1-18-08 QT
http://chud.com/articles/articles/10976/1/1-18-08-QT/Page1.html
Jeremy Smith
Born in Bowling Green, Ohio, baptized in New York City and done dirty in Los Angeles, Jeremy Smith is not much for parades.By Jeremy Smith
Published on 07/9/2007
If I were J.J. Abrams, right before introducing Zachary Quinto as The New Spock* to the hemorrhoidal Hall H masses at Comic Con, I'd let slip the title of 1-18-08 aka Cloverfield aka Die, Handheld, Die, because, while the mystery surrounding the project is kind of fun, the sheer inscrutability of everything surrounding it is eventually going to drive the geek faithful mad.
Or maybe it's just me. All I know is, for the last half-hour, I mindlessly stop-started this goddamn teaser (now in Quicktime!) looking for clues as to what... well, to be honest, I don't know what I was looking for. Basically, I was like Homer scrutinizing that full-page Gabbo ad ("What's a Gabbo?"), determined to find meaning where there so plainly was none. At one point, I tried to make out the spray-painted words on the back of a parking sign. "Dead... dead? Dead... something. Or is it Dear Dead? Dead Dear? You idiot, it's a frame from the film! Who'd imbed pertinent, split-second information on the back of a street sign in the body of their movie!?!?"
And I don't even watch Lost! Look, I salute you, J.J. In the past couple of weeks, I've heard theories claiming this is a new Godzilla movie, a "Call of the Cthulhu" adaptation and a complete bit of subterfuge deployed to throw us off the scent of another secret project (a Lost movie, Star Trek, Indianapolis, etc.). For some reason, and this is what really pisses me off, I've entertained these outlandish notions even though I've got unimpeachable sources assuring me it's just a giant monster movie. Nothing more, nothing less. But thanks for speeding along the deterioration of my mental state. You're a real swell fella.
And, uh, if any readers should happen to spy anything... unusual in the trailer, please don't hesitate to shoot me an email!
*If the deal was officially closed, I'd run this as a story, but, to the best of my knowledge, they're still in negotiations.
1-18-08 QT
If I were J.J. Abrams, right before introducing Zachary Quinto as The New Spock* to the hemorrhoidal Hall H masses at Comic Con, I'd let slip the title of 1-18-08 aka Cloverfield aka Die, Handheld, Die, because, while the mystery surrounding the project is kind of fun, the sheer inscrutability of everything surrounding it is eventually going to drive the geek faithful mad. Or maybe it's just me. All I know is, for the last half-hour, I mindlessly stop-started this goddamn teaser (now in Quicktime!) looking for clues as to what... well, to be honest, I don't know what I was looking for. Basically, I was like Homer scrutinizing that full-page Gabbo ad ("What's a Gabbo?"), determined to find meaning where there so plainly was none. At one point, I tried to make out the spray-painted words on the back of a parking sign. "Dead... dead? Dead... something. Or is it Dear Dead? Dead Dear? You idiot, it's a frame from the film! Who'd imbed pertinent, split-second information on the back of a street sign in the body of their movie!?!?"
And I don't even watch Lost! Look, I salute you, J.J. In the past couple of weeks, I've heard theories claiming this is a new Godzilla movie, a "Call of the Cthulhu" adaptation and a complete bit of subterfuge deployed to throw us off the scent of another secret project (a Lost movie, Star Trek, Indianapolis, etc.). For some reason, and this is what really pisses me off, I've entertained these outlandish notions even though I've got unimpeachable sources assuring me it's just a giant monster movie. Nothing more, nothing less. But thanks for speeding along the deterioration of my mental state. You're a real swell fella.
And, uh, if any readers should happen to spy anything... unusual in the trailer, please don't hesitate to shoot me an email!
*If the deal was officially closed, I'd run this as a story, but, to the best of my knowledge, they're still in negotiations.