The nightmarish, hyperbolic imagery of Revelation and allusions derived from the book itself have become commonplace motifs in the media of contemporary culture. From the popular video game Doom, which pits humans against demons in a climactic Mars-based battle, to the aesthetic of designer Gareth Pugh, whose Fall 2009 menswear collection put a not-so-subtle emphasis on combat boots, barbed wire halos, spiked studs, and leather butcher gloves (all black, obviously), the implications of new world order and imminent apocalypse are more prevalent than ever. Despite countless ties to our society today, the end of the world is typically a subject in popular culture that is glossed over, especially once the concept is filtered through the machinations of Hollywood.
Cloverfield, the 2008 monster movie directed by Matt Reeves, is a film that breaks the mold in its own Revelation myth and in its disregard to Hollywood conventions. In many ways, it seems to be the perfect amalgamation of apocalypse myths for the new century – the references to other works of fiction and real events within the film are too numerous to list, but the film is an obvious homage to Japanese kaiju, or monster movies. The film has also been examined as an oblique allusion to 9/11, an attribute that is not entirely unfounded. In scenes during the monster’s rampage through Lower Manhattan, victims emerge dazed and covered in ash from smoky streets as the beast leaves a wake of destruction in its path. The first person camerawork lends itself to a vicarious, almost voyeuristic position for the viewer – in many ways, it’s a film for the YouTube generation, and perhaps might even be more effective when viewed from a portable device, like a laptop or smartphone. Cloverfield relishes in its references and, despite its apparent trappings that qualify it squarely as popcorn entertainment, treats the topic smartly.
The film follows a group of painfully stylish/attractive twentysomethings as they throw a farewell party for their friend who has accepted a job offer in Japan. Cloverfield was billed as the next Blair Witch thanks to its first-person cinematography style, although the two films have little contextually in common aside from the filming technique. The first scene shows the group preparing for the party, and follows them over the course of a night throughout Manhattan as all hell breaks loose. Perhaps the most unbelievable part of the film – taking into account its heavy science fiction influence – is that the character Hud is presumed to be filming during the length of the film, as the events happen, even through a nasty encounter with group of rabid, dog-sized alien fleas in a subway tunnel.
Despite the films disconnect in its own cinéma vérité-influenced aesthetic and its less realistic story material, it comes across on some level as a projection of the times. Its relevance to Revelation is less apparent, but notable nonetheless. Little reference is paid to religion or spirituality in the film, a feature that speaks more towards Hollywood’s tendency to scrub its products of all real-world identities than to the films content itself. It is, without a doubt, heavily inspired by Revelation, like many its peers in the genre of apocalyptic fiction. The creature itself could very well be from the infamous book itself thanks to its appropriately hellish appearance – it appears in blips onscreen as a spindly, four legged gigantic amphibian with mandibles, and it’s not happy. Manhattan becomes the battleground of an earth-shattering conflict, but the genius of Cloverfield is in its narrow perspective. By giving audiences the experience of a single person in a large-scale disaster, the film manages to transcend the ridiculous CGI overload of films like 2012. It’s a brash, loud, sensory film that cares little for characters or perplexing subject matter – and as such, parallels the simplistic fiction of Revelation. What’s the point of imagining the end of the world if you can’t sit back and enjoy the spectacle?
The most memorable images in the film aren’t the ones featured in the infamously secretive marketing campaign that led up to its release, however. In one scene, a main character runs into an electronics store to charge his cell phone (an entire paper could be written on the use of cell phones in the film, as it is one of very few recent movies to actually recognize that such technology exists in daily life) as others carry out flat-screen plasma televisions and laptop computers. In Cloverfield, the most powerful spectacle may not be the scene involving the Statue of Liberty’s head careening down a city block, smashing SUV’s and people along the way. The film’s powerful effects are more residual and lingering. In another scene, the characters stumble upon a makeshift medical camp in a brightly lit department store. Manhattan has become a warzone – its residents, refugees. The Freudian implications of watching the city streets you live in spiral into a chaotic, alien-infested hell are infinite but ultimately quite amusing. Why is it that Cloverfield is so successful in its diversion from “typical” blockbusters that address the apocalypse? The answer has everything to do with the approach it takes visually. After all, what’s more American than home movies, Hollywood, and hellish destruction? Try all three, conveniently and concisely packaged in 84 minutes.
I really enjoyed reading this, as I was not very fond of Cloverfield and was refreshed, as it were, by seeing a new analysis. It was rather interesting to see the connections between Revelation and the movie; of particular interest to me was the connection you made with regard to simplicity. Perhaps that is where both Revelation and the movie gain their power to scare large proportions of the population.
This is an excellent review of the film in which you ably demonstrate that Cloverfield is a “projection of the times” that is shaped by an apocalyptic mindset. While the references to Revelation are not blatant–as the ones in Knowing are, from what I gather—the sense of human desperation and destruction at the hands of the beast are recognizable apocalyptic elements in the Hollywood version of doomsday. But, as you point out, the departures are what make it interesting. In this regard, the question you pose at the end is a valuable one to keep in mind as we continue through the course: “Why is it that Cloverfield is so successful in its diversion from “typical” blockbusters that address the apocalypse? The answer has everything to do with the approach it takes visually. After all, what’s more American than home movies, Hollywood, and hellish destruction?” I agree with you about the value of the diversion, especially after the seemingly endless number of Hollywood blockbuster films that follow the more standard line of doomsday with salvation at the end. Increasingly we see films being made by Hollywood, for TV (as with Andreas’ example) and as independents, without a salvation motif. That is a theme to continue to think about in light of contemporary U.S. life.
I have not yet seen this movie, but I find the mention of everyday technology very interesting. Cell phones are rarely used in movies because are distracting to the plot, but everyday life is constantly interrupted by them. It seems are the use of technology in this movie seems to propel the End because it is part of the plot. Technology such as nuclear weapons has been tied to the Apocalypse for a long time, but this kind of invasive technology has not been explored yet.