10 Cloverfield Lane
by Christie Robb, MaddWolf.com
From the moments the credits jolt onto the screen, 10 Cloverfield Lane keeps you on the edge of your seat.
More of a second cousin than a sequel to 2008’s Cloverfield, J.J. Abram’s-produced 10 Cloverfield Lane is a claustrophobic thriller. No found footage. No shaky camera. No perturbed kaiju.
Following a car crash, Michelle (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) awakens shackled in a locked basement room, attached to an IV. So she’s understandably wary when confronted with the basement’s owner Howard (John Goodman). He places a tray of food next to her and tells her his malevolent plan is to…keep her alive.
He informs her that while she was unconscious there’d been an attack and most people on the outside are either dead or heading in that direction. The air has been contaminated and they’ll have to stay underground for a year or two. Howard doesn’t know if the Russians or the Martians are to blame, but he’s pleased with his decision to build a bunker under his farmhouse.
Howard and Michelle are not alone. The other inhabitant of the bunker is seemingly easygoing Emmett (John Gallagher Jr.) whose injuries confuse Michelle as he says he sustained them in attempt to fight his way inside.
From there on out the movie asks the audience if Michelle can trust either of the two men or the situation that she thinks she has found herself in. It’s a vague enough description, I know, but to attempt to explain it in more depth would ruin a lot of the fun.
As you would hope, in a movie with this small of a cast, each of the three actors gives a strong performance. Winstead’s Michelle is delightfully observant, practical, and resourceful. Gallagher is wistful and charismatic. And Goodman shines, giving a performance reminiscent of Walter Sobchak in The Big Lebowski—bouncing from paranoid to menacing to eccentrically charming, often in the same scene.
First-time director Dan Trachtenberg ratchets up the tension as the movie progresses, finding the creepiness in even the most mundane domestic activities.
Hello, My Name is Doris
by George Wolf, MaddWolf.com
As we grow older, do we dare expect more out of life than “attending lectures at the YWCA and stealing cheese?”
Doris (Sally Field) doesn’t, but then she meets the charming and much younger John (Max Greenfield) in a crowded elevator, steals a pencil out of his backpack, and starts dreaming of something more.
Turns out they’re on the same elevator because they work at the same New York office. John is the new art director at a firm where Doris has done data entry for eons, and once he shows her a little kindness, we see Doris’s fantasies play out in hilarious fashion.
Doris is still reeling from the recent death of the mother she cared for, which prompts battles with her family (Stephen Root, Wendy McLendon-Covey) and her therapist (Elizabeth Reaser) over hoarding habits and a refusal to sell the family home. Meanwhile, Doris’s longtime best friend (Tyne Daly) worries about her foolish infatuation with someone “barely old enough to vote.”
Field’s return to a leading role is a total joy, and she elevates the film at every turn, making director Michael Showalter’s shaky focus much more palatable.
Showalter (lead writer on the Wet Hot franchise) adapts Laura Terruso’s short film Doris & the Intern with a a script assist from Terruso herself, but he can’t hide the seams from the two different approaches he is stitching together. In keeping the emphasis on Doris’s kooky nature and an ever-present feel good vibe, the moments of budding poignancy about aging and emotional trauma seem misplaced and seriously undercut.
Just enjoy the fun of Doris wading into the hipster pool, learning about social media and finding her way in a world often oblivious to those her age. It’s the type of character we’re used to laughing at, but Field makes to easy to laugh with her.
