Super 8

Part of the reason I blog at all is to maintain some practice with writing. This hasn’t worked well since by the time I’m done with the work day, I never want to type again. But there’s this old manuscript that wants to finish its digital conversion (from analog Smith-Corona original to digital Word) so that I can revive the 1988 published novel (Derelict, ah I remember it fondly). And then I can polish the new one, and get on with the next one. Kindle, I have stuff coming to Kindle!

In the meanwhile, I’m not sure what to make of Super 8. I know, it’s been out a few weeks already, but I don’t want to write about Transformers: Dark of the Moon because it was just loud and silly, the motion picture equivalent of a decent Fourth of July fireworks display (i.e., all flash, less than zero substance). So I took a moment to catch Super 8 and I’m left with this overall feeling of meh.

It is by no means a bad film, it’s just...lacking.

Super 8 is J.J. Abrams’ homage to Steven Spielberg, specifically Spielberg’s films of the late 1970’s, early 1980’s. As such, it is set in 1979 and tells the tale of Joe Lamb (Joel Courtney) and his band of early teen buddies. This band of buddies are budding filmmakers, filming a zombie epic in their small, Ohio town. During a late-night shoot at a train station, they witness the deliberate derailment of an Air Force freight train. They flee as the military comes sweeping in to secure the area, and thus is the film’s central mystery launched because something seems to have fled the scene of the crash, something not of this earth (cue eerie and suspenseful music cue).

And as the central plot is launched, the film begins to unravel. Not the least of its problems is its utter predictability. If you were to pause the film immediately after the train wreck, and then sketch out the plot points you know about and those you might speculate about, you’d discover you were right and, worse, your guesses as to how all would be handled would be spot on. “Predictable” is such an understatement as applied to this film.

Super 8 is also vaguely nasty and cynical. While it’s trying to be an homage to early Spielberg, it is clearly a product of our times. The film can be directly compared to E.T. and Close Encounters of the Third Kind. From E.T. comes the notion of a young kid encountering an extraterrestrial, and from CE3K comes the more adult contact and the government’s reaction.

Yet, both Spielberg films are utterly devoid of cynicism. Rather, they revel in wonderment (something that livens most Spielberg films). Even when the government is perceived as acting poorly, they do so with honorable intent. They may be blundering and stupid, as in E.T., but their ultimate goal is peaceful contact, to learn and understand rather than be fearful and destroy. They are never evil.

Consider the scene and line in E.T. that makes me gasp and tear-up every time I see it. E.T. is captured and dying, Elliot (Henry Thomas) is dying right along with him, and everyone is afraid of everything. And in that dark moment, Keys (Peter Coyote) tries to reassure Elliot. How? “I’ve been waiting for this moment since I was eleven years old.” This is a moment void of cynicism and deception; it is a moment of connection and honesty.

Super 8 has nothing even close to this. Instead, adults are almost universally stupid, the military is simply evil, the kids are almost universally the good guys, and the alien is just an innocent. Yes, there is a moment near the end where Abrams attempts to make a connection between events in Joe’s life and what’s been happening to the alien. But it is done in such obvious fashion, is so utterly predictable, that its pay off is more “you have got to be kidding me” than “wow.”

The film does have its positive aspects. Joel Courtney is impressive as Joe and Kyle Chandler does his standard excellent bit as Joel’s father, but the stand out is Elle Fanning as one of the band of buddies newest member. Her performance is a stand-out.

The look and feel of the film capture perfectly those early Spielberg films, except for Abrams continued affection for lens flare. Really, J.J., it just sucks. Maybe not as bad as shaky-skaky cam, which this film completely rejects, but damn near. The special effects are good enough, even if the alien looks like a tiny version of Clovie from Cloverfield.

Michael Giacchino’s music deserves a quick comment. Like several other film composers in recent years, Giacchino is coming into his own. One of the things he is truly excellent at is capturing the tone and feel of other era’s and other composers, and doing so in such a way that it feels fresh rather than rehash. Here, he channels Spielberg’s go-to composer, John Williams, and some of the music captures precisely the early wonder that came from Williams, and that Williams himself seems to have lost the ability to recreate. Picasso said that a good artist borrows, while a great artist steals. Giacchino is a great thief on his way to becoming a great artist.

In the end, Super 8 is all set-up with no pay-off. All the first act effort goes precisely nowhere. And because of that, as an homage it’s a failure. Spielberg films always had a superb pay-off, be it as spectacular as an alien mothership lifting into the heavens, or as simple as the face of a little boy watching as his alien friend heads home. Comparatively speaking, Abrams hasn’t even found Spielberg’s shadow.