5 outta 5

I’m convinced Steven Spielberg has a great horror movie inside of him once per decade.  Think about it: Jaws in the 70s. Temple of Doom in the 80s.  Jurassic Park in the 90s.  And now War of the Worlds in the 2000’s (I’m not saying “naughts” dammit! It sounds stupid.)   Once every 10 years Spielberg just lets go with all his craft to scare the hell out of the audience.  Even if he’s “slumming it”, he’s still a visual genius.  War of the Worlds is an excellent example of filmmaking craft by a master.  H.G. Welles’ tale of alien invasion behind gets an added jolt of realism by Spielberg, and makes War of the Worlds one of the darkest, and most effective, Spielberg movies in a long while. 

While the story may be updated to a modern time, the isolated and desperate tone of the original story about one man alone in a sea of madness is steadfastly preserved.  It’s even given a little extra oomph by having the main character, Ray Farrier (Tom Cruise), as a father who also has to look after his children amid all the alien ass kickin’.  For those wondering, no, Tom Cruise’s recent bout of P.R./ tabloid insanity does not affect his performance. He seems more human in War of the Worlds than he has on TV for months.   His kids, Rachel (Dakota Fanning) and Robbie (Justin Chatwin) are nice counterpoints to Ray.  They don’t really respect him, but they’re stuck with him so they have to just deal with it. 

This may be one complaint about the movie: where’s the almighty “character arcs”?  I say, “Feh!”  There is some development with Cruise and his kids, and its nicely and briefly sketched throughout the movie. This is done more by actions instead of words.  That’s a good thing because, if the world was coming to an end by attacking aliens, would you sit around and talk about all those deep down buried feelings from the past?  No way, you’d run like hell!

Aside from the main trio, every other human in the movie is just fodder for the alien menace. This isn’t meant in a desensitized, uncaring way – you feel each and every person who bites it.  The people, and by extension the audience, are all tiny little ants caught helplessly in the destruction.  Ironically, one of the film’s best scenes does not involve a single alien.  Instead, it just preys on the feelings of mob mentality and the ugly side of human nature.  Check out the shot of the guy clawing his way through the windshield of a car – that’s a nightmarish image of people driven insane by life or death circumstances.

The main “face” of the alien invasion are hundred feet tall Tripods – alien machines with angular heads, creepy glowing lights and three legs.  The Tripod’s design and weaponry is a callback to the original H.G. Welles novel, and the alien nature of them makes for a thoroughly creepy villain.  When a Tripod appears on the horizon, a jolt of terror goes through both the characters and the audience.  The way Spielberg uses FX shots in the movie helps a lot – he shoots it low to the ground from the character’s perspective to give a sense of scope and realism. 

The effectiveness of the Tripods as baddies is set up perfectly when the first one appears.  This is, for my money, one of the most successful tension building scenes of the year.  It happens in such a gradual manner that a slow feeling of menace creeps up the viewer’s spine.  When the Tripod is unleashed you feel each and every hit.   There is an excellent unbroken tracking shot of Cruise running down the street as destruction reigns all around him.   That one scene is probably worth the ticket price alone.

There is a lot of dark humour in the movie, lurking around the edge of all the mass carnage.  The blink-and-you’ll-miss-it final fate of someone who refuses to go along with Ray, barely glimpsed in a rearview mirror, unknowing of what is happening.  Another quick funny joke involves a railroad crossing and an unexpected train departure.  Then there’s a scene when a church breaks in half due to alien influence.  It’s as if the aliens are laughing at the tiny humans, saying, “Muha-ha-ha, your puny God can’t help you now!” 

As for the ending: it’s surprisingly faithful to the book.  People may jaw on about how it’s totally implausible, but at least it’s done in a more gradual manner than Signs.   Another nod to the ending of the novel is a random character pops up unexpectedly at the end.  One could complain that Spielberg is needlessly jerking the audience around for an emotional relation, however, the movie is so intense and dark we need the pressure valve release at the end. Before you start complaining about it, remember, its not Spielberg’s fault, its H.G. Welles.

The thing about that drives War of the Worlds is how Spielberg works the camera. He can set mood easily, using imagery and feelings from 9/11 throughout the movie, and his ability to pull off set pieces is above anyone. War a very visceral and visual experience involving Spielberg setting up sequences and knocking them down. And it definitely benefits from a big ass honkin’ screen with an eardrum busting loud sound system.

This isn’t an argument you can’t make with many other FX movies.  Say, Van Helsing, which is just an overblown turd.  Spielberg is in a class of his own.  He’s able to pull off big fantastical ideas in an up-close and personal way. There is a multitude of brief, amazing shots and moments throughout.  You feel it, gripped in your seat for the duration.  You don’t watch War of the Worlds; you survive it.