Super 8 [Review by Haus]

So you’ve been wondering what on earth Super 8 is? Easy. It’s E.T. meets Cloverfield.

How is it? It’s solid. It’s actually less of a sci-fi thriller than you might expect, and more of a fun period piece that regularly strays into grindhouse B-movie territory. If this sounds at all appealing, well, you should probably see it. Honestly, this isn’t rocket science. We could probably stop the review right here.

But let’s not. The hype surrounding this movie — and apparently there was some — centered on the secrecy of the central storyline. Is it an alien film? A disaster film? A creature film? What will said creature look like? And so on. Despite these online whisperings, I didn’t give Super 8 much thought. Sure, I saw the blockbuster-esque teasers earlier this year, but frankly I never felt impelled to snoop around for answers. I don’t even know what answers awaited those who did — maybe the story was leaked, maybe not.

I’m going to go ahead and say it doesn’t much matter. The nature of the calamity in Super 8 isn’t too important. Sure, there are some (almost cheaply) scary moments. And there’s an awful lot of “I wonder what’s really going on here” (think more Cloverfield, less E.T.). But there’s also a solid and unrelated story — with kids as protagonists. These kids manage to be innocent but not too innocent, kinda cute but not problematic-cute, and their story is novel without being unbelievable. You’d be surprised — a truly kid-centric story is actually a refreshing treat in a grown-up film. (No, I don’t say “grown ups.” But the alternative was “adult film.” Sympathize.) And for those of us fortunate enough to remember seeing E.T. as children, there’s a definite nostalgic kick. The setting, the kids, the lingo, the toys, and even the color palette evoke those special sort of childhood pseudomemories that exist only as imports from long-forgotten films. If Super 8 is homage to small-town sci-fi of three decades past (okay, now think E.T.) — and clearly it is — then it’s thoroughly well executed.

Other treats await. Super 8’s opening scenes are a study in in-your-face subtlety — quickly, cleverly, but gently forcing a key story detail into our laps. It’s a cheeky portent from a film that intends to spend much of its 112-minute runtime playing hide the ball. What else? The small-town-sheriff-facing-big-trouble routine is among the most thoroughly played-out tropes around, but no matter. It’s played straight, and Kyle Chandler brings a pleasant earnestness to the role.

If Super 8 has a fault, it’s that it’s so effective at hiding the aforementioned ball that its ultimate revelation comes as something of a side note. I never mustered much interest in the grand reveal. Sure, it was a neat twist on the typical path similar stories often take (gosh, avoiding spoilers leads to some truly tortured commentary), but for me it really wasn’t the main event. By the time I’d earned my more-than-momentary-glimpse-of-what-the-hell’s-been-going-on, I was too thoroughly fulfilled by the rest of the tale. Did J.J. Abrams plan this all along? Was the sci-fi “core” always incidental, always just a cheap hook to drag us into a story we never knew we’d love? If so, well, dude’s got skill. It didn’t work quite so well in Cloverfield (which, please note, Abrams produced) and by all accounts it didn’t work so well on LOST either. But he’s done it here.

Super 8 offers a lot more than the typical summer blockbuster. Between this and X-Men: First Class, it’s already a good summer.

HAUS VERDICT: Immersive E.T.-era small-town sci-fi with a solid cast of kids (!) and a strong nostalgic kick.

See what the other half thinks: Parsi’s review.