Finally, a screenplay faithful to: I, Robot.

Rating: 1/10 (28 May 2006)

I remember coming out of the cinema in 1953. My sister and I, aping the sounds of the death-rays that fried the poor, fleeing humans and pitiful military attempts to blow away these unbelievable, indefatigable and seemingly indestructible mechanical monsters from who the hell knows where.
The futile efforts of this lame race of humans finally being vindicated by no less that an act of divine providence left even a six-year-old cinema goer pondering the ramifications of Gods effects upon science fiction authors.
The futile efforts of Mr. Spielberg to have any resemblance or significance to Mr. Orson Wells' original radio broadcast of 1938 or the modest cinematic realization of Mr. Pal, let alone the intent of Mr. H.G. Wells, has truly achieved a desire on my and my sisters part to issue death-rays upon his next project.
If there is a sequel similarity, it must, at best, be, the Poseidon Ferry.
Poo.