SUPER 8 (Abrams, 2011, C) - The trouble with imitating (slash paying homage to) another director is that you run the risk of inheriting their flaws as well as their strengths. Abrams has Spielberg’s nostalgia-for-childhood down pat, as well as his skill for building up tension traditionally but effectively. However, he also uses some of Spielberg’s crutches: constantly showing children in danger (without anything bad ever happening to them), a reliance on saccharine happy endings no matter how implausible, and overly literal metaphors. The only truly Abrams-like touch he adds are the incessant lens flares, which are the cinematic equivalent of those irritating marquees on old web sites or elaborate slide transitions in PowerPoint: something that might look cool to beginners, but that you really should get over ASAP.
Still, like with Spielberg, most of these objections didn’t bother me too much while watching. More than anything, Abrams’ mentor was a gifted teller of compelling stories, and Abrams doesn’t do so badly himself. I was thrilled, I was moved, I laughed (the Cary kid is a hoot), and I couldn’t help but like Albrams’ clear affection for movies, or more precisely, movie making. I can see him standing there, putting together the train crash scene, and going “that’s so cool!”. Sure, maybe the movie goes a bit far in positing an innocent child’s soul as a universal solution. I know it’s been accused of exploiting nostalgia, but more than anything, that nostalgia felt genuine to me - and it feels petty, then, to be overly critical.
