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It's about our obsession with instantaneous media, it's about love and sacrifice, it's about the culture of fear gripping society, but mainly it's about getting the hell away from a bloody big monster.

'Cloverfield' is the 'Godzilla' for the YouTube generation, where everybody has a camera phone; where shaky, grainy footage of Saddam's execution appears online within minutes; where over 37 million people have watched a home movie clip of a baby laughing.

One of those people might very well have been Hudd, an average 20-something New Yorker tasked with filming his best friend Rob's farewell party. It's a typical bash — beers, snacks, balloons, people shouting "surprise!", passed out chicks, whispers about the guest of honour and his longtime friend Beth. But before the drinks run out and the interpersonal drama can make things really uncomfortable, the city is hit by an earthquake. Except earthquakes aren’t usually associated with giant explosions in the distance. Or the Statue of Liberty's head rolling down the street, coming to a stop outside the corner quickie mart.

As the city descends into darkness — and chaos — Rob and three friends try to make their way to safety, Hudd filming their every move. "We can't just tell people about this," he says from behind the camera, "they'll want to see it."

And see it we certainly do. Perhaps not with the polished cinematography and slick editing we've come to expect from Hollywood blockbusters, but with the disaster shown through the lens of a (seemingly indestructible) handycam, everything is right in your face. The panic, the confusion, the immediacy, the reality; all are heightened by the jarring movements of a camera that never quite catches all the action. None of those conventional over-the-shoulder shots to warn us danger is lurking. No dramatic music. We're just as lost and overwhelmed as the kids running for their lives. It's what 'The Blair Witch Project' was trying to do…

The sense of disorientation is only heightened by a screenplay devoid of the usual monster movie conventions: the scientist who understands the being; the military leader who figures out its weakness; the president who offers the words of reassurance. Here nobody knows what the hell is going on.

An allegory for terror attacks — some material is disturbingly reminiscent of 9/11 bystander footage — or just a modern take on an age-old genre — what could be more 21st century than people filming the Statue of Liberty's disembodied head with their phones — 'Cloverfield' is breathless, engrossing and entertaining. It's what all movies should be.