I had originally intended this blog to be about studying abroad in England, but I've realized that there wouldn't be much to say if I kept to only that topic. Instead, I'm going to write whenever I feel like it.
Now is that time.
I just finished the movie Cloverfield. Well, first a little background on my movie habits. I watch a lot of movies. Good, bad (in this case exceptionally bad), thought-provoking, idiotic, I'll watch it. For those who know me, I have an odd ability to actually enjoy the annoying or terrible, like Larry Anderson's smooth voice or social drama.
However, this film was so compellingly awful that I was shocked into finishing it just to see if it could potentially redeem itself. I think that the movie spawned from a nightmare of a camcorder enthusiast with Parkinson's and a Starship Troopers fetish (the minions reminded me of the aliens in that silly, but far superior, movie). Each time a main character departed from the camcorder party (usually by being dead), a glimmer of hope twinkled that perhaps the camcorder would change hands away from Stupid party to some other Leave-The-City-And-Live party, but it never happened. The movie never redeemed itself. It was a transparent love story under the guise of an weak monster movie. The unconvincing acting and nausea-inducing cinematography merely amplified the many story flaws. A few questions still linger
Why were the monster's arms so long?
Why was the timecode so messed up on the camera (did they fast forward a few seconds every time they began recording in a new locale)?
Why didn't Hud die earlier?
Why was only Marlena bitten? Why couldn't they all have been bitten?
Last one:
With many soldiers having camera-helmets and news choppers all around, why in the world would anyone keep such a terrible account of that catastrophe (or at least edit out the party at the beginning)?
That film made me tired.
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