War Of The Worlds review

With the hype machine in full flow for Steven Spielberg's latest blockbuster, it has seemed at times that the film itself might be lost in the fascination of a star whose antics on American TV chat shows have become increasingly erratic. But, leaving the fact of whether we should start to seriously worry about one of the world's great movie stars to one side, and ignoring the usually worrying embargo on the reviews of the film until its day of release, a simple verdict on War of the Worlds is this: it's a disappointment.

From the trailers and perhaps from our own knowledge, there's plenty to look forward to. Aliens invade, try to wipe mankind out, and a few brave souls try to repel them. Sadly, we leave the main two-hour event a little punch-drunk and knowing little more. Morgan Freeman narrates an introduction that informs us the aliens are here for a purpose, although what that may be is never made entirely clear: the most we understand is that they are on Earth in order to suck our blood.

To be fair, the film does have some fine touches, but most of these occur in the first forty-five minutes. Cruise plays Ray Ferrier, a divorced Dad looking after his kids for the weekend. Needless to say his kids love their new Daddy more, so Ray has some relationship issues to work out. He concentrates on this while ignoring TV reports of strange weather phenomena until a barrage of lightning strikes turn the sky black and brings everyone into the street. Electricity is cut out, mini-earthquakes occur and cars no longer run. Unless of course you're Ray and you can get access to the only car still running in the North-East. Minor quibbles aside, this is a tense and gripping beginning and leads us to believe that Spielberg has made a third great alien movie to match Close Encounters and E.T.

But the problems soon begin and most of them are the fault of a script which is surprisingly pedestrian. Ray and his family run, and run, and as the onslaught from the aliens increases, the excitement levels wane. A couple of set-pieces do convey a sense of mass panic (although in one scene in particular it is extremely hard to understand how, in a crowd of over a thousand fleeing citizens, only two Americans would have a gun), but the film gets bogged down in relationship moments: some prompted by outrageous coincidence and some which do little to increase the tension.

This is most notable in an elongated scene towards the end with Tim Robbins' wacky Ogilvy, who harbours Ray and his daughter Rachel in his basement. As it becomes clear that Ogilvy represents as much of a danger to them as the aliens, all the buttons are pushed but none of them seem to work. Unlike the great dinosaur attack moments in Jurassic Park, most audience members will be looking at their watches rather than at the screen.

Spielberg certainly doesn't present friendly aliens here, but one of his biggest mistakes is to almost forget them completely at times. It's more Run, Tom, Run than why or how we are under attack and all of the good early work is undone, especially by a final five minutes that are glib to say the least. A major let-down.

Paul Hurley