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The F.E.B.A.
Saturday, 26 November 2005
A Review of War of the Worlds (2005)
Mood:  spacey
Now Playing: Jeff Wayne's War of the Worlds
Topic: War of the Worlds (2005)

I am a huge fan of H. G. Wells’ classic War of the Worlds, the first and penultimate tale of an alien invasion from space. Smart, witty, and terrifying, it is a story that has never been matched by any sci-fi author…ever. In fact, War of the Worlds holds such a special place in my science fiction heart that it is one of the very few works of literature that compels me to collect every rendition ever made for any medium. For example, I own and greatly enjoy the musical play by Jeff Wayne (available on CD---I highly recommend it!). Likewise, I worship at the altar of George Pal’s 1953 cinematic interpretation, a movie that ranks amongst the finest sci-fi films ever. So, when I discovered that Steven Spielberg, America’s reigning genius of the cinema (and I don’t use that term lightly), was crafting his own version of this classic story, I was greatly excited. Unfortunately, I never did manage to see the film while it was in theaters this past summer, but I eagerly snatched it up as soon as it was released on DVD and had it spinning in my DVD-player within minutes of stepping inside my home. My verdict? Pure genius---but not perfect. Let me explain….

War of the Worlds (henceforth, WotW) is a remarkably complex film---so complex that it almost resists classification. Is this a science fiction film? A horror film? Poltergeist meets ET? Hitchcock meets Wells? The truth of the matter is that it is all of these elements, each blended masterfully by Mr. Spielberg into something that can best be described as a psychologically-harrowing cinematic experience. It is the sum-total of common bump-in-the-night creeps and funhouse frights. It is, in this regard, quite unique cinematic science fiction.

The plot of WotW is so ingrained in our culture that no real explanation of the premise is needed; suffice to say that aliens, hell-bent on the extermination of mankind, launch a surprise global attack that sweeps all before it. The original story had the aliens, Martians to be exact, landing in meteorites which also contained their mechanical killing machines. Mr. Spielberg plays with this original concept a little by positing the notion that the alien war machines had been pre-positioned below the surface of the earth some millennia before mankind arose. However, the alien operators (Spielberg offers no explanation as to the origination of the invaders) of these tripod machines arrive via massive EMP-generating (electro-magnetic pulse) lightning storms. While not faithful to the original, I found this idea to be very clever as, like the rest of the movie, it plays on a very real psychological fear. I, for one, will never look at a thunder and lightning storm the same way!

Needless to say, in the wake of the lightning storm, aliens run amok murdering all that cross their path. Into this maelstrom the movie’s main characters are thrust. Tom Cruise plays the blue-collar and somewhat irresponsible single dad Ray Ferrier. After witnessing the terrifying arrival of the first alien tripods, he rushes home to retrieve his teenage son, played by Justin Chatwin, and young daughter as portrayed by the always superb Dakota Fanning. The trio quickly find themselves swept along with untold thousands of other refugees from the alien onslaught, thrust into life-or-death situations that would have been unimaginable a mere handful of hours earlier in their pre-invasion humdrum lives. The resulting trek to perceived safety, from New Jersey to Boston, Massachusetts, is as exhausting for the viewer as it is for our protagonists. Much like Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan, you do not watch this film as much as participate in it!

At this point, I need to pay special respect to Mr. Cruise. Even though he is quickly becoming the self-righteous thespian all the world loves to hate, Mr. Cruise’s performance is absolutely brilliant. His “flawed everyman” portrayal is dead-on, serving to humanize events that are often portrayed with the clinical coldness of epic-history (in this case, pseudo-history). To watch Mr. Cruise is to empathize with him as he battles both aliens and his fellow humans in his desperate struggle for the survival of himself and his family. I honestly believe that Mr. Cruise may have given one of his finest performances ever in WotW. Well done. Mr. Spielberg also deserves a pat on the back for, at long last, bringing some depth of character to a science fiction flick. In a genre often littered with protagonists that are little more than two dimensional heroes, WotW brings the fantastic down to the level of ordinary humanity, allowing an all-to-rare breath of fresh air into the oft stale environment of sci-fi. Again, well done!

WotW also defies the genre in other ways. This film could have easily been yet another vehicle for mindless special effects and action sequences. Mr. Spielberg defies the trend by deliberately taking his film down a very different road, a path more in keeping with Orson Wells’ War of the Worlds Halloween radio broadcast of 1938. Instead of a big budget light show, we get a very frightening movie that plays out in the deep recesses of our minds. WotW is very Hitchcockian in nature, at times more akin to Psycho than Independence Day. The movie dwells not on fireballs and big battles, but on the horrific nature of being hunted by aliens and their machines. Spielberg carefully culls events from the original literary story to craft scenes that are almost as suspenseful and downright dreadful for the audience as they are for the characters. Not content to stop there, Spielberg also taps, very subtly, into our contemporary fears by using our disturbing memories of 9-11 to punctuate key moments of the film. These clever techniques, combined with the perfect musical score of John Williams (again, also very Hitchcockian), combine to make a film that resembles Poltergeist (also by Spielberg) more so than it does any previous telling of Wells’ tale. In many ways, Spielberg gave us a movie more in tribute to Orson Wells radio play than in acknowledgment of the actual novella! Perhaps this is why the bulk of the film takes place in New Jersey?

I have few criticisms of the film, and those that I do have are more matters of preference than an actual disapproval. For example, as a purist, I do prefer Martians and their meteorites to unnamed aliens and their bolts of lightning. To me, there is nothing more properly sci-fi in nature than an invasion begun by a meteorite storm from Mars (as well as being plausibly realistic). However, I do understand how an atmospheric event is better in keeping with Spielberg’s psychology of the film which desires to bring the fantastic down to a more believable scale (especially in our climatologically-sensitive times).

I also would have preferred more scenes of outright battle between the aliens and the armed forces. Again, I understand how Spielberg wanted to keep the film pointedly focused on the intimate plight of ordinary citizens just trying to survive another few hours. However, what is the point of imagining an alien invasion if not to provide at least one grand battle? After all, even H. G. Wells included such scenes in his novella (the battle of the Thunder Child comes to mind). Alas, Spielberg forgoes anything but fleeting glimpses of combat to maintain his tightly focused narrative. As such, the aliens always seem to be more of a shadowy threat just over the next hill than an actual, tangible enemy force. Disappointing, but only minimally so.

Likewise, he also deliberately contrives to limit the perception of the invasion to a very local affair and not of the global nature as portrayed in George Pal’s version or in the more recent Independence Day. As such, the film often seems artificially circumscribed and more like a personal tragedy than the potential last hours of all mankind. Again, disappointing but not fatally so.

I am somewhat stunned that in a movie which is notably faithful to the original, there in no mention of the poison gas of the Martians. As the film clearly taps into contemporary fears of terrorism, I would have thought that the “WMD” of poison gas, as possessed by the literary aliens, would have been a natural inclusion. Alas, this was not so and its absence was surprising. Again, more a preference than a criticism.

So, what does this all add up to? Is Steven Spielberg’s War of the Worlds the ultimate cinematic version we fans have been awaiting since the release of its dim-witted sibling Independence Day? Alas, no. Mr. Spielberg’s interpretation is truly excellent, as well as innovative, but George Pal’s 1953 version still reigns supreme as it maintains the best balance of end-of-the-world calamity versus personal horror. Nonetheless, Mr. Spielberg’s film is a fitting tribute to this classic tale as well as a worthy addition to our shared science fiction cinematic heritage. By combining two disparate genres, sci-fi and horror, WotW becomes something very original and worth watching. I give it 8 out of 10 deathrays.

Posted by Wargamer Scott at 9:21 PM EST
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