


What is the result of a low budget, a no-name cast and 80 minutes of shaky camera work? The answer: box-office gold. “Cloverfield,” the hush-hush monster flick from J.J. Abrams, broke the box-office record for a January opening, beating the 1997 re-release of “Star Wars” by $5.9 million. So, why the buzz? Why the huge turnout from American theatergoers?
Two words: viral marketing. Abrams and company began their advertising attack by releasing a mysterious trailer for “Transformers” audiences in July 2007. The clip featured hand-held video camera footage of an explosion on the New York City skyline, followed by the Stature of Liberty’s head tumbling down an urban street, ala “Escape from New York.” The film had no name, only a release-date: “01-18-08.”
What followed can only be described as blogospheric phenomenon. Websites for Japanese oil drilling companies and fictional soft drinks claimed to hold clues to the identity of the “Cloverfield monster.” Faux news footage of deep-sea drilling disasters and over-turned oil tankers flooded YouTube.com. The official movie Website, 1-18-08.com, offered only random photographs with time stamps and messages (not all of them in English) written on the back. Abrams himself offered nothing: his lips were tightly sealed. The viral campaign’s success was unprecedented. Moviegoers turned out for the “Cloverfield” opening weekend by the millions.
The movie itself is “filmed” entirely on one hand-held video camera. The back-story is that the tape was found in what used to be Central Park. While not as gut wrenching as “The Blair-Witch Project,” those prone to motion sickness might want to find a seat near the exit.
The film opens with the obligatory character-development-party-scene. The cast features some actors the audience members might recognize (Lizzy Caplan of “Mean Girls” fame and Mike Vogel from “Grind” and “Poseidon”) and some they definitely won’t. The bottom-line of this party scene: we’re meant to like these people. They get trashed, they strike out with hot girls, they bring rebound guys to their ex’s going-away party – it’s a month’s worth of Friday nights rolled into one. After the party, by the way, there is no music until the credits roll.
The drama escalates when an earthquake breaks up the party and an explosion rocks the New York skyline. Audience members begin to squirm in their seats as the partiers flee from the “terrorist attack.”
While Abrams and crew denied any direct parallel to Sept. 11, the similarities are unmistakable. Viewers will, no doubt, feel déj