Tonight, I saw the movie Cloverfield. I'm making this my first movie review in order to warn everyone out there who has not yet been forced into a fetal position by this horrific mindshit of a movie: do not waste your time.

The following is a full walkthrough of Cloverfield.

The movie begins by wasting a few minutes with a sound-test-style screen full of colored stripes with “D.o.D.” in the left bottom corner. Not knowing what the Department of Defense is, the people in the same theater as me all starting yelling about broken film, because they're stupid (read: in high school). After a short while of this nonsense, an off-balance loser begins poorly filming his slut girlfriend in bed. Viewers are captivated by tits and lured into the trap that is the movie itself.

The camera is soon handed off to some loser with a stupid name (Hud) who proceeds to walk around for the next 70 minutes or so at a 45-degree angle; at least, that's what the camerawork implies. Maybe the man has spinal cord issues or something. Since we rarely see this sex-starved excuse for a man, we don't know if that's the case.

The whole movie is shot by the fuckup with the camcorder at painful angles. I walked out of the theater sideways. He proceeds to spend 30 minutes filming a lot of drunk gossip-whores at a going-away party for some ungrateful cunt named Rob. Rob is obviously a douchebag, and his brother Jason confirms it, using the word “douchebag” in his actual statement. (Though admirable in his honesty, Jason later gets totally fucked.)

Rob spends his time during this snorefest of an opening sitting around like an emo bitch while he watches the whore girlfriend (now obviously an ex) shimmying around the apartment in a dress like a Caffeine-Free Coke can and making eyes at the dickless wonder she showed up with. Hud runs around the party like a freak with his camcorder, “documenting” the most miserable and boring people you'll ever hope not to see in a movie. Meanwhile, you sit in your seat wondering “why the fuck am I still here? For that matter, why did I show up in the first place?”

Seconds after Jason calls Rob a douchebag, their building shakes. They decide it was an earthquake and all come to the brilliant conclusion that rushing to the top of their crumbly, shittily constructed apartment building is a GREAT IDEA. They do so, and flaming shit starts raining down on them. Now realizing that this isn't just Manhattan sucking in a regular Manhattan way, they stumble drunk down to the street and stand around like hemorrhoids.

For the next period of ball-licking action, we catch only blurry and crooked glimpses of Not Cthulu. Not Cthulu scares the shit out of our clueless partygoers and beats up some buildings with its tail/dick. General Populace screams and panics. Everyone decides to cross over to Brooklyn (which sucks more than Manhattan but lacks monsters) via the bridge, which is conveniently nearby. Halfway across the bridge, Douchebag Rob receives a call from Slut Girlfriend, who screams over the phone that she's trapped in her apartment. Rob realizes that she's totally useless, which the audience already knew (this is called Dramatic Irony). At this point, the bridge decides that it's a fantastic idea to predictably collapse due to excess monster on it, and a pillar crushes Honest Jason. The Sort-of Hot Black Chick who arranged Rob's going-away party while being an uptight and whiny bitch starts screaming, and everyone charges over to Brooklyn, which sucks. We then remember that Hot Black Chick was Jason's fiancée, and we feel good for Jason dying rather than having to marry the bitch.

At this point, Douchebag thinks it's a good time to loot a store, and the rest of the city agrees... because as New Orleans taught us, looting during a life-threatening situation is for WINNERS. He check his voicemail and hears Slut Girlfriend sobbing and dying onto a message. “To replay this death-rattle, press one. To save the recording of your girlfriend dying, press two,” would have been appropriate at this point, but alas, Matt Reeves is still a twat.

You remember that the group also contains a really unattractive goth chick who Hud (camera boy) is fixated on, because she decides to wander in and have lines in the script.

Suddenly, Not Cthulu (AKA Plot Device) crashes into Brooklyn and continues ruining everybody's shit. A news station in the electronics store Douchebag is looting shows that Plot Device has smaller Plot Devices jumping off of it and killing things, which is awesome because they kind of look like headcrabs, and also because more people in Cloverfield are dying.

Douchebag tells everyone that his brilliant plan consists of charging back into the heart of the city (PROTIP: Where the monster is spending most of its time) to find Slut Girlfriend, who is probably dead. Goth Transsexual, Hot Black Chick and Hud (no name I make up can be stupider than Hud) decide to follow him for no reason whatsoever.

Here comes one of the only two good lines in the whole movie:

“You remember when that guy was lighting homeless people on fire in the subway? I just thought of how terrifying it would be to have a flaming hobo run out of the dark at us right now.”

That's awesome.

The Fucktastic Four go into a subway, where Douchebag talks to his mom on the phone and says how his brother is a dead son of a bitch. They then come up with another brilliant plan: let's walk along the dark subway tracks until another Plot Device finds us! They do so. Little monsters attack them and nom-nom-nom on the Goth Transsexual. For one moment you think maybe Hot Black Chick is going to die, but sadly she escapes.

All four lock themselves in a room and the viewers are treated to a view of Goth Tranny's back wounds. They continue from there into a mall of some kind where the Army jumps them and takes them to a little plastic tent base in Macy's.

Douchebag starts pleading with a badass general to help him find Slut Girlfriend, but his QQ-fest is interrupted when Goth Tranny starts literally crying tears of blood. Before she can break out into a solo of “How Could This Happen to Me?”, the Army guys ambush her and drag her into another little tent. We enjoy the silhouette of her spontaneously exploding.

The remaining assholes are escorted out by someone who gives a shit (certainly not me), and he informs them that at oh-six-hundred hours helicopter will be waiting at some park to take survivors away, after which the city's going to be bombed to kill Plot Device. They decide to chase Slut Girlfriend's vag-trail anyway.

They run through the city, during which there are many cuts involving poor camera-work. They find a building standing at a 45-degree angle (inkeeping with the rest of the film) and decide that it would be a lot of fun to jump to that building from the building it's leaning on. Their reasoning is that the crooked building is where Slut Girlfriend lives, and besides, it's on fire. XTREME.

They manage to jump over to her building, even though Hud is still toting his dick-cam like a moron. (No normal person carries a camcorder during physically demanding survival situations. Put the fucking camera down and RUN, you taint.) They find Slut Girlfriend unconscious, yet FUCKING ALIVE, impaled on a piece of rebar through her general heart-and-lung region. She wakes up and they pull her off of the rebar, after which she runs up many flights of stairs and jumps over to he other building. Obviously she has healing powers.

The new and unimproved Fucktastic Four go over to the helicopter place while Plot Device stomps around. The other good line is used here as they are making their way out of the building.

“What was that?!”

“Oh, just something terrible.”

“And what was THAT?”

“Something else. Also terrible.”

Continuing... They make it to the park, unfortunately. Hot Black Chick is loaded into a helicopter. She's the only one who fits since it's already packed, and it zooms off while Hud, Douchebag and Slut Girlfriend all shout “DON'T WORRY WE'LL MEET YOU THERE.” Yeah... right. You guys are totally fucked.

They get on their own helicopter just as Plot Device stomps over to where they are and apparently does not notice the little flying thing right next to it. As they soar above it, they watch Plot Device get blasted by some rockets, and it falls over in a cloud of smoke. Then, Hud fucks it all up by being happy and saying it's dead. Even though Plot Device was 2000 feet below them before, and not looking real tall after being rocketed, it suddenly appears and nabs their helicopter in its mouth. How an apparently evolved aquatic creature accustomed to extreme pressure manages to jump so fucking far into the air is not explained.

Their helicopter crashes and for one shining moment, you think it's over. Sadly, the Hallelujah chorus dies down and ALL THREE OF THEM exit in decent condition, although Douchebag needs to be coddled by Slut Girlfriend a little because he broke his clitoris in the fall.

Hud realizes he put the camera down to help pull Douchebag from under a daisy or similarly heavy thing, and runs over to get it. He discovers that Plot Device SOMEHOW SNUCK UP ON HIM, like 40-foot monsters are prone to do, and is glaring at him. This is the best view we get of Plot Device in the entire movie.

Unfortunately, there is one slight problem.

Plot Device has nuts on his head.

Well, that's what it looks like. His face is like a Krootox from Warhammer 40,000, and he seems to have these thin, delicate sacs on the back of his head, two of them. They swell and deflate like lungs, and are so fragile that you can see light through them. Though they seem to function like lungs, they look quite similar to a pair of nuts, so we're going with that.

My questions:

1) Why the FUCK does it have nuts on its head?

2) Isn't having lungs, nuts, or any other vulnerable and necessary body part located on an easily-targeted place like the back of your head a serious design flaw?

3) Why hasn't the Army shot them yet? They look really, really fragile. Fuck him up!

Then, just when you think Plot Device is going to purr and lick Hud, he leans over and mangles him to death. M-M-M-MONSTERKILL. For whatever reason, Douchebag and Slut Girlfriend both escape and keep the camcorder. LUCKY US.

They cower like pussies under a bridge, where they record a final sobfest as though anyone will give a shit. The film ends with a bomb blast ripping up the bridge and presumably killing those bitches, while Plot Device roars in the background.

If you wait until after the credits, cryptic J. J. Abrams bullshit continues when garbled radio static is heard. If played backwards ( what the fuck? ) it says “It's still alive.” Not that we expected anything less. If it continues to lure in the stupid and bored and steal their money, it will never die.

Conclusion (what the movie lacked): Cloverfield was an annoyingly bad miscarriage of a film which tries to be “edgy” and “touching” with poor camera skills and shitty acting. I would courtesy-flush after watching this movie, if you bother to waste your time at all. It's just Godzilla with Downs Syndrome.

Rating: -3 stars out of 5.

Guest reviewer Albino Arab says:

“Many a monster mash has been the stage to explore panic. That was the point of War of the Worlds - it wasn't about Martians kicking our ass. It was about how had we not panicked, the casualties would have been so much fewer. Cloverfield lacks any sort of exploration of human nature, other than "We don't like it when our friends explode/are eaten/are crushed/are maimed."

It was a study in how a group of hipster mongoloids manage to sign their own death warrant by being stupid, and how New York is still not monster-resistant in any way. It was a little different from the standard find-a-scientist-who-can-tell-us-how-to-kill-it film. Big deal. The camera work (the only interesting/good factor) could still have been vastly improved. Basically, the movie really wasn't anything new. It tried and failed to be a human interest piece when the fast crab things began their attack. It tried and failed to be a fast action flick when the young people spend several hours trying and failing to build their melodramatic, hollow characters. This movie failed miserably. Why does everyone like it so much?”

I'd sure like to know that myself, Arab.