Screenplay by Josh Friedman and David Koepp
Based on the Novel by H.G. Wells
Directed by Steven Spielberg
“From the moment the invaders arrived, breathed our air, ate and drank, they were doomed. They were undone, destroyed, after all of man’s weapons and devices had failed, by the tiniest creatures that God in his wisdom put upon this earth. By the toll of a billion deaths, man had earned his immunity, his right to survive among this planet’s infinite organisms. And that right is ours against all challenges. For neither do men live nor die in vain.”
I think it’s the strangest movie I’ve seen in recent years. It defies all common sense.
As far as story structure goes, it’s nothing but rising action, then more rising action…and then…it simply stops. For a supposed action movie, it’s incredibly jarring. And WHAT was the entire situation involving Tim Robbins’ insane survivor supposed to add?
Then I realized what was going on. This is not a conventional movie. Just like the original novel, War of the Worlds the movie is a parable, complete with 19th century opening and closing narration — the movie simply adds a personal, emotional journey to accompany it along the way.
Tom Cruise’s acting is variable at the best of times, but there’s a beautiful, almost insidious, depth to his character in the film. The opening narration talks about how humanity blithely goes about it selfish, self-indulgent business, and this is completely personified in the smiling, happy, life-is-good-enough-for-me protagonist, Raymond. He’s a man who lives is life as he wants, a man who knows that he’s made his bed, and he’s now sleeping in it…
Then the most terrifying aliens arrive on Earth, wreak havoc and destruction, and he spends the rest of the movie being forced to become a person he doesn’t want to be, and didn’t know he could be. There are moments where it’ss actually breathtaking watching his journey of self, and I give Cruise full marks for doing the best he can with the material.
But, in the end, this is not a movie about actors. This is a movie about images & sounds — in short, this is a Steven Spielberg movie, distilled down to its primal components.
Every shot, every action, every beat of the movie seems to be a Spielberg “greatest hits”collection, but it’s more than that. War of the Worlds is Spielberg rummaging through his tool kit, giving old tricks a fresh breath of life, while simultaneously creating the most apocalyptic world he has ever committed to film. Epic moments shock and awe, especially the revelation of the jet crash in the posh neighbourhood.
He plays with a new palate of colours in this movie: steel greys, blood reds, disturbing violets, and visceral shades of black. In fact, anything with a normal range of colours — particularly city buildings — end up being destroyed in some of the most heart-pounding sequences of the film. The opening 20 minutes is especially raw, and you can’t take your eyes of the screen for a moment as the director arranges for a city intersection & a church to be demolished in a new and surprising way. This is all mixed in with one of the best directorial tricks ever: implying what’s happening near by, as opposed to showing it outright. Offering glimpses of chaos over the ridge, or from the wide-eyed stare of a child in the backseat of a car, or through the bright lights of a basement window. This is how fear and terror are expertly built, and Spielberg can do it in his sleep.
He also plays with sound and silence in a way he’s never done before. The fog-horn blasts of the giant tripods are terrifying, and reverberate throughout the theatre, chilling you to the bone. They mix with the screams of people, the blasts of artillery…and then they stop. The theatre fills with deep and total silence…even John Williams’ usual music is absent in a strange and surreal move for a Spielberg film.
So…I’m left vaguely irritated by the story structure, yet in love with the visuals in a way I haven’t been with a movie for a long, long time. War of the Worlds is not what I was expecting, not for one moment. But in spite of the unique interpretation of the book, and it’s odd ending, I believe it was worth seeing, if only to be reminded of the rarified echelon that Steven Spielberg occupies as the ultimate visualizer of our movie fantasies.
7.5 (original rating)
8.5 (revised, second viewing rating)
