star Wars trailer to the casting secrecy of his Star Trek sequel, the man has made an intriguing art form out of highly selective marketing campaigns. The previews for 10 Cloverfield Lane did an exceptional job at setting up the central dynamic between the trio of characters while prompting the notion that there might just be more to this tale than meets the eye.
The film inevitably reaches the point where, without diving into serious spoiler territory, the audience realizes that there really are monsters hiding in the closet. A batch of late-game reveals and an explosive climax are undoubtedly expected, but are also the most regrettable aspect of the film. Answers that maybe should have remained buried—or at least gone without explicit visual evidence—land with a resounding thud and linger with all the power of a tired whimper. While I don’t believe that a mediocre conclusion should dictate the content that came before, I exited the theatre more confounded than elated, pondering the inconsistency of what I had just witnessed.
10 Cloverfield Lane appears to be unsure of what it wants to be. It excels as a psychological thriller, with a claustrophobic setting handcrafted for tense scenarios born from its naturally bottled anxiety. But then it chooses to throw these merits down the garbage with a climax that betrays the essence of its first two acts in the name of predictable action. The final result is never less than enjoyable, but perhaps it should have stuck to its strengths.
Cover image: Brian Donovan, Creative Commons Licensing
1 Comment
Agreed, my brotha. The end was poo.