War of the Worlds
July 3rd, 2005
by Maggie Solon
People scramble for exits. They flood the streets as a wave of mass hysteria crashes on the crowd. Confusion. Disillusion. Agitation. While Orson Welles has proven that the mere mention of alien invasion can cause chaos, he is not to blame…this time.
Ladies and gentlemen, we interrupt our program to bring you a special bulletin…Steven Spielberg’s “War of the Worlds” is a rapid ride on rusty rails. The ride begins with a gradual roll and suddenly lurches into a tight spiral—smooth and fast. Twists, turns, and dramatic drops relentlessly shift the audience back and forth leaving them breathless and at the edge of their seats. But, just as Spielberg climbs toward climax, the ride dips and begins a tangled tailspin, carelessly coiling as it scrambles sidetracked and screeches to a halt.
The Players:
Tim Robbins---(Olgivy)---It was nice to see Mr. Robbins reprise his role as Dave Boyle. And who can blame him? He won an academy award for the role in 2003, and that well hasn’t run dry yet. Has it? He portrays a damaged man tormented by demons: shifty eyes, a muddled Boston accent, and an obvious victim of sexual abuse…yep, it’s Boyle, Baby! To his credit, he is casually creepy and slyly sinister as he slowly tightens his grip on each scene and sets Cruise in his shadow. His unrealistic exit follows an enactment of Charles Bronson’s ‘Tunnel King.’ Keep digging, Danny!
Tom Cruise---(Ray Ferrier)---Cruise would have been an excellent choice for the deadbeat, blue-collar, ‘everyman’ except that he looks too much like Tom Cruise…a diminutive, yet powerful, A-list celebrity who is playing house with a couple of kids. Was Dreyfuss busy? To his credit, he obviously studied the “smash-zoom” shot on Chief Brody’s frantic face, and not only did he master the expression, he added a slight turn and a sideways glance. Pure genius! But, Cruise lacks what Scheider, Dreyfuss, or even Gibson would have brought to the film: vulnerability… not for lack of trying; it’s just not convincing. He also lacks a sense of frailty and inferiority that was needed to make this movie more than merely an action-adventure. There is no connection between Cruise and the audience; he is the action hero who will save the little girl. That’s it: plain and simple. And…Cruise hasn’t been believable as ‘blue-collar’ since “All the Right Moves.” A baseball cap and blue jeans just aren’t enough to counteract a clean-shaven, chiseled countenance, perfect teeth and hair, and that Cheshire cat grin. He looks like he had just jumped from the pages of GQ and was ready for his “smash-zoom” close-up. To be fair, he tried hard, and there are a few scattered moments when you forget you’re watching Tom Cruise, actor/scientologist. However, most often, one is waiting for him to pull out The Church of Scientology’s booklet “Solutions for a Dangerous Environment” to find a quick fix.
Cruise’s best moments are not when he is interacting with the larger than life space invaders, but instead when he reacts to his petite partner, Fanning. His eyes well up and slowly spill over as he tries to comfort her, but it’s simply a reflexive reaction to her heartbreaking performance.
It’s difficult to criticize Cruise who worked hard in a role that didn’t fit; he must have felt uncomfortable but believed that he was stretching enough to get some room to grow. After all, it worked with last year’s “Collateral,” but to quote his character, Ray Ferrier, “Lightening doesn’t strike twice.”
Miranda Otto---(Ray’s ex-wife)---She is soft and sweet, yet strong, and one gets the feeling that the scene between Otto and Cruise is exactly what it’s like when Kidman drops the kids off for the weekend: amicable, light and flirty but with a slight ache.
Justin Chatwin---(Ray’s son, Robbie)---Ah, Robbie, the personification of teenage angst complete with hat, hood, and an I-Pod. Robbie is the only character who achieves arc, yet it’s doubtful that anyone cares. Chatwin resembles Cruise, which is probably why he was cast, and like Cruise, there is no connection between the audience and his character. Robbie’s relationship with Ray adds some conflict and tension, but not enough to sustain the storyline.
Chatwin’s character also represents the recent phenomena of young adults eagerly (almost blindly) rushing to join the armed forces, and Ray epitomizes fearful parents who try in vain to stop them. The sudden scene in which Ray must let go of his son…literally…plays out as an advertisement for the Army, and somewhere in the Oval office, Texan eyes are smiling. But, as Robbie rushes toward a fiery field, no one seems to care. The few scenes in which Robbie shows sweetness, strength, and courage aren’t enough to flesh him out enough for the audience to wrap their arms around him. In fact, it is almost as if the audience sighs relief when he finally leaves. See ya, Kid! Good luck with all that!
Dakota Fanning---(Ray’s daughter, Rachel)---Spielberg’s New Barrymore! Fanning is a delightful, young actress who holds her own with heavyweights Cruise and Robbins. Her sophisticated acting skills do not prevent her from being childlike, and she may be the only character the audience actually cares about. She is not the movie’s conscience, but rather it’s heart. Post 9/11---The parallels cannot be avoided, but they should at least be subtle. We remember…there is no need to pick at the scab. But, Spielberg picks and picks until the audience bleeds out, a flow without feeling rendered numb by Spielberg’s sledgehammer. Cruise’s NY cap, American flags undulating in the storm, buildings collapsing, a white cloud of dust and debris…enough! …we remember. But, Spielberg takes it even further as the characters pass a collage of photographs for missing loved ones and a woman announcing a close to a blood drive---these people are still under attack, when did they find the time? It’s a lame attempt to make the audience feel something, anything, for a soulless story with hollow characters.
When Fanning’s character utters the chilling line, “Is it the terrorists?” one cannot help but shudder. The line is perfectly delivered; it sucks the air right out of the theater and fills the scene with an overwhelming sense of sadness; the audience aches as the line defines a generation of lost innocence. But, just in case it was missed, Robbie repeats the line later, however, it leaves his lips with a shallowness that is difficult to swallow. Enough!
The crashed jetliner with empty seats does touch a nerve, albeit a last never, but it is probably more interesting to conspiracy theorists who notice that there is more aircraft debris on the set of the Universal Studios lot than at the Pentagon crash site.
Morgan Freeman’s words flow like molasses over a montage of Americana:
Yet across an immense ethereal gulf, minds that are to our minds as ours are to the beasts in the jungle, intellects vast, cool and unsympathetic, regarded this earth with envious eyes and slowly and surely drew their plans against us. The images beg the question: Was it arrogance or ignorance that prevented the United States from seeing the terrorists coming? And…will future generations make the same mistakes?
Steven Spielberg---(Director)---Spielberg is indeed the master of the opening sequence: “Jaws,” “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” “Saving Private Ryan,” and this is no exception: it’s a fast paced stunner with precision shots and handheld realism. However, once the aliens arrive, the movie slowly begins a coiling descent and never quite reaches that adrenaline high again. Is the director’s heart and soul lost in the shuffle of special effects? Is he showing the audience too much? What went wrong? It’s almost as if after the first 30-40 minutes, Spielberg said, “Good enough.” At one point in the movie, an extra drops a camcorder to reveal a truly awesome angle but also a grand gaffe. The fact that it wasn’t cut seems to suggest that Spielberg was willing to sacrifice realism for the awe-inspiring shot. What else was he willing to sacrifice? The sugary-sweet (Who else saw it coming and cringed?), highly improbable Hollywood ending was too much for a movie without a pulse…the time of death called too long ago to remember. The resolution is rushed and unexplained making the reunion laughable and almost inaudible as most theatergoers are snorting, rustling, and moving mystified toward the exits. Instead of gently tugging at heartstrings, Spielberg forced the ending down the audiences’ throat resulting in one gigantic gag.
The audience, reduced to a regurgitative spasm, retches itself into the streets, and the mass hysteria begins.
Ladies and gentlemen, we interrupt our program to bring you a special bulletin…Steven Spielberg’s “War of the Worlds” is a rapid ride on rusty rails. The ride begins with a gradual roll and suddenly lurches into a tight spiral—smooth and fast. Twists, turns, and dramatic drops relentlessly shift the audience back and forth leaving them breathless and at the edge of their seats. But, just as Spielberg climbs toward climax, the ride dips and begins a tangled tailspin, carelessly coiling as it scrambles sidetracked and screeches to a halt.
The Players:
Tim Robbins---(Olgivy)---It was nice to see Mr. Robbins reprise his role as Dave Boyle. And who can blame him? He won an academy award for the role in 2003, and that well hasn’t run dry yet. Has it? He portrays a damaged man tormented by demons: shifty eyes, a muddled Boston accent, and an obvious victim of sexual abuse…yep, it’s Boyle, Baby! To his credit, he is casually creepy and slyly sinister as he slowly tightens his grip on each scene and sets Cruise in his shadow. His unrealistic exit follows an enactment of Charles Bronson’s ‘Tunnel King.’ Keep digging, Danny!
Tom Cruise---(Ray Ferrier)---Cruise would have been an excellent choice for the deadbeat, blue-collar, ‘everyman’ except that he looks too much like Tom Cruise…a diminutive, yet powerful, A-list celebrity who is playing house with a couple of kids. Was Dreyfuss busy? To his credit, he obviously studied the “smash-zoom” shot on Chief Brody’s frantic face, and not only did he master the expression, he added a slight turn and a sideways glance. Pure genius! But, Cruise lacks what Scheider, Dreyfuss, or even Gibson would have brought to the film: vulnerability… not for lack of trying; it’s just not convincing. He also lacks a sense of frailty and inferiority that was needed to make this movie more than merely an action-adventure. There is no connection between Cruise and the audience; he is the action hero who will save the little girl. That’s it: plain and simple. And…Cruise hasn’t been believable as ‘blue-collar’ since “All the Right Moves.” A baseball cap and blue jeans just aren’t enough to counteract a clean-shaven, chiseled countenance, perfect teeth and hair, and that Cheshire cat grin. He looks like he had just jumped from the pages of GQ and was ready for his “smash-zoom” close-up. To be fair, he tried hard, and there are a few scattered moments when you forget you’re watching Tom Cruise, actor/scientologist. However, most often, one is waiting for him to pull out The Church of Scientology’s booklet “Solutions for a Dangerous Environment” to find a quick fix.
Cruise’s best moments are not when he is interacting with the larger than life space invaders, but instead when he reacts to his petite partner, Fanning. His eyes well up and slowly spill over as he tries to comfort her, but it’s simply a reflexive reaction to her heartbreaking performance.
It’s difficult to criticize Cruise who worked hard in a role that didn’t fit; he must have felt uncomfortable but believed that he was stretching enough to get some room to grow. After all, it worked with last year’s “Collateral,” but to quote his character, Ray Ferrier, “Lightening doesn’t strike twice.”
Miranda Otto---(Ray’s ex-wife)---She is soft and sweet, yet strong, and one gets the feeling that the scene between Otto and Cruise is exactly what it’s like when Kidman drops the kids off for the weekend: amicable, light and flirty but with a slight ache.
Justin Chatwin---(Ray’s son, Robbie)---Ah, Robbie, the personification of teenage angst complete with hat, hood, and an I-Pod. Robbie is the only character who achieves arc, yet it’s doubtful that anyone cares. Chatwin resembles Cruise, which is probably why he was cast, and like Cruise, there is no connection between the audience and his character. Robbie’s relationship with Ray adds some conflict and tension, but not enough to sustain the storyline.
Chatwin’s character also represents the recent phenomena of young adults eagerly (almost blindly) rushing to join the armed forces, and Ray epitomizes fearful parents who try in vain to stop them. The sudden scene in which Ray must let go of his son…literally…plays out as an advertisement for the Army, and somewhere in the Oval office, Texan eyes are smiling. But, as Robbie rushes toward a fiery field, no one seems to care. The few scenes in which Robbie shows sweetness, strength, and courage aren’t enough to flesh him out enough for the audience to wrap their arms around him. In fact, it is almost as if the audience sighs relief when he finally leaves. See ya, Kid! Good luck with all that!
Dakota Fanning---(Ray’s daughter, Rachel)---Spielberg’s New Barrymore! Fanning is a delightful, young actress who holds her own with heavyweights Cruise and Robbins. Her sophisticated acting skills do not prevent her from being childlike, and she may be the only character the audience actually cares about. She is not the movie’s conscience, but rather it’s heart. Post 9/11---The parallels cannot be avoided, but they should at least be subtle. We remember…there is no need to pick at the scab. But, Spielberg picks and picks until the audience bleeds out, a flow without feeling rendered numb by Spielberg’s sledgehammer. Cruise’s NY cap, American flags undulating in the storm, buildings collapsing, a white cloud of dust and debris…enough! …we remember. But, Spielberg takes it even further as the characters pass a collage of photographs for missing loved ones and a woman announcing a close to a blood drive---these people are still under attack, when did they find the time? It’s a lame attempt to make the audience feel something, anything, for a soulless story with hollow characters.
When Fanning’s character utters the chilling line, “Is it the terrorists?” one cannot help but shudder. The line is perfectly delivered; it sucks the air right out of the theater and fills the scene with an overwhelming sense of sadness; the audience aches as the line defines a generation of lost innocence. But, just in case it was missed, Robbie repeats the line later, however, it leaves his lips with a shallowness that is difficult to swallow. Enough!
The crashed jetliner with empty seats does touch a nerve, albeit a last never, but it is probably more interesting to conspiracy theorists who notice that there is more aircraft debris on the set of the Universal Studios lot than at the Pentagon crash site.
Morgan Freeman’s words flow like molasses over a montage of Americana:
Yet across an immense ethereal gulf, minds that are to our minds as ours are to the beasts in the jungle, intellects vast, cool and unsympathetic, regarded this earth with envious eyes and slowly and surely drew their plans against us. The images beg the question: Was it arrogance or ignorance that prevented the United States from seeing the terrorists coming? And…will future generations make the same mistakes?
Steven Spielberg---(Director)---Spielberg is indeed the master of the opening sequence: “Jaws,” “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” “Saving Private Ryan,” and this is no exception: it’s a fast paced stunner with precision shots and handheld realism. However, once the aliens arrive, the movie slowly begins a coiling descent and never quite reaches that adrenaline high again. Is the director’s heart and soul lost in the shuffle of special effects? Is he showing the audience too much? What went wrong? It’s almost as if after the first 30-40 minutes, Spielberg said, “Good enough.” At one point in the movie, an extra drops a camcorder to reveal a truly awesome angle but also a grand gaffe. The fact that it wasn’t cut seems to suggest that Spielberg was willing to sacrifice realism for the awe-inspiring shot. What else was he willing to sacrifice? The sugary-sweet (Who else saw it coming and cringed?), highly improbable Hollywood ending was too much for a movie without a pulse…the time of death called too long ago to remember. The resolution is rushed and unexplained making the reunion laughable and almost inaudible as most theatergoers are snorting, rustling, and moving mystified toward the exits. Instead of gently tugging at heartstrings, Spielberg forced the ending down the audiences’ throat resulting in one gigantic gag.
The audience, reduced to a regurgitative spasm, retches itself into the streets, and the mass hysteria begins.
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