I rarely see a movie on its opening weekend.
The theaters are always crowded, usually with inconsiderate apes who think nothing of carrying on movie-length conversations with the folks next to them, their friends at the other end of their cell phones, or the characters on the movie screen. And since going to a movie means arranging a babysitter, it’s something that needs to be planned in advance, and should not be spent with inconsiderate apes.
But for Cloverfield, I made an exception.
I’ve been avoiding discussion and possible spoilers. But I (rightly) figured that once the movie hit, it would be impossible to remain both plugged into pop culture and blissfully ignorant of the details of the movie. So I convinced my wife to brave the potential apes, we called the sitter a week ahead of time, and went out on Sunday to experience Cloverfield.
I liked it. I’ll spare you the full review (I promised not to do those here), but if you like the premise (camcorder-eye view of monster destroying NYC), you’ll like the movie too. I’d promise not to spoil anything, but really, there’s not much to spoil. If you’ve seen the trailer, you know pretty much exactly what the movie has in store. And if you like the trailer, you’ll love the movie.
And while I am prone to car-sickness, I was unphased by the unsteady camera work. If I’d been sitting in the passenger seat while watching, it probably would have turned ugly.
