
Yet another triumph of effects over content
4 of 7 people found this review helpful.
Firstly, dismiss from your mind that this film has even the slightest relationship with H.G. Wells's original masterpiece. To be fair, it never really pretended to be, but that's no excuse for this lame effort.
The effects really are very good, I certainly have no complains on that score. Some of the best I've ever seen. If your idea of a good film is sitting watching extremely clever and spectacular computer generated effects, you are in for a treat. And the sound is probably amongst the best ever recorded in terms of quality. If you want to test the dynamics and low frequency capabilities of a high-end home cinema setup, then look no further, particularly when the tripod errupts out of the church. On a good set up, the power it generates is downright frightening. Sadly though, there's even a downside to this: like far too many films and TV series of late, the producers seem to be under the impression that it's the music and effects that are the most important thing, and they have turned the wick up to such an extent that they frequenctly drown out the dialogue. OK, so you can probably adjust the levels in the sound menu, but, why, might I gently enquire, should you have to? It's nonsensical. Then again, the dialogue and lines are so apallingly contrived it might not be such a bad thing after all.
Tom Cruise remains an excellent actor, and I have no complaints about his performance; given the utter dearth of material he had to work with he's done the best he can. The rest are carboard cutouts for the most part, and the perfomances are OK in the same way: they've nothing to do or go on, and probably make the most of the almost non-existant material, but it's difficult to be sure. There is no character development at all on the part of the script-writers, and no other points of interest. Oh, there is one poor piece of 'acting' though: Morgan Freeman's voice-over is truely apalling. You want a decent one? Richard Burton's for the 1970s Prog Rock album shows such superiority it's frankly embarassing for those of us who have heard it and cannot help but to draw the inevitable comparisons. Darker, richer, more dramatic, more threatening, certainly more haunting. Oh dear.
The story, such as it is, is cringe-inducing. Divorced man gets his angst-ridden teenage son and pre-teen daughter for a short visit while former wife goes off with new man to her parents, miles away. Cue short dysfunctional father / son / daughter bit. Martin tripods start errupting out of the ground everywhere (as they do) and causing havoc. Proverbial run away to rest of family now takes place for about an hour which gives the effects team plenty to do, given that there's no other content to worry about. Oh yes, nearly forgot: Son runs off (surprise!), evidently to Go Kill Me Some Martians, leaving Dad with Daughter (who has little to do except scream every other minute). We have a 'tense' moment in a house, a gory moment of human blood being sprayed over the fields to fertilise them, a bit more running away, then the little microbes begin to kill the Martians (the only thing this has in common with Wells's story). Wife appears alive at end, as does Son. The end. An 11 year old could write a better story than that. What was Spielberg thinking?
I can't honestly think of a good reason to own this film, except as a test disk for your home cinema. It offers little enough content for a single viewing; repeat viewings might be a good cure for insomnia though.
Review ID: 10000000001438814

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