Spielberg
has crafted one of his most horrific nightmares with War Of The Worlds,
an unrelenting disaster pic that brings the genre to a bruised post-9/11
world. With imagery taken straight from history's darkest days, the master
storyteller goes against his crowd-pleasing genes and delivers a harrowing
tale of survival as only he could. Spielberg and America's favorite crazy
man, Cruise, follow up the inspired but bloated Minority Report with a
surprisingly efficient picture that's as succinct in its running time as
it is in its scares. Made under the gun with less than a year of production
behind it, there's an energy to the 128-million-dollar film that hasn't
been found in the famed director's work for quite some time. He once again
shows his magical skills directing young actors with Fanning, whose traumatic
performance sells every bit of the frightening action, while relative newcomer
Chatwin impresses as the older brother filled with blind retribution. Most
surprising is actually Cruise himself, who's cast against the typical heroic
mold in favor of a conflicted self-centered father forced to accept his
responsibilities in the face of imminent death, which even then is questionable
considering his plan of action. With superb effects and nerve-rattling
sound design, War is filled with its share of jaw-on-the-floor awe moments,
but they simply wouldn't work as well if not presented through the narrowly
focused perspective of Cruise's character. The somewhat maligned third
act with Robbins is a perfect example of this, with Spielberg closing in
the action to a single basement, where the fear comes not from what you
see, but what you don't. In another person's hands, this could have been
a soulless exercise. War Of The Worlds stands as a strong allegory for
its time, taking its place in a summer full of movies with more on their
minds than simple popcorn entertainment.