Review: Super 8

This review contains a few spoilers, which I have marked.

During the often heated debates about this year’s Sucker Punch, more than a few argued that it should be appreciated for being an “original property,” i.e. not based on any preexisting comics/books/films/video games etc. The common retort to that defense was that it was actually based on all of them, the argument being that, as an amalgamation of various geek cultural touchstones, its supposed originality was negated. Without saying anything for or against that film, much of the critical appraisal for J. J. Abrams’ Super 8 has focused on a similar discussion about its originality (though in this case the responses have tended much more towards the positive). While some have applauded it as a breath of fresh air in a summer of sequels/prequels/remakes/reboots and the like, others have accused it of simply aping the early 80s works of Steven Spielberg (a producer on this film), taking a variety of familiar elements and repackaging it under the guise of homage. Unfortunately, while the film starts off as a familiar but very effective coming of age story, J.J. Abrams is completely unable to match his mentor when it comes to successfully integrating the disparate halves of his story.

Joe (Joel Courtney) is a young boy growing up in a small town in 1979. He’s just lost his mother to an industrial accident and as a result he is estranged from his hard-edged father (Kyle Chandler), the sheriff of the town. In his spare time Joe works as a make-up and special effects technician on Super 8 movies with his friends. One night, while shooting a scene at a train station with a cute young girl from their class, the boys witness a devastating train derailment. With the government’s intervention the next day, and a subsequent rash of strange occurrences (dogs disappearing, electricity going haywire etc.) it becomes clear that something has escaped from the train and is threatening this small community. It falls to Joe and his friends (and his potential new crush) to figure out what is going on and what they can do to stop it.

Super 8 begins with a wealth of promise. The characters in the early scenes are extremely well drawn, and Abrams does a great job of sketching out the sad details of Joe’s situation, as well as creating a believable and funny dynamic between the group of young boys. This all builds to a wonderful moment between Joe and Alice, the young girl he has a crush on (Elle Fanning), followed by another great moment in which Alice holds the boys (and the audience) captivated by her acting abilities. The film up to this point relies solely on character, seemingly laying the groundwork for a satisfying story of adolescent pain and first love.

And then J.J. has to go and ruin it with a monster movie.

That’s coming from someone who loves monster movies. In fact, the Abrams-produced Cloverfield, which so many maligned upon its release, was one of my favorite films of that year. But the choice to introduce this science fiction element cripples the film. First of all, while some of the scenes with the monster are creepily effective, they’re never connected satisfactorily to what is going on with Joe and his friends. This scary creature rampaging across the small town plot seems to sort of just exist on its own for awhile; we’ll have a scene of Joe getting to know Alice better or the kids attempting to film their monster movie with the added “production value” of the recent military presence, then cut to a scene of the menacing the town. In attempting to balance these two separate story elements, Abrams short-changes them both. The characters, no longer given the time to develop, simply become pawns in the science fiction story, effectively losing what dimension they had earlier. I haven’t even mentioned the side story of Joe’s father (gamely played, but ultimately let down by the script, by Kyle Chandler). His character has buried himself in his work after his wife’s death, but his relationship with his son is illustrated solely through tired clichés (“You never understood me!”) and his attempts to discover what’s happening in the town are only a distraction and add nothing to the proceedings but padding. The decision to keep the monster hidden for most of the runtime is, I guess, Abrams’ homage to Jaws and its effective (and necessary for budgetary reasons) withholding of shark’s appearance in order to build tension. But Abrams never truly evokes a sense of menace, the feeling that the monster could be around any corner, because the film is so unfocused.

If the Jaws section of the film falls flat, then the E.T. section is, frankly, insulting. See, towards the end of the film, once the monster’s origins are revealed, the film suddenly decides it’s not about adolescent romance or a family unit being reconciled in the face of a monstrous threat. No, somewhere along the line it becomes a (*Spoilers*) story of shared grief, of two vastly different figures (Joe and the monster) each dealing with painful loss and their ability to overcome it by letting go. This would be great if the film had given us much indication that Joe was truly impacted by his mother’s death. While he certainly seems sad, he actually seems remarkably well composed for a kid 4 months after his mother’s death. If he, like the monster, had been angrily lashing out at those whom he had perceived to have hurt him, then the ending could have worked. Instead, it comes as an inexplicable development late in the film, eventually building up to an ending that is astonishing in its assumption that it can gain so much emotional catharsis out of so little effort (*End Spoilers*)

I have liked J.J. Abrams’ previous projects to one degree or another and with Super 8 he appears to reach for the blockbuster auteur mantle of Spielberg. Notwithstanding what happened to the last guy deemed “the next Spielberg” (M. Night Shyamalan), this ambition seems to have either hamstrung him (by attempting to stick to closely to copying the master) or, a more disheartening possibility, revealed him as a guy with not much original to say. While Super 8 certainly captures a bit of that Spielberg touch in its early moments, ultimately Abrams is unable to replicate what made those earlier films work, remaining content to coast on their fumes in the hope that audiences will be desperate for even a rough approximation of their charms.