WAR OF THE WORLDS: Spielberg’s Sci-Fi Apocalypse

Whenever a film’s story begins with the total destruction of the world we know, I am reminded of the question of what the next step might be, what more can the screenwriters come up with to make the story more engaging, further involve the audience, and, on top of that, end it with a happy ending. Is it even possible for any narrative that begins with an apocalypse to end happily? It seems that yes, but only under the condition that the film begins where it should have ended. Because is it easy to imagine a happy ending when we find ourselves in a situation where our poor planet is engulfed in chaos after an attack from an alien race of unknown, cosmic origin, we are in the midst of the events, people are dying around us, and this is just the beginning? War of the Worlds

This is exactly the situation Ray Ferrier (Tom Cruise) and his children (Dakota Fanning and Justin Chatwin) find themselves in in Steven Spielberg’s new film War of the Worlds. This is probably the only way to tell the story of an apocalypse without resorting to the documentary formula – to frame it through the lens of an individual’s drama. Maintaining this perspective allows us to delve into the impact of the situation on real life without resorting to theoretical abstractions or pseudoscientific considerations about herd behavior. Many times and with varying degrees of success, craftsmen and artists as different as M. Night Shyamalan in the not entirely successful Signs, or, with much better results, Roman Polanski in The Pianist, have tried this.

Spielberg himself, though experienced in the industry, has never excelled at psychological portraits, although we cannot deny him brilliant moments in A.I. or Saving Private Ryan. However, if one expects an analysis of the psychological nuances of the situation in which the characters in War of the Worlds find themselves, one might be sorely disappointed. Tom Cruise is a megastar and a top-tier actor, but his performance is rather lukewarm, although it’s really not bad. The thing is, the role was not exactly written for a major creation.

A divorced and carefree man, an irresponsible father with no money or future, whose situation forces him to temporarily take care of his children. Like many of Spielberg’s films, this one is also subordinated to a certain leading didactic-moral scheme. Here, it is the development – the evolution of the father – from selfishness to self-sacrifice. Ferrier, forced to act to save the lives of his loved ones, learns responsibility for those who can only rely on him. Like everything in a good story, this evolution also has its limits, or rather its climax. Not wanting to reveal one of the crucial plot elements, I will leave it unsaid, allowing everyone to discover it on their own and take responsibility for that discovery.

Also left unspoken is Spielberg’s often irritating tendency toward intrusive didacticism, but it is still worth asking how convincingly the director and screenwriters Josh Friedman and David Koepp “sell” the transformation of the protagonist to the audience. While Cruise’s acting performance is flawless, though not spectacular, the “coincidences” in the script that lead to each climax may raise some doubts, such as the one in which the father is forced to choose between his son and daughter. The credibility of such a situation, the somewhat too literal depiction of the protagonist’s “tearing apart,” and especially, to put it gently, the unclear motivation behind the son’s actions, leave much to be desired, calling into question the sensibility and logical coherence of such a device.

Spielberg’s attempt to create an atmosphere of entrapment and the awakening of the “human beast” in a panicked crowd, where moral boundaries cease to matter and social conventions break down, certainly failed. Using a few rather tired “tricks,” he barely skims the essence of what human hysteria and unpredictability are in such circumstances, which is surprising since he demonstrated his familiarity with such themes in Schindler’s List. A separate, but by no means unimportant issue, is the portrayal of the Aliens. Undoubtedly, the strength of this thread lies in the lack of an attempt to explain what drives their actions. We know little about them, their goals, and motivations, beyond the fact that one element of the whole is the merciless extermination of humankind, leading to… Well, exactly what? It’s not really clear, and that’s exactly how it should remain.

This approach adds strength to the thread, giving the alien invasion a character of divine providence, something unknown: chance, punishment, penance, or occasional sacrifice. The aggressors remain an impersonal force, devoid of any motivations, feelings, or morality that could be logically explained. This device leaves more room to focus on the main character and does not distract attention from what is important. It intensifies fear and entrapment because it doesn’t explain anything, doesn’t justify anything – it simply acts. A mistake in this context, though justified by the plot, seems to be showing the alien character itself, which diminishes its “divine” element, preparing the viewer with a warning about its physical corporeality, up to the final act of the presentation.

War of the Worlds unquestionably remains excellent entertainment cinema, unfortunately burdened with the moralizing zeal of Steven Spielberg, who, in his fervor, sometimes forgets about the intelligence of the viewer. This is not the “crusading” moralizing of Oliver Stone, yet it has once again slightly, but still noticeably, interfered with the reception of his films. The adaptation of H.G. Wells in his interpretation will not give you goosebumps nor mass hysteria, as once happened outside the movie screen with Orson Welles’ performance, but at least each of us will have the chance to find out how happily the Apocalypse can end.