Monsters

A film called Monsters? If you know nothing of the film Monsters then you will probably be expecting an epic disaster-action film a la the new Skyline or 1998’s Godzilla; thinking of citywide destruction and howling reptilian beasts with punctuating lightening strikes. If you have heard some of the buzz, then you are likely intrigued by the singular effort of the production (Gareth Edwards wrote, directed and edited the film) and the miniscule budget associated with it. Like America’s most recent and commercially successful forays into the “Monster/Alien movie” (District 9 and Cloverfield) Monsters is a new adaptation of well-worn territory. What it lacks in the expected overabundance of action and explosions (it’s whole budget is probably less than a thirty second Michael Bay commercial) it more than makes up for in crafty directing and a focus on the organic performance of its actors. And when you walk away from Monsters you will have experienced that which so many of its predecessors in the monster genre aspired to but few obtained: an emotional journey.

For the most part Monsters takes place in rural Mexico. A prologue tells us that six years have passed since a NASA probe, laden with extraterrestrial samples, crashed into the countryside. In that time giant alien life-forms, akin to above water Cephalopods, have rapidly reproduced and forced a large area of Mexico to be designated as an “Infected Zone” and surrounded by an enormous wall. Though circumscribed, the giant aliens have increasingly left their designated zone and their subsequent interactions with the military have wrecked havoc on cities and caused numerous civilian deaths.  One such episode opens the film. With a visceral night vision and handheld sequence a Hum-Vee of eager soldiers find themselves suddenly confronted by one of the towering beasts; a sequence that is exemplary of the masterful use of sudden suspense and belies the seemingly arbitrary ability of the beasts to appear out of the darkness.

Our protagonists’ journey is an amalgamation of the opposite attracts love story and the sci-fi thriller. Sam (Whitney Able) is an affluent newspaper heiress who, in an attempt to escape the suggested stiffness of her life has found herself in Mexico and gets injured in the opening battle sequence. Her journalist baron father is notified and subsequently Andrew (played by budding Indie actor Scoot McNairy), the glory seeking American photographer who has come to cash in on the destruction, is pulled from his endeavor. His new mission: to escort Sam to the US border before it is closed permanently. Through ill fate and Andrew’s lack of responsibility, the two are forced to abandon the promise of safe passage and take the more treacherous route through the Infected Zone. As they travel, escorted by Mexican smugglers, Andrew’s rugged charm and Sam’s innocence begin to work their magic and the focus shifts from the monsters of the world around them to the connection between the two.

Shot guerilla style on location in Guatemala, Mexico, and in post-Hurricane ravaged Galveston, Texas, the film maintains a feeling of proximity to the protagonists.  Images are often close and handheld; larger landscape shots craftily doctored to include enormous walls and fences through terrific use of CGI in post-production (director Gareth Edwards comes from a CGI background). Gareth’s direction deftly parallels their growing fascination with each other and their fascination with their alien and devastated surroundings.  Much of the journey is a series of improvised dialogues and subtle suggestive looks that mesh organically with the lyrical images of the destruction surrounding them. Mr. Edwards successfully punctuates this journey with moments of intense suspense whenever the Monsters approach, masterfully employing sound, shadow and darkness while refraining from fully revealing the creature. The minimal amount of screen time dedicated to the creatures is not a failing on the part of the film. It slowly builds tension as the film progresses. Invariably the viewer feels that at any moment one of these behemoths could influence our protagonists’ travels.  Ultimately it does, in an enthralling spectacle of a scene, but not in the destructive manner expected.

Monsters does not purport to have the same allegories as District 9. Very little is made about the issue of illegal immigration. Rather than attempt to encapsulate the enormity of such a topic Monsters minimizes its scope of concern, choosing instead to focus on the personal story and uses the monsters as an allegory for the human relationship in the film. Like our main characters the monsters in this film are not malevolent creatures bent on human destruction but rather displaced and lost souls searching for meaning and connections in a cruel and uncaring world. These creatures are unable to navigate the world they live in and in their wandering cross paths with smugglers, the military and episodes of confused violence. Am I talking about the monsters or the main characters? It becomes impossible to say. And in that lies the beauty of the film.

                                            Sam Broadwin