Effective, but mindless entertainment with creepy morals

Rating: 6/10 (11 July 2005)

The imagery and tone of the action sequences in this latest Spielberg offering are truly the stuff nightmares are made of. The scenes in which ten-story, three-legged killing machines stalk the countryside and appear back-lit on the horizon just when you think you've escaped truly taps something primordial in us all. The special effects in this film are some of the most artful I've ever seen. The menace is palpable and terrifying.
Beginning in New Jersey, the story chronicles the flight from Martian invaders of Tom Cruise's Ray Ferrier and family to Boston by way of march and minivan.
But from shades of 9/11 where Cruise becomes encrusted with soot (like so many emerging from the Twin Towers disaster), to the wreckage of downed jet-liners, to an indifferent media, to a holocaust-like river of bodies and wholesale hunting of humans, the story is more a showcase of what frightens Americans the most in 2005 -- at least according to Mr. Spielberg. Just as the original film adaptation of the classic H.G. Wells novel reflected a Cold War paradigm, and, as with so many sci-fi films over the years, this picture, I believe, will become a snapshot of our national mindset at the time of its release. Whilst Ferrier and family flees New York in a panic, Ferrier's daughter screams repeatedly, "Is it the terrorists?"
We meet Cruise's Ferrier on the job, hard at work moving cargo containers from ship to shore. Clearly taking his job seriously till the clock runs out, he declines his super's request for a little overtime in a flourish of working-class "not my job" palaver before peeling out in his muscle-car.
Upon arriving at home, he is greeted by his ex-wife and her new, far wealthier husband. Ferrier's children are less than impressed with Ferrier and, like so many children these days, seem wholly persuaded by the notion that respect for one's parents must be earned and not compelled. Woefully, the rest of the dramatic arc in this tale is the standard critique of the working-class slob we've seen spewing out of Hollywood from Archie Bunker to Homer Simpson. Ferrier, as anyone might expect, must transform himself from disillusioned Al Bundy to Super-Dad in the wake of Martian death-rays.
Leave it to Hollywood to make a movie about how the only way a white, blue-collar man can redeem himself to the wife who left him, the children who chide him, and society in general is by running a gauntlet of humiliation and violence to meekly relinquish his children to the care of his ex-wife, her parents, and her new rich husband. Of course, THEY are all somehow immune to humiliation and violence as is evidenced by the fact that, despite living in a major urban center, have escaped unscathed in a gorgeous Boston brownstone. You see, they're cute, rich, and responsible and everyone knows Martians only target slackers. Where, after all, would working-class men be without rich Bostonians, morally superior wives, disrespectful children, and SUV-driving second husbands to all look down their noses at him? And by the way, Tom, while you're out there redeeming yourself, could you stop off and MURDER some of the flakier, more liberal, more paranoid elements of our little superiority club? You know, the ones who make us look bad? Let's make it Tim Robbins, shall we?
*** Huge spoiler alert! ***
In a scene remarkable for its political undertones, the vocally left-wing actor Tim Robbins is offered up in sacrifice to a perceived mainstream mentality by being killed off by Cruise ( arguably a symbol of mainstream America ) in a segment many agree belongs in a different movie altogether. Robbins' character, Ogilvy, is a fear-mongering fruitcake who can't seem to grasp the gravity of the situation -- rather the way pro-war "liberals" view the pacifist hippy wing of the embattled Democratic party at the time of the film's release. Ogilvy's hysteria threatens to alert the aliens to their hiding place. So what does our sympathetic protagonist do? Tie Robbins up and gag him? No. Cruise finally decides to kill Ogilvy in Ogilvy's own home! That home into which Ogilvy had invited Ferrier and fawn and offered up as shelter from the evil aliens when everyone else was beating the Ferriers senseless and stealing their minivan. I'm sorry, but Ogilvy's murder sickened me and caused me to stop caring whether or not Ferrier and his precious, smart-mouthed little daughter got stomped into fertilizer by Martian robots. Robbins' character was a sad, pathetic figure of a man who was guilty of fear, not evil.
Yet another cultural critique from this reviewer may seem like over-thought hand-wringing and needless hair-splitting, but movies tell powerful stories on giant screens that seep into our consciousness and subtly ( sometimes not so subtly ) affect how we view the world and how we react to it. Anyone who doubts that TV and movies affect our behavior hasn't been paying attention to the amount of money advertisers spend to do just that. And anyone who thinks filmmakers don't advance social and political agendas from time to time obviously haven't seen 'The Stepford Wives,' or 'The Sullivans.' And anyone who thinks movies don't affect popular culture just isn't paying attention. And anyone who hasn't acknowledged that popular culture recreates norms for what most of us consider acceptable behavior hasn't consulted the latest edition of Merriam Webster for the definitions of either the words 'popular,' and/or 'culture.' And anyone who hasn't weighed the notion that, occasionally, what may seem like an appropriate new norm turns out to be grievous, short-sighted tom-foolery, obviously hasn't looked at the latest statistics for divorce and mental illness.
Further, there are a number of logical flaws I understand may have originated with the novel, but entirely defy rational thought.
But if the present picture is any indication, Hollywood has stopped encouraging us to think altogether.
This movie review by Erik Gloor