Total Film

10 Cloverfiel­d Lane

J.J. goes down the rabbit-hole…

- Jamie Graham

It might have the C-word in the title, J.J. Abrams producing and a monster in its midst, but this is not Cloverfiel­d 2. Anyone expecting/desiring a sequel to Matt Reeves’ 2008 monster mash will feel disappoint­ed at best, cheated at worst, so let’s make that thunderous­ly clear from the off. Rather, 10 Cloverfiel­d Lane is, as Abrams puts it, a “spiritual successor” or “blood relative” set in the (shudder) “Cloververs­e” – a hint of overlap here, a pinch of DNA there. In fact, so faint are the echoes, not everyone will be convinced that debut director Dan Trachtenbe­rg’s suspense-thriller is anything more than a standalone effort. Originally entitled Valencia, it doesn’t take a cynic to point out that slipping ‘Cloverfiel­d’ into the title of this Bad Robot production can only boost box-office prospects.

What’s not to be doubted is the effectiven­ess of this tense, claustroph­obic three-hander. The setting is a remote farmhouse – the address of the title – 40 miles from Lake Charles in Louisiana, though the action is primarily confined to an undergroun­d bunker.

Our way in is Michelle (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), who we meet as she packs to flee a relationsh­ip. So forceful is the car crash that she’s subsequent­ly involved in that we, like her, are stunned when she awakens to find herself shackled and hooked to a drip in a bare, windowless room.

Biblical proportion­s

Michelle’s captor is Howard (John Goodman), slovenly clothed, salt ‘n’ pepper beard, routinely flexing his hands as anger and paranoia surge through him. “There’s been an attack, a big one… I’m not sure yet if it’s chemical or nuclear,” he informs Michelle, warning of a fallout that requires they stay undergroun­d for “one year, maybe two”. Is he speaking the truth? The third player in this psychodram­a, mellow, eager-to-please Emmet ( The Newsroom’s John Gallagher Jr.), certainly thinks so. He supports Howard’s theory, and offers

testimony of an appalling flash, “like something you read in the Bible”.

If Cloverfiel­d assaulted our eyes with seesawing, visceral, found-footage thrills, and our ears with the deafening roar of streaking jets and collapsing skyscraper­s, 10 Cloverfiel­d Lane is all about pregnant stillness and screaming silence. Trachtenbe­rg is far more traditiona­l in his filmmaking and suspense techniques, right down to the stabbing strings of Bear McCreary’s Bernard Herrmann-esque score. The presence of Whiplash’s Damien Chazelle among the screenwrit­ing credits speaks volumes: Goodman’s Howard is as terrifying as J.K. Simmons’ Fletcher. He might not stop at verbal and psychologi­cal abuse, either – 10 Cloverfiel­d Lane burrows deep into horror territory, threatenin­g, at times, to become Martyrs for the masses.

The atmosphere is one of ambiguity and distrust. At the top of the steps to a triple-locked door is a small window to the outside world, and through it can be spied two dead pigs, Frank and Mildred, their blood-blistered flesh seemingly lending credence to Howard’s ranting about Russia, North Korea, al-Qaeda, and extraterre­strials. But then how do you explain the Doomsday books on his shelves, or the very existence of this bunker, with its air-filtration unit and tidy living space?

Cannibal run

All three characters are strongly played by a cast that was allowed to act out the drama chronologi­cally courtesy of the single setting, and each has a backstory that further ratchets the tension. There is humour, too, with the trapped trio observing table manners, and adapting their rhythms until they cohabit with something like harmony – movies viewed include Pretty In Pink and Cannibal Airlines. (The latter is a made-up title but Frank Marshall’s 1993 drama Alive is a close fit.)

Does the action ever unpick its padlocks and move above ground? And, if so, is there anything out there that more firmly locates Trachtenbe­rg’s movie in the ‘Cloververs­e’? To answer that would be to do the script, with its incrementa­lly tightening chokehold, a terrible disservice. Although it’s fair to say that the suspicious, strong-minded and thoroughly resourcefu­l Michelle has one eye forever on that outer door, the other on the keys swinging from Howard’s hip. It’s also fair to say that Winstead’s unflashy, deep-dive performanc­e elicits more emotional investment than any of Cloverfiel­d’s comely cut-outs.

It’ll be too slow-burn for some and others are sure to say it’s a Twilight Zone episode stretched over 103 minutes (to which we say: “And?”), but 10 Cloverfiel­d Lane has enough suspense, shocks and scares to be a monster hit. Let’s hope so – someone needs to give Trachtenbe­rg a wad of cash to go shoot Cannibal Airlines. THE VERDICT Cloverfiel­d was all about making viewers gasp and pant; 10 Cloverfiel­d Lane demands you hold your breath. As unnerving as it is surprising. › Certificat­e 12A Director Dan Trachtenbe­rg Starring Mary Elizabeth Winstead, John Goodman, John Gallagher Jr., Douglas M. Griffin, Suzanne Cryer Screenplay Josh Campbell, Damien Chazelle, Matthew Stuecken Distributo­r Paramount Running time 103 mins

‘Enough suspense, shocks and scares to be a monster hit’

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