Now that I have recovered from the intense motion sickness I experienced while watching CLOVERFIELD on Friday night, I find myself utterly torn on how I really feel about it. I am perplexed, befuddled...and slightly irritated. On the one hand, I can recognize that CLOVERFIELD is, indeed, a groundbreaking film directorially, fast-paced and chocked full of awe-inspiring monsters, the size of a brontosaurus, sci-fi geeks like myself dream about. On the other, however, the eighty-four minutes of nearly non-stop spastic, convulsive camera motion made it extremely hard for me to get into the film. In fact, at times the movement was so erratic that I could feel myself going cross-eyed and had to look away to prevent a migraine from igniting in my forehead. I realize that this is supposed to be an intense documentary-stylized picture, that the chaotic, frenzied desperation of the person holding the camera is a key element in producing a similar reaction in the viewer. CLOVERFIELD is supposed to represent the exact sensation, from a first-person perspective, of a man-eating monster invading New York City. And, in that respect, I feel that director J.J. Abrams achieved exactly what he set out to accomplish. However, does this make for an enjoyable movie-viewing experience? Honestly, for me, no.

CLOVERFIELD is one of the most highly anticipated movies of 2008. For months it has been mass-hyped in a strategic cloud of secrecy specially designed to make its day of unveiling a landmark moment. Rumors were spread, parties were thrown, and on opening day millions flocked to see what the big catch was all about. As a rule, I generally try my best to ignore this type of intense marketing, not wanting my expectations of a flick to be raised unnecessarily high because of advertising. However, the fact that there was so little revealed ahead of time peaked my interest and, I think subconsciously I was expecting to be able to write for you tonight a stellar review. I wanted so desperately to say to you with the utmost conviction that this was THE monster movie of 2008. The hell with GODZILLA, let there be CLOVERFIELD! Sadly, I simply don't know if I can offer you that opinion.

However, this is not because there is some gross lack of incredible monsters or a pitiful void in the acting department. Quiet the opposite can be said, in fact. The cast of CLOVERFIELD delivers a brilliantly believable performance from opening to closing credits, drawing you into their dire situation and ensnaring your attention effortlessly. You feel their pain, their fear and their desperation. You weep for their losses and you cheer for their perseverance in the face of anihalation. And, as I mentioned before, the monsters are incredible feats of CGI magic with a tentacled, roaring leviathan dripping parasitic spider-like creatures across Manhattan! Yet, as I watched the movie, longing to truly enjoy all of these excellent attributes it offered, I could not get past the dizzying destruction of the camera work. It actually ruined it for me. This is also why I don't ride roller coasters or jump out of airplanes... Or, apparently, enjoy J.J. Abrams mockumentaries about monsters invading a major city.

As you can see, I am torn on the true rating for this movie. I love monster movies. The bigger, the more grotesque, the better! And if CLOVERFIELD had been filmed in any other style, I am more than certain you would be listening to me rave on and on for pages about its pure genius and how it was going down in history as a landmark film. Perhaps it deserves a second screening for me to truly embrace it? Tough it out one more time so that I'm sure to love it like all of the other reviewers appear to be doing this weekend? Possibly. But I will agree to that only if can I take a couple of Dramamine beforehand.