4.5/5
When the trailer for 10 Cloverfield Lane popped up on the web not long ago, it came like a thunderous bomb dropped on an unsuspecting public. Nobody saw it coming. No script leaks, no press releases, nothing, just a sudden blink on the world’s radar, apparition-like. Now just three months later, the movie itself has arrived, and whatever else there is to say and speculate about, it is first and foremost a first-rate thriller, one that isn’t afraid to keep you in the dark and wring you dry with the anxious unknown.
Is there any reason to synopsis a movie like this, so bursting with novelty and surprise? I don’t think so. This is a movie where going in cold isn’t just urged; it’s essential. But in writing a review, I have a job to do, which is to give you an impression of the movie coupled with a bit of perspective. If you’re going to see this— and I suspect you are— don’t read the reviews. Not even this one. Stop right here, in fact. I can wait. Others, read forth.
With notable exceptions in the beginning and end, the movie is enclosed within the walls of a bunker built by Howard (John Goodman) to keep safe from what he claims is a worldwide attack. Mary Elizabeth Winstead plays Michelle, a young woman who wakes up chained to a wall after a car accident leaves her unconscious. She’s joined by a man named Emmett (John Gallagher Jr.) who entered the bunker on his own accord, although they both develop the same doubts regarding the truth of their circumstances. What makes a confined setting like this work is the actors’ ability to keep you trapped in the room with them. Nobody seems more trapped than Winstead in her scenes with John Goodman. In his other films, Goodman is the grizzly-bear embodiment of warmth and oddball endearment. Here, it almost feels wrong to see him playing a character so unhinged; no other actor could have sold him. This role makes The Big Lebowski’s Walter Sobchak look sane and utterly well-adjusted.
This isn’t the singularity of science fiction filmmaking, and why should it be? It is a film that establishes its constraints early on and revels in them, often to impressive effect. The last time I saw a movie this satisfyingly self-contained, it was called Chronicle, and while this lacks the human tissue of that story, it more than compensates with gleeful absurdity, nervous laughter, and no absence of hair-trigger suspense. Dan Trachtenberg, a first-time director, demonstrates a skill and discipline unfashionable among newcomers. Instead of flaunting a style, he pulls back at every turn, his only goal to tighten the screws as invisibly as possible. If you ever want to know how deeply I’m engaged in a movie, keep an eye on my right leg. By the time 10 Cloverfield Lane’s inevitably explosive conclusion rolled around, my leg was shaking the two chairs next to me, including the people they seated. I’d be sorry, but they were so wired to the screen they might as well have been the only people in the cinema.
A lot of you will leave this film feeling slightly misled, jerked around by a name like Cloverfield and everything it encompasses. I understand why. There will be many who expect it to be a very literal expansion of the Cloverfield universe, if indeed there is such a thing. Is there? Well, the possibility remains as open as it did before the film, perhaps wisely. I suspect “Cloverfield” is intended to be the umbrella term for a modern-day Twilight Zone, although a deeper narrative connection among Cloverfield titles isn’t difficult to picture. Some viewers will have their experience spoiled by such ambiguity. These people will judge the movie on those few explicit details it doesn’t offer rather than on the handful of joys it delivers in spades.
Addressing those few, be warned: this may not the movie you want. But why isn’t that an exciting thing? Movies like 10 Cloverfield Lane exist to shatter assumptions, not to cater to them. When all expectations are put aside, which would you rather be left with? The movie you imagined exactly, or the one that must be seen to be believed?
Spencer Moleda is a freelance writer, script supervisor, and motion picture researcher residing in Los Angeles, California. His experience ranges from reviewing movies to providing creative guidance to fledgling film projects. You can reach him at: [email protected]