From both a dramatic and technical standpoint, Cloverfield is a very impressive film. In fact it is one of the best cinematic representations of complete and utter chaos I have ever seen. The sense of mass hysteria and audience identification with the onscreen horrors go far beyond that found in past Big Monster movies, even very good ones like King Kong (1933, Merian C. Cooper, Ernest B. Schoedsack), Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953, Eugène Lourié), Godzilla, (Ishirô Honda, 1954), and 20,000 Million Miles to Earth (1957, Nathan Juran). After a quaint 15 or so minute opening at the home party of a group of preppy, 20-somethingers, the ‘normality’ of the occasion is disrupted by a mega-bang –a literal earthquake-like tremor that knocks out most of the city lights– after which the film does not let up. At a time when two hour plus movies are becoming the norm, it is refreshing to see a film which trims any excessive fat right down. There is no time wasting here on exposition –arguably the opening house party scene which introduces all the main characters goes on too long– explanation, character development, or resolution. What we see is a chunk (80 minutes) of roughly one night (real time, with the exception of the times when the camera is ‘turned off’). The chaos is experienced from the POV of one single camera and (mainly) a small group of friends. What is interesting is how well it the sticks to this one camera conceit and how well it pulls off the obvious (if you stop to think of it) paradox of a low tech premise (filmed with a consumer camera, by someone with little camera experience) mixed with a big action/destruction film feel.

　　Much of the talk surrounding the film is, and rightly so, about the film’s style, or more precisely, the decision to structure the film as if shot by a home movie/camcorder video. The premise –not so new now after Cannibal Holocaust and Blair Witch Project&n