PG-13 intended for mature, nostalgic viewing audiences only
This movie made me wish I were older, so that I could be wishing I were younger.
Remember what it was like to be a kid in 1982? The carefree summers, the innocent mischief? Riding bikes through suburbia, fishing in ponds, throwing rocks at woolly mammoths? Spending lots of time outside, because indoors hadn’t been invented yet? Back when boys where boys, and girls were mysterious, and E.T. and Star Wars were the greatest thing since sliced bread – which was a pretty recent breakthrough itself?
No, neither do I, because like everyone else on the internet, I was born way after 1982. But Super 8’s nostalgia is so intoxicating that while I was watching, I wished I were just 10 years older, so I could be wishing I were 20 years younger.