War of the Worlds

Steven Spielberg's War of the Worlds (2005) has an incredible opening voiceover by Morgan Freeman (hitherto known as the voice of God) that warns of an imminent alien invasion matched on top of images of Americans and their blissfully unaware daily existence. Had the voice of God persisted through the entirety of the film rather than reverting to a narrative-driven story of an alien invasion seen through the eyes of New York father Ray Ferrier (Tom Cruise), there might have been an interesting omniscient narrative going on. Alas, Spielberg saved his experimental stylistics for Munich.

It’s certainly a better film than Independence Day (1996), not that that’s saying much. However, Independence Day is a lot more fun than this film. Attempts to add art-house flourishes to this film with the whole white ash covering Ferrier’s face, which is an obvious nod to 9/11, don’t really add anything, and I grimaced when Ray’s daughter, Rachel (Dakota Fanning) asked whether the alien attacks “were the terrorists?”

Anyway, what you’re looking at here is an enjoyable but flawed film where a father rediscovers his love for life and family in the midst of total devastation. I don’t have any problems with the third act, save for the unexpected (re: bullshit) announcement that Ray’s son was not incinerated with the military when the aliens go on the offensive, but instead made it to Boston without being killed. I cry foul when a film deserves it, and this scene deserves it. So there are lowered points because Spielberg refuses to abide by a narrative of emotional devastation (family deaths) and instead opts for a distanced devastation (peripheral deaths).

The first two minutes of War of the Worlds, as well as the last three minutes, contain the voice of God, and it would be expected that they rule. And, indeed, they do. So hard. Unfortunately, everything in between is quite average emotionally, even if it's technically superb.

War of the Worlds: 5.5/10