By casting Tom Cruise as the lead in War of the Worlds, Steven Spielberg has shoehorned himself into something of a dilemma. If he remains faithful to HG Wells's classic sci-fi novel, then Ray Ferrier (Cruise) is reduced to simply running away from the invincible alien machines; if he changes the story to allow Ray influence events and help stop the invasion - and a mainstream audience expects no less of a superstar hero - he shoots the story's big twist in the foot. Thus we get a two-pronged story: the alien invaders get on with marmalising the planet unmolested, while an unusually helpless Cruise does his best to ensure his kids (Chatwin and Fanning) stay out of harm's way. Personally, I could have done with a lot less Cruise and a lot more of the spectacular devastation wreaked by the marauding tripods; in terms of sheer spectacle, War of the Worlds is an adrenaline-charged rollercoaster ride when Spielberg does let the machines off the leash, and there is at least one incredibly haunting scene of bleak devastation that could be chopped out, framed and hung in a gallery. On the downside, the plot is riddled with holes, Dakota Fanning is intensely irritating as the precocious daughter, and Spielberg appears far more interested in self-referencing (ET and Close Encounters, obviously, but Jurassic Park also gets a nod) and proving himself profound than he is in constructing a cohesive narrative. Time and again we are treated to shots of Cruise framed in windows (some cracked and broken) and mirrors, and it's obvious we're being instructed to view Ray as if through the microscope the aliens used to inspect humans before the invasion began. Here is our flawed Everyman, Spielberg seems to be saying, the human hero reduced to a timeless, elemental state, that of helpless but stoic endurance in the face of impossible odds. It's a brave attempt at subverting the usual he-man excesses of the conventional summer blockbuster, an attempt bolstered by the inevitable question, "Is it the terrorists?", all of which suggests that Spielberg is trying to hint at how the invasion of Iraq by a technologically invincible army might have appeared from the perspective of Iraqi civilians. But casting Cruise - the people's choice as All-American go-getter - negates the impact. The laughable hero-moment Cruise's contract no doubt demanded sets in motion a sentimental final reel which, in harking back to classic outcast-hero moments from Shane, High Noon and The Searchers, seems risible in the context of what has gone before.
