Godzilla with a Shit Camera

If a film is hyped up loads before I go to see it, it’s invariably a rubbish pile of bad cinema experience. As it happens, I’ve been busy as an excessively promiscuous girl in a high security prison for the past few months and as result I didn’t really notice the hype. There was therefore a good chance that the blow of watching Cloverfield may have been softened slightly. That said, I have very little to say about it that could be considered positive.

Fans of Cloverfield will tell you that the fact they filmed it with a Camcorder is somehow innovative and daring. Fans of Cloverfield should fuck all the way off. They filmed it with a Camcorder not because they were being original, but because if they’d filmed it with a real camera, it would have just been Godzilla, which was so bad that when I watched it I caught fire. Filming your film with a Camcorder is the cinematic equivalent of wearing loose fitting clothes to cover up the fact you’re fat. You’re still fat, but people can’t see you’re fat, and that is somehow supposed to make it better.

This film was horrible and shit, but the fact it was filmed with a Camcorder meant you saw so little of it that you couldn’t really tell. Well you probably couldn’t, but I could.

I am now going to claim to move on to different subjects and not touch on the fact Cloverfield employed a fat girl trick to get away with peddling a fat girl of a movie, and I’m then going to continually make reference to it throughout this article.

Many book publishers often recommend completely removing the first chapter of a book before sending it to them. This is because inexperienced authors usually spend an age developing back story and setting the scene, oblivious to the fact that nobody cares and if something doesn’t blow up or get naked in the first few pages chances are they’re not going to read much further. This is a fairly basic rule of storytelling, but the people responsible for creating this fat girl of a movie (1) apparently missed that day at the school of the biblically fucking obvious.

The opening hour of Cloverfield was like watching a cross between an episode of The Real World and the film ‘We’re a load of boring fucking teenagers with lives nobody cares about and poor comedic timing attempting to make you interested in a film that is essentially just a fat girl in a baggy top(2)”. It lacked any of the following components of a film worth watching:

1. Nudity
2. Explosions
3. Something funny happening
4. Someone funny saying something funny
5. Something interesting
6. Someone interesting
7. Someone dying
8. Someone doing anything
9. Anyone doing anything
10. Anything

It was so much of a waste of time that it actually wasted more time than it took up. I found that there was a waste of time overflow that I was suffering for days after seeing it, everything I did took longer because of all the time that got wasted in that opening hour. In fact it apparently wasn’t even an hour, it was 25 minutes or so, but anyway, it was shit.

Finally, something happened. It was shit, but it happened. The head of the statue of……actually no, too boring to talk about. I’ll just give you this run down…

A big fucking monster that nobody could be bothered to explain appeared in New York and shat a load of little spider monsters all over the place. The American Military then unloaded every missile in the entire world into it, but it was apparently missile proof (?) and no damage happened to it at all for no good reason. The little spider things for some reason weren’t damage proof and regularly got their shit ruined by the pathetic teenagers who were boring me until I broke sweat at the beginning of the fat girl movie (3). The pathetic teenagers climbed a wobbly apartment block to rescue some other pathetic teenager who had had some sort of dildo accident (not true, but it would have been MUCH better if it was) and then they finally all fucking died. The whole time the guy wearing the baggy tee-shirt (4), sorry, I mean the guy filming with the Camcorder made comments that were apparently funny. One of them was funny in fairness to him, but that was just a statistical certainty. If you say enough things, one of them will probably be funny.

Anyway, I left not knowing why the film was called Cloverfield, not knowing why the monster was missile proof, not caring that the characters were all dead, not looking forward to the inevitable sequel, and not believing that the fat girl only looked fat because she had a baggy tee-shirt on. She was just fat (5)