Super 8
Powered by sweet nostalgia, the sensational sci-fi drama Super 8 essentially exists on an island of writer-director JJ Abrams' creation, one that survives on a steady diet of genre gems like E.T., The Goonies, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and The Thing. Considering that Steven Spielberg was involved in three of those movies and also produced this one, it's not too surprising that Super 8 emerges a hybrid of creature features and tear-jerking family dramas. In Abrams' imaginative hands, it's a spectacular combination that bares its emotions for all to see and smartly keeps its dramatic epicentre close to the characters.
Abrams strikes a touching chord from the opening frames, as he instantly pulls us into the small town setting (we're in the fictional Ohio town of Lillian) and sets up the initial tragedy that ignites the core conflict. Young Joe (expertly played by newcomer Joel Courtney) is mourning the loss of his mother, who perished in a factory accident. The distance between Joe and his now single father (the town Deputy, played with wounded energy by Kyle Chandler) is felt immediately when we see Joe sitting outside on his swing set, while his father is seen inside their house, trying to keep things together at his wife's wake.
This sets up a fractured family dynamic right from scene one and both Courtney and Chandler sell the situation with reserved frustration. This opening scene also introduces us to Joe's gang of friends, a motley crew of lovable kids, fully believable and each interesting in his own unique way. They're a fun bunch to spend time with and Joe's a great fit with the group. He's going to need some shoulders to lean on right now and we can trust his buddies to be there to help. Perhaps most instrumental in taking Joe's mind off the pain (other than a "Four Months Later" announcement) is the zombie movie he is making with his friends. Directed by best buddy Charles (a fantastic Riley Griffiths), this short flick is both a fun project for the boys and an important piece of the narrative puzzle.
The movie-within-the-movie leads to the casting of love interest Alice (a delightful Elle Fanning), the enchanting girl next door who appears to be genuinely interested in Charles' zombie movie, which certainly excites a smitten Joe. The making of the monster movie also proves to be Abrams' chosen path to unleashing his own movie monster. One night, during a shoot at a railway station, the kids witness a horrifying train crash that apparently leads to the escape of an unseen alien creature. This sequence is massively impressive, a gargantuan display of destruction that convincingly causes the children to desperately scramble for their lives.
It's a thrilling, harrowing way to shake up the conflict and it isn't long before the military is marching into little Lillian looking to capture the creature that supposedly escaped the wreckage. This adds further problems for the characters, who are already facing their fair share of challenges. Once the monster is on the loose, the whole town seems to suddenly border on the edge of chaos, which quickly widens the gap between Joe and his father even more. Tensions start to rise all over now and the pain that's been simmering beneath the surface begins to boil to the top. In this sense, the creature is more metaphor than monster and more of a catalyst for change than anything else.
Abrams uses the creature as both an homage (it is indeed dangerous to some, but it really is just another alien that wants to go home) and a way to put things into perspective for the characters. All the attacks and mysteries and military ploys take Joe and his dad and Alice and Charles and everyone else on a wild adventure, but the events also put things into focus for the characters and remind them that with tragedy comes the responsibility to find the courage to move on. It's a strong message, delivered with absolute sincerity by both Abrams and his cast, which makes Super 8 stand out as that rare blockbuster that actually earns its sentimentality.
Of course, none of this would be possible without the kids. I cannot shower this young cast with enough praise, so effortlessly watchable and wonderful they all are. Courtney is amazing as the protagonist who is being forced to grow up too quickly, while Fanning brings gentle ambiguity and grace to her role. Griffiths is funny without being some lazy form of comic relief, instead coming across as a solid kid as in love with movies as the man who is actually directing him. The other kids have smaller roles (a very enjoyable Ryan Lee plays Cary, who is fascinated with fireworks and not much else), but even the more obviously supporting roles are well developed and effectively cast.
Drawing upon multiple inspirations, Abrams has created a boldly beautiful beast that operates simultaneously as a throwback to specific genre work and the birth of something new. Abrams has his identity written all over the movie and his dedication to committed character work is what allows Super 8 to pack such a glorious punch. He extracts nuanced performances from the cast and he gives each actor a significant amount to work with. His thoughtful script explores the complexities of the narrative with a delightful charm and wide-eyed wonder. It should be noted that his inexplicable obsession with lens flares is on full display here and this visual touch can be distracting at times, but that's an especially minor quibble in the midst of such greatness. Considering how much Abrams gets right here (almost everything, really), I'm willing to quite happily accept his indulgent visual flourishes.
A blockbuster with all the right parts in all the right places, this movie will likely remain not only a grand highlight of the summer movie season, but also of the entire year. Abrams really has outdone himself here, crafting an adventure movie that is so well paced it would still entertain in mammoth fashion even without the great big heart that keeps on beating. But it is that heart (and the cast and script and direction) that makes this a movie to remember. When genius composer Michael Giacchino's score soars skyward, the emotional reach of the movie towers above us. There is so much going on here, but it's all held steadfastly in place and all of the potentially disparate pieces feel tightly tied together.
Surprisingly, Super 8 is a monster movie that doesn't appear to really need a monster. But we get one anyway and when the creature (codename: Cooper) is finally allowed to be a character, Abrams hits what may be the most poignant note of his career. The tale of finding our way home, be we children or parents or aliens, hasn't been grafted on a science fiction frame so sweetly as this in a very long time (that E.T. guy comes to mind). Without a doubt, Abrams has succeeded in delivering his love letter to a bygone and much beloved era of American moviemaking. Through this success, he has achieved something I generally consider almost impossible in today's blockbuster market. He has given us treacle (usually a most hated substance of mine) and somehow turned it into an honest emotional experience, one that rings true because, as Cooper the alien will attest, the world of Super 8 is so tenderly, touchingly human.
