Super 8

Probably my most anticipated movie of the summer on account of J.J. Abrams writing and directing and due to the brilliant trailer that previewed the intriguing set-up of a train derailing and something big and powerful escaping from the wreck into the small town of Lilian nearby. Steven Spielberg is also attached to Super 8, ostensibly on producing duties, but make no mistake that his trademark style and genre tones are all over the movie.

J. J. Abrams has remarked that the ‘Spielbergian’ quality the film possesses is entirely deliberate; that Super 8 is an homage to the movies he loved and something of a love letter to those warm-hearted blockbusters of yesteryear that they just don’t really make anymore. E.T. is the most obvious touchstone (indeed, in a glib soundbite Super 8 could be called a 21st century version of E.T.) but the likes of The Goonies and Close Encounters of the Third Kind are also brought to mind.



Abrams isn’t just some Spielberg-lite foil here, mind. He produced Cloverfield, for example, and Super 8 does share some of the same hallmarks; strange creature of mysterious origins that is mostly glimpsed and heard wreaking destruction before eventually revealed.

The Super 8 of the title refers to the 8mm film and camera a small group of schoolfriends are using to make a homemade movie. Lead character Joe (Joel Courtney) is involved in doing the make-up and props for the film. Recovering from the grief of losing his mother (an event that occurred just days before the film begins) his equally grief-stricken father and deputy sheriff of the town, Jackson, struggles to cope with his new single-parent status. Hardly unable to relinquish the anger, and unwilling to see that all his boy needs most is a father that shows he loves him, the pair of them make for an understated study in isolated coping mechanisms.

Indeed, Super 8 might have been sold as a mysterious monster movie, but really it’s a study of a broken family unit recoiling from the emotional trauma and groping around in the dark trying to find hope out of the terrible events life throws up. When Jackson remarks about how he has found himself as the most senior law man around with the pressure of the town on his shoulders we know he’s really talking about circumstances that have dealt him responsibility of sole parenthood and his exasperation in trying to deal with that.



Make no mistake, this is a film that’s aiming right for your heart. Think of how Elliott in E.T. was quietly trying to reconcile his parent’s separation as he bonded with his little alien friend; it wasn’t so much a movie about an extra terrestrial trying to get home as it was about a small boy finding a loving connection to replace what he had lost. As Mrs. Comet (who had spent much of the film with tears in her eyes) said afterwards about Joe, “All he needed was a big hug.”



Alice Dainard (Elle Fanning, in a standout performance that straddles teenage cool and stoic fragility) joins the movie-making gang and befriends Joe, but she too has parent issues. Her father (Ron Eldard, doing well to betray the broken soul behind his stereotypically neglectful dad) is an embittered drunk who feels responsible for what happened to Joe’s mother; the two kids have father’s that don’t see eye to eye and can’t bear to see the two of them together. When the best thing they have is each other it’s a further blow for them to roll with.



It all sounds heavier-going than it is on screen, but it’s to the film’s credit that it doesn’t duck the heart-rending. I liked how the pain of these characters was displayed despite being kept mostly internal. Abrams shows a real deftness of touch in handling their miseries without it becoming depressing. Joe, clutching his mother’s necklace, watching old home videos of her, he doesn’t cry or wail on the world – he just aches inside and that’s what we see and what makes him all the more deserving of our sympathies.

But alongside this there is still a monster movie playing out. Boy-director Charles (Riley Griffiths) is constantly striving for better “production values” out of his amateur filmmaking efforts, which becomes an ironic refrain when he films the train destined to crash as a background to a scene. The train crash (peculiarly depicted from a completely different angle from the way it was shown in the trailer) is absolutely spectacular. Freight carriages fly through the air like missiles, land like bombs, crumple and mangle and bang and crash, whilst the small band of kids run screaming, dodging the carnage, amidst the chaos. In a summer of effects movies all vying to be the most impressive this is one scene that will take some beating.



Nothing else that follows carries as much impact. In traditional monster movie fashion we are given occasional scenes where the monster appears – invariably attacking some hapless victim who has only just been introduced. You don’t get to see much, but they are quick and loud and will make you jump before you’re returned back to a main character.

I did also think that J.J. Abrams, usually a reliable source of innovation and new licks on old tricks, did rely on clichés somewhat. Consider the army man Nelec. The usual stereotype of the military moving in to impose a cover up and ruthlessly do whatever is necessary to keep their secrets is employed here. You’ve seen it a stack of times before and it feels tired. The lack of justification of Nelec to be so vindictive and full of brute force, even against kids, is a plot mechanic rather than a fully-fleshed character. It’s lazy and, from Abrams, you’d expect better.



Without revealing anything, I can’t say I wasn’t overly-enthused by the monster and its backstory. The explanatory history is sketchy (and, frankly, the business with a psychic connection is weak in detail and effect) though it is rather stylish in design and presentation. Its penchant for electronic and mechanical items is intriguing though didn’t feel consistent (a car salesman complains about how all the engines from his cars have gone missing and, considering the carnage and damage we have previously seen occurring, it seems like an altogether too neat theft!) and, when it all comes together in the finale, it’s certainly raises question marks along the lines of: What actually happened and why did it happen at that moment?

That being said, such questions should only really occur afterwards. Super 8 can boast an emotionally resounding climax. Michael Giacchino’s score rarely draws attention to itself but, by the close, it’ll be one of the key reasons why you have a sizeable lump in your throat. John William’s E.T. score hasn’t got a major rival here but credit where credit’s due; when it's called upon to soar it really spreads its wings and hits the sky.

This 21st century version of E.T. probably won’t ever be considered a classic alongside that sugar-coated piece of nostalgic blockbuster perfection. Super 8 is nastier and rather more foul-mouthed, for one thing, but mostly it just doesn’t quite capture the magic or the wonder. Yet what it does well is foster central characters just bristling with restrained emotion that anchor the effects and the action superbly, more meaningfully. It’s not the most exhilarating film of the summer, nor the most action-packed, but in terms of heart and soul I doubt anything else with a big budget will get so much emotion captured on film.

They still don’t make them like they used to, but that doesn’t stop them making them pretty good all the same.