War of the Worlds - Palm Beach Post movie review

Cranky family takes on aliens in solid 'War of the Worlds'

Disaster flicks, whether they involve tornadoes, shipwrecks, earthquakes, or in the case of Steven Spielberg's scary-cool new War of the Worlds, ugly interplanetary smackdown, usually focus on one plucky band of survivors who save the day, to the sound of enthusiastic cheers and an inspirational Diane Warren composition.

But while everybody's all happy they didn't die and going "Wooh!," they seem to be forgetting about someone. Make that thousands of someones — the anonymous unlucky suckers who, early in the movie, were in those Buicks and Beetles that got hurled into the San Francisco Bay when the Golden Gate Bridge snapped, or were tossed off to Topeka in that cool swirly storm that had the audience going "Wooh!"

Paramount Pictures

'War of the Worlds'

The verdict: War of the Worlds rocks!

Director: Steven Spielberg
Starring: Tom Cruise, Justin Chatwin, Dakota Fanning, Tim Robbins, Miranda Otto, David Alan Basche
Run time: 117 minutes
Release date: June 29, 2005
Rating: PG-13 for frightening sequences of sci-fi violence and disturbing images.
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Those sad souls, sacrificed to the movie gods so Ben Affleck or Harrison Ford or whoever can look like heroes, are the spiritual brethren of the folks who get vaporized but good in War of the Worlds. And even though I was more emotionally involved with Tom Cruise and kids Dakota Fanning and Justin Chatwin, as they tried to outrun the random hostile zappings, I couldn't help but think about those nameless, faceless souls who were not fortunate enough to be related to Tom Cruise.

Even though the lack of love for the zapped extras is standard in disaster movies, there's so much in the terrifically tense War of the Worlds that's fresh-ish. First off, main dude Ray Ferrier (Cruise) isn't a scientist or an asteroid-drilling oil rigger entrusted with saving the world. He's just a divorced dockworker from Queens, entrusted with taking care of kids Robbie (Chatwin) and Rachel (the always awesome Fanning) for the weekend, while their remarried mom (Miranda Otto) goes to Boston with her annoyingly well put-together new hubby.

And from the distinct lack of warmth between Ray and Robbie and Rachel, as well as the car engine on his kitchen table and the lack of non-condiment foodstuffs in his fridge, one gets the impression that the affable Ray is, well, sort of a loser.

That's a big change for Mr. Top Gun, who's usually cast as a hotshot (insert manly profession here) whose confidence is shaken by the tragic death/maiming of a close friend/other catastrophic trauma, but is redeemed by adversity and the love of a good woman, who also happens to be hot. He's been playing that guy pretty much since 1984, so it's a reminder of his acting ability that he can pull off an ordinary schlub who rises to the occasion and proves that he's not the deadbeat everyone thinks he is.

It can be hard for a familiar actor to convince you he's Joe Schmoe from Queens or Nebraska and not just an unnaturally pretty guy pretending to be normal, but even harder for Tom Cruise, the bona fide Biggest Movie Star in All Creation, to convince you that he's not just Tom Cruise slumming in a dusty jacket and an ugly house.

And you know what? I like him better schlubby, because if you can believe Tom Cruise half-heartedly tossing a baseball with the surly teen son who can't stand him because he's an unreliable idiot, then you know the man's a good actor.

Another thing that made War refreshingly different from your average "Look at the pretty alien invasion, Bob!" movie was that Robbie and Rachel don't stop being slightly annoying kids, even with the dread danger and death going on around them.

It reminds me of Cujo, where little Danny Pintauro screams a lot, but then gets bitten by the rabid doggie halfway through the movie and passes out, so his plucky mom Dee Wallace battles the beast without having to keep answering "Yes, it's rabid... Yes, 'rabid' means that if it bites you, you'll get really sick... Yes, you could die... Take a lollypop and stop foaming at me, kid. Mommy's got a St. Bernard to kill."

But in War, surly, resentful Robbie and quietly disappointed Rachel don't immediately assume that Dad's gonna go into hero mode and save the day. In fact, his track record's so spotty that they want to know where Mom is so she can fix this thing, because Dock Man's just not gonna cut it. This makes Spielberg's already massive tension even thicker, because it's hard to concentrate on avoiding the death rays with all that hostility and pouting going on.

Little Rachel, particularly, behaves like any 10-year-old would when faced with a massive alien attack and bodies floating down rivers — she screams. A lot. Even when doing so could alert the aliens to your presence in this nice, quiet basement where you're supposed to be hiding from them. Because you know that in real life, there would be more than one family to meet its untimely end because wee Bobby won't stop asking when they can go upstairs and watch SpongeBob.

Of course, the major threat in War is the alien insurgence, but it's special because it shows people battling the small stuff, like family conflict and their own schlubbiness, before they can win the war. It also helps if they're in a movie and in the vicinity of the star. But somebody's gotta be part of the death toll that spurs the star to action, right? I'd just hate to be one of them.

The Flick Chick's Bottom Line: See, I got through this whole column and didn't once mention Katie Holmes, Scientology or beating up on Brooke Shields! You're shocked, right? Me too! Oh, yeah ... War of the Worlds rocks!