Review

Review Date: 3-July-05
Spoiler Rating: Low
Juju Judgment: Juicy

War of the Worlds (2005)

I suppose H.G. Wells' "War of the Worlds" still holds some degree of product recognition, but when it comes to Steven Spielberg's new blockbuster the title makes no sense. More appropriate would be something like "Well, There Goes the World" or "The Shit Finally Hits Japan (And Everywhere Else)," because it ain't a war when one side is clueless about, and powerless against, the other. Yes, the visitors in Spielberg's latest adventure aren't musically inclined or Reese's Pieces-loving aliens, but rapacious little bastards desirous and apparently capable of taking Earth from the species that possesses it. There are no major battles in this "War;" instead, it's an on-the-ground view of how armageddon would (will?) look to the average Joe, a big-budget, family-friendly horror flick complete with screams, chills, and nonstop images of carnage and destruction. And my, oh my, it's a hell of a lot of fun.

Savvier (or sappier) viewers may tell you that "War of the Worlds" is really about one man's journey toward self-understanding, but I decided long ago not to give much consideration to Spielberg's mushier side. (Besides, "A Big Jerk Learns to Think of Someone Other Than Himself" isn't much of an alternate title.) It can't be argued, however, that the movie focuses on an immature working stiff named Ray (Tom Cruise) whose weekend with his estranged kids goes from bad to worse when a lightning storm heralds the coming of the apocalypse. (As if divorce wasn't bad enough!) After witnessing the advent of a monstrous, three-legged contraption built to annihilate the human race, Ray bundles his sweet little girl (Dakota Fanning) and angry teenage boy (Justin Chatwin) into the nearest vehicle and tries to beat it to safety. What they encounter makes them grow up pretty fast.

Ray is not what one would call an excellent father or even a good man to have in a crisis, but as he flees through New England one step ahead of marauding aliens his paternal instinct kicks in. He needs it. The first act of the film is a scintillating smorgasbord of threats, from the panic of a mob trying to hijack Ray's car to the capsizing of a ferry boat by machines emerging from the depths of the Hudson. The special effects start solid and remain so to the end, but the real thrills come from Spielberg's initial control over his subject. He delivers the most spine-tingling effect by piling one terror on top of another, expressing the futility of the situation in the passing of a flaming train or a shower of empty clothing drifting through fire-lit trees.

As "War of the Worlds" progresses it relies more on the actors to carry the plot, and this is a letdown despite its good cast. Cruise stays true to the ambiguity of Ray's character even when extinction brings out his best, and the ubiquitous Fanning — who looks and acts like she comes from Somewhere Else, too (that strange place known as Planet Hollywood) — holds her own as his leading lady and damsel in distress. It's not until the story takes a strange turn into Tim Robbins' basement that her polished innocence becomes grating and the tension of her peril is lost. From then on "War of the Worlds" feels like it's just trying to end gracefully and in traditional Spielbergian fashion, and only the latter is accomplished.

But looking back, I can't think of any other way the film might have ended, at least not with two heavy hitters and a lot of box office on the line (not to mention Wells' original material). The abrupt conclusion, I find, is a small price to pay for the finer qualities of "War of the Worlds." Add this roller coaster ride to "Mr. & Mrs. Smith" and you'll find that chaos and destruction (and, okay, personal growth) are good reasons to stay indoors this summer.

Copyright © 2005 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.