Family, war and citizenship in Spielberg
Incredibly for a designed to “take no prisoners” type of summer blockbuster, War of the Worlds transcends genre and typically mediocre intentions of such a film. Beneath its stupendous staging of action sequences and the state of the art I.L.M. extravaganza, War of the Worlds is the most clearly family concerned film Mr. Spielberg has ever designed.
Retaining the first person narrative of the H.G. Wells book, War of the Worlds is a film that deviates decisively from the typical imagery of a disaster flick (no monuments destroyed here, Mr. Emmerich...) focusing solely (but it’s enough, trust me) on what the protagonist experiences. At the same time it is Mr. Spielberg’s preoccupation to analyze the dynamics of a problematic nuclear family before an insurmountable enemy. The father at the beginning is obnoxiously arrogant and complacent (Mr. Cruise at his brat pack best) in being irresponsible and uncaring towards his children. They, in turn, obviously prefer their (wealthier) stepfather and never miss an opportunity to hit back at their father’s inadequacies.
Then war breaks out. The father now has to earn his parental credentials. What is of unique interest is what these credentials are according to the director. Mr. Spielberg masterfully builds the atmosphere of terror, an environment where post 9/11 shock and awe is “returned to sender”. American audiences must have felt quite uncomfortable watching such a vivid depiction of innocents being evaporated and (in one of the unforgettable images of the film) an army of homeless people walking aimlessly to nowhere. No, this can’t be mindless summer entertainment; this is an austere political statement coming from the pope of Hollywoodland.
It goes further.
When Mr. Robbins’ character appears, sardonically playing a right-wing soldier of the American character, the protagonist is presented with a two-fold duty: To protect his loved one from the paranoia of “getting even” with a clearly superior enemy and decide on what kind of citizen he wants to be. Complacency must now give its place to a realization of responsibility both human and existential. Gradually, the smirk is wiped off Mr. Cruise’s face, for the first time in his breathtaking career of mega-stardom he becomes the absolutely terrified one of us. (Bless both actor/director for their choice of material. This is one great instance of casting that reinforces the thematic concept of a film.) Big part of that is his decision to run for his and his daughter’s life (a similar theme is explored, albeit in a more Hitchcockian manner, in the previous collaboration of the two, Minority Report) even if this decision reduces him as a man in his son’s eyes. By the end, in a sequence fairly reminiscent of The Searchers finale, mission is accomplished. And even though blockbusting rules cannot be overthrown – no one dies, all right – an almost unbearably traumatic tone just won’t let go.
Steven Spielberg taught (mostly American) audiences a lesson here, his finger coyly never pointing to anything but delightful I.L.M. choreographed madness. By showing what it means to be mercilessly attacked “from above”, he attacked the new conservatism and exposed a version of citizenship that is not only beyond imbecility: It’s beyond viability.
Retaining the first person narrative of the H.G. Wells book, War of the Worlds is a film that deviates decisively from the typical imagery of a disaster flick (no monuments destroyed here, Mr. Emmerich...) focusing solely (but it’s enough, trust me) on what the protagonist experiences. At the same time it is Mr. Spielberg’s preoccupation to analyze the dynamics of a problematic nuclear family before an insurmountable enemy. The father at the beginning is obnoxiously arrogant and complacent (Mr. Cruise at his brat pack best) in being irresponsible and uncaring towards his children. They, in turn, obviously prefer their (wealthier) stepfather and never miss an opportunity to hit back at their father’s inadequacies.
Then war breaks out. The father now has to earn his parental credentials. What is of unique interest is what these credentials are according to the director. Mr. Spielberg masterfully builds the atmosphere of terror, an environment where post 9/11 shock and awe is “returned to sender”. American audiences must have felt quite uncomfortable watching such a vivid depiction of innocents being evaporated and (in one of the unforgettable images of the film) an army of homeless people walking aimlessly to nowhere. No, this can’t be mindless summer entertainment; this is an austere political statement coming from the pope of Hollywoodland.
It goes further.
When Mr. Robbins’ character appears, sardonically playing a right-wing soldier of the American character, the protagonist is presented with a two-fold duty: To protect his loved one from the paranoia of “getting even” with a clearly superior enemy and decide on what kind of citizen he wants to be. Complacency must now give its place to a realization of responsibility both human and existential. Gradually, the smirk is wiped off Mr. Cruise’s face, for the first time in his breathtaking career of mega-stardom he becomes the absolutely terrified one of us. (Bless both actor/director for their choice of material. This is one great instance of casting that reinforces the thematic concept of a film.) Big part of that is his decision to run for his and his daughter’s life (a similar theme is explored, albeit in a more Hitchcockian manner, in the previous collaboration of the two, Minority Report) even if this decision reduces him as a man in his son’s eyes. By the end, in a sequence fairly reminiscent of The Searchers finale, mission is accomplished. And even though blockbusting rules cannot be overthrown – no one dies, all right – an almost unbearably traumatic tone just won’t let go.
Steven Spielberg taught (mostly American) audiences a lesson here, his finger coyly never pointing to anything but delightful I.L.M. choreographed madness. By showing what it means to be mercilessly attacked “from above”, he attacked the new conservatism and exposed a version of citizenship that is not only beyond imbecility: It’s beyond viability.
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