I wanna start this review with a sort of morbid thought that occurred to me while watching this movie. Much has been said of the Spielberg influence here: there are elements of films he directed and produced here, and he himself is in the producer’s chair. What this knowledge sort of spoils for me is not knowing how much additional influence Spielberg exercised onset. Super 8 is a movie that has been talked about (at least it seems so) for many years now. The morbid thought that occurred to me is, how much better if this movie – like Stanley Kubrick’s Artificial Intelligence, ultimately made by Spielberg – had languished in development hell that much longer and only been rushed into production in the event of its inspiration’s passing? (hopefully, I stress, many years from now…) There is even a strong underlying message in the movie about letting go of the departed – profoundly if heavy-handedly (but that’s how I like my emotion) illustrated in the very last scene. Anyway, as I said, just a thought that occurred to me.

I never know how vague or full I’m going to be about plot details when I start writing a review so I should warn now, there may be spoilers. I was lucky enough to avoid just about any details about this movie before seeing it and I’m glad I did, so I’d strongly advise not reading any reviews, mine included, until you’ve seen it. If you need a short review: trust me, it’s worth seeing.

At its heart, as already mentioned, this movie exists as a nostalgic trip. As such, its biggest star is arguably its production design, which to my eye seemed flawless, even dizzying in places as I grew up in the time (if not the place) the story takes place. I always used to say when it came to period movies that I preferred the older ones, in particular those of the 1970s, as they always seemed to have a hazy look to them that added to the experience; as time moved on film production techniques got too clean and slick leading to inappropriately clean and slick historical visions. We’re fortunate today to have moved past this hurdle and – as seems to have been done here – digital technology in addition to increased access to reference materials (and, in this case of course, a more recent past) can be used to give the film the appropriate look …to the degree where really only prior knowledge of the actors and the quality of the visual effects give any hint at all that the movie wasn’t made in the late 70s or early 1980s. I spent at least the first half hour just smiling at how much it truly felt like a movie from my childhood that I’d somehow missed – the kids, of whom only Elle Fanning was I sure I’d enjoy watching, are without exception wonderful.

If I recall correctly, one of the massive things related to this movie I successfully avoided prior to seeing it was the train crash scene, most of which I believe was released on the internet a while ago. This might seem like a great triumph of the will for a self-professed movie fan but consider that I still rarely listen to singles, even from my most favourite artists, preferring to wait to hear them in the context of the full album they appear on. I’m strange that way.

Anyway, the train crash is as phenomenal as I’d heard. It’s a long time since an action sequence has made me physically gasp the way this one did.

There was, I won’t deny, a short period somewhere in the middle act where the movie slightly lost my rapt attention – perhaps, now I think about it, when the modern visual effects broke the otherwise authentic feel of the movie (notwithstanding the crash, I guess) – and I feared the movie would struggle to pull me back to the transfixed state it got me in initially. Luckily, the movie has two enormous, connected emotionally punches up its sleeve – one scene featuring Elle Fanning (who, I’ll say again, continues to completely walk all over her older sister making far more interesting choices than any Dakota has made in years) and a revelation about the tension between her father and the father of the young protagonist in front of a super-8 projection of his home movies; and the climax, so beautifully resolving this tension, which is threaded throughout and reflected in the overarching universal plot (“Bad things happen: but you can still live…”), it simply knocked me down emotionally. Truly, that moment – the “letting go” is all I’ll say – is as simple and powerful as anything in Spielberg’s old classics. This movie utterly achieves what it sets out to do, and then some.

Stick around in the end credits for a wonderful treat, by the way; I hope there’s more of that when the movie hits blu-ray.