‘War of the Worlds’ wages a war on itself

How does a film so purposefully cynical degrade into one so corny and manipulative? The first two-thirds of Steven Spielberg’s “War of the Worlds” are a truly spectacular experience, so full of unmitigated horror and uncertainty that I was sure that it would hit every top-ten list by the end of the year, and stand alongside the director’s towering classics of decades past.

But then, “they” always said that the ending is the most important part of any story, and “they” were right: the final third of “War” stands as something so cheerfully wrongheaded, so completely contrary to what the movie had worked so hard to build up, that you will be left with such a bad taste in your mouth that you’ll barely remember why you spent so much love on it at all.

But more on that later, because the movie’s strengths are still worth mentioning. Paramount among these is the fact that “War” understands that it’s no big feat to portray a human resistance to an alien attack—”Space Invaders” did it in a few meager pixels and swallowed millions of quarters in the process. Movies like “Independence Day” continue to be tiring and unwelcome if only for the simple fact that watching humans overcoming the evil spacemen within the span of two hours has become too predictable. “War of the Worlds” acts as a marvelous surprise and antidote for that type of non-entertainment, by keeping “our” side essentially in the dark about its enemies. The title itself contains a rather cute irony in that respect: “This is no more a war than one between men and maggots,” intones the unhinged Harlan Oglivy (Tim Robbins). Indeed, in this particular invasion, the military is hopelessly overmatched against the gigantic, otherworldly “tripods,” which seem particularly sadistic: they fire electrical lasers that go out of their way to slice through individual humans, somewhat reminiscent of the Ark of the Covenant versus the Nazis in “Raiders of the Lost Ark.”

So rather than concentrate on the actual invasion, much of Spielberg’s “War of the Worlds” revolves around its effect on humanity. There’s a wide array of apocalyptic confusion on display here, as an ocean of humans claw and scrape at whatever help they can attain; it’s a fascinating study on the human condition, which can be so cutthroat in the face of peril that few would be willing to step back and contemplate the insanity. Accordingly, the actual alien attacks come few and far between, arriving like a sock to the stomach whenever any thoughts of safety cross its characters’ (or the audience’s) collective mind. In that respect, it makes the extensive special effects just enough to rattle our brains, and shake up the characters enough to make them turn on each other.

In keeping with the human aspect, the protagonist is not a military figure or other such high-placed figurehead, but Ray Ferrier (Tom Cruise), a blue-collar schmoe whose children (son Justin Chatwin, daughter Dakota Fanning) actually live with his ex-wife (Miranda Otto), but are visiting their father for the weekend. As the first aliens begin popping out of nowhere, Ray is barely able to gather up his kids and some supplies just before his neighborhood is destroyed. As the movie follows them, Ray and the kids spend most of its running time escaping from alien attacks and wandering the country in a hopeless attempt to reconnect with the rest of his family. Ray is the very definition of an Everyman, carrying those same “this could happen to us” implications that make horror films so effective. It helps prevent any of the film’s minor problems from compounding; concerns that a number of “coincidences” keep the characters plowing through the plot are dashed away when it is realized that, when faced with such a worldwide disaster, at least one family would go through a similar turn of events.

Unfortunately, as Ray traverses through events that become narrower and narrower in scope, the film is forced to turn the character into a minor action hero, tossing around grenades and generally being an inspiration to us all—not to say that normal people can’t be heroic, but after all that fleeing, it’s difficult to comprehend the sudden shift in tone. The human spirit being so indomitable, however, the shift might possible to ignore... if not for the ending, which comes straight out of Bizarro World. For the sake of spoilers, the ending won’t be outright revealed, but suffice it to say that it’s a typical Spielberg moment, a note of unbelievable cheeriness that supercedes everything. That kind of stuff works just fine for “E.T.” or “A.I.,” but after a film that’s so bitterly dark and unforgiving, it comes as a disappointment.

Surprisingly, Tom Cruise once again melds into his role, and we forget that he’s Tom Cruise—even after this whole Katie Holmes/Scientology debacle, it’s a real pleasure to see the man onscreen and acting his heart out. On the flip side of familiarity, Tim Robbins exercises some brief range, but we’ll always recognize him as Tim Robbins; however, the sheer pleasure of his presence is always welcome. Unfortunately, Dakota Fanning, one of the most effective child actresses of our time, does not fare so well. She is saddled by a script that offers her but two modes of acting: screaming at the top of her lungs, or sarcastic “out of the mouths of babes”-type dialogue.

Spielberg’s last film, 2004’s “The Terminal,” touched upon the director’s feelings about September 11, by maintaining that love and hope were still available to a post-traumatic society. “War of the Worlds” is decidedly the flipside of that Tom Hanks vehicle, intentionally keeping a brooding and paranoid perspective, leaving its characters totally unsure of what to do in a destructive crisis. But the film eventually submits to the same end-with-a-music-swell happiness, which, plain and simple, doesn’t work in this context. Spielberg’s optimism is understandable, perhaps even necessary to maintain one’s sanity in such a backwards world, but if he wanted it so badly, perhaps he should have left the schmaltz to his lightweight comedies.