Gone, also, is the mass destruction of an entire city to induce horror. In fact, this film takes place mostly in an underground shelter, one of those shelters we’re used to seeing fanatical ‘end of days’ psychos prepping for some imagined Armageddon. Except this time, it appears such Armageddon has transpired. Or at least that is what frightened Michelle (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) is told by Howard (a completely unhinged John Goodman), who she views as her captor.
A man with a broken arm named Emmett, who claims Howard saved his life before the apocalyptic event (John Gallagher Jr.), completes the triangle of ‘survivors’ in the basement. The tone of “10 Cloverfield Lane” is what films like “Doom” were doubtless trying to encapsulate before they failed miserably.
The first thing the movie does right is limit the cast to only three individuals, horror evoked not through sights seen, but unseen sights, described.
We see darkened glimpses of decaying pigs – the supposed aftermath of a chemical attack – as well as one scene where a horrified shape smacks into an airtight door. In fact we do see, later, that several noxious things do indeed patrol outside the desolate farmhouse. But that won’t be hinted at here. It’s not what the movie’s about, and would only serve as a desperate spoiler. The real horrors of this movie lay inside.
Goodman absolutely owns this movie. I’ve liked him in movies such as the Academy Award-winning “Argo,” or a strange monster movie named “Fallen” that some may have forgotten.
Here he paints a man pitiable and monstrous, a man whose angle we are not even 100% clear on as the movie reaches its bizarre climax.
It’s his speech. In his speech, in the words he chooses, in the ones he doesn’t, as well as his glances and wayward movements – he terrifies us. I was reminded of the tense dialogue of Anthony Perkins in Hitchcock’s “Psycho” – a tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Goodman imbues the film with an elemental horror that’s nearly impossible given the entire film is trap-cramped into 3 or 4 tiny rooms. Jeff Cutter’s cinematography expertly matches this. The taut suspense the filmmakers and actors cram into one scene – at a dinner table – ratcheted up my nerves to a breaking point not usually the norm for me. I rarely get affected by standard horror tropes. But when it uncoils, when it explodes, I had to admit: This movie’s got something.
With the short time we are given to get to know “Cloverfield’s” two subsequent actors, the film does a good job developing unique personalities.
The script paints the characters in clever ways and finds interesting avenues to build depth. Emmett is a simple man who never amounted to much, yet there is solemnity and respect for him as he tells his story. Michelle has a fear of abandonment and is guarded (for good reason) for most of the movie – though a heart-to-heart between her and Emmett is doleful and sweet. Michelle has a secret too – she always wanted to be a fashion designer. The script finds an interesting way to work this in to the movie.
“10 Cloverfield Lane” waxes and wanes from tepid kinship, to Stockholm Syndrome, to outright horror in a near endless cycle, winding up your nerves. And when a violent act happens towards the film’s end you’re shocked – because you didn’t see it coming and really should have.
Goodman’s performance really makes the movie, but is more a supporting act. The mythos, the force
that drives him really shapes the film, even as we never truly find out what that is.
The film’s ending is bizarre, unexpected, and just “Cloverfield”-esque enough to entice fans of the original. It provides closure for Michelle, while hinting at a possible sequel somewhere down the road.
All in all “10 Cloverfield Lane” is a good film. It is suspenseful, is scary, and features good acting all around. However, if you’re looking for the Clover monster running amok, destroying buildings, you’re better off staying at home. This isn’t that type of movie. It’s an old-fashioned suspense thriller à la “Misery,” not a monster versus skyscraper demolition fest.
– by Mark Ziobro
