For all its shameless predictability (Blair Witch-like guerilla camera work, Godzilla-gouges-Gotham plotline, etc.) and characters who elicit plenty of eye-rolling, Cloverfield manages to keep you involved in the thrills and suspense. As most of you know by now, a 30-story lizard-like monster attacks Manhattan on an otherwise tranquil night, knocking down buildings 9/11-style (the filmmakers ape iconic footage of dust clouds surging through high-rise streets and past storefront windows). The story-within-a-story focuses on a tiny band of twentysomethings who—after the creature cuts short their vapid, hipster shindig—try to stay alive while performing an unlikely search and rescue operation.

Some of your kids will no doubt get a kick out of the Real World-blueprint lives of the principle characters and the high drama of their relationships; older folks who don't download Kings of Leon or have patience for annoyingly shallow banter will nevertheless put up with the aforementioned so they can take in the more intriguing half of the narrative—namely, what the angry Behemoth will do next. Despite Cloverfield's merits, footage suitable for discussion starters isn't one of them. The characters carry only a smidgen of believability—especially the camera operator, who opens his piehole way too much for being in the middle of a crisis. In the end they get in the way of what's otherwise a decent disaster flick. But be ye prepared to engage your students about Cloverfield; it made $41 million last weekend—a box office record for a January opening—and will undoubtedly become a pop-cultural touchstone for many youth (at least until Spring Break).