Not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be

So I saw Cloverfield last night. And I am strictly enjoined against "reviewing" it in any way before Friday, so I cannot say much in the way of value statements. I will just say this:

Usually, when a film is screened for critics only three days before its release, it is a very bad sign. It means that the publicity department doesn't really want critics to have time to get their coverage together before the film. Having seen the movie, I think this is a rare case where they screened it late more because the primary thing the movie campaign has going for it is secrecy, and even the most positive, well-intentioned critical review will necessarily blow some of that secrecy. This is one of those movies that I think people are better off going into knowing very little about, and reviews, even positive ones, are just going to get in the way.
One second after it ended, the squeaky girl right behind me snapped "That movie SUCKED! That was TERRIBLE! I HATED it!" and all her friends loudly and pointedly agreed that it was AWFUL and they thought they were going to PUKE because the CAMERA kept moving and OH MY GOD WAS THAT BAD.
I think they were morons. With terrible taste in film.
aizuchi, take your Dramamine before you go in, or you will wind up with Blair Witch Vomiting Syndrome again. And nobody wants that. Least of all the people sitting right in front of you.
Stay through the credits if you can. Not for any end-of-credits excitement — there's no scene there, though there was a whispered word on the audio that might have meant something — but for the HUGE BOMBASTIC SYMPHONIC SCORE (apparently titled "Roar!") over the credits, which was so very unlike the tone or quality of anything that had come before that kp3000 and I snickered through most of it. It just! Keeps! Building! OMG! BOOM! CRASH! ROOOOAR! Best gaming music ever. At least if you could time it right so your whole party was getting messily killed toward the end.
More on Friday, if I have time, once talking about the film itself won't get me shot by the publicists.

I'm-a feelin': satisfied