War Torn

The Steven Spielberg version of War of the Worlds opens next Wednesday, and I, unlike millions of Americans, have no interest in seeing it. How can that be? Conventional wisdom asserts that it will be a blockbuster. Steven Spielberg. Tom Cruise. Science fiction. What's not to love?

Steven Spielberg. Tom Cruise. Science fiction. If you recall, the last time these three elements joined forces, they produced Minority Report, one of the most ludicrous science fiction epics in recent memory. After A.I., that is. But I get ahead of myself.

First things first. My disinterest in this movie has nothing to do with the George Pal version of 1953. Granted, Hollywood is once again showing its lack of imagination by providing a summer of reruns (Willy Wonka, Dukes of Hazzard, The Longest Yard). And I have a soft spot in my heart for the original film version. But that has more to do with who I was when I saw it than its inherent merits. It's been years since I've seen the film, and imagine it may be the worse for wear. (Though I must say that even today, the George Pal Time Machine is far superior to the 2002 Guy Pearce/Jeremy "Anything for a Buck" Irons version.)

An adaptation is an adaptation. At the heart of adaptation is re-imagining a piece for your own time. Welles (Orson, that is) adapted the novel in 1938, there was a TV series in 1988, and two other films versions (one British, one straight to video starring C. Thomas Howell – yikes) are on the horizon. Graphic novel fans may be interested to learn that Dark Horse comics has just started a serialized adaptation on their online site. Though one version may be superior to another, being first doesn't necessarily mean you're best. (Heck, The Wizard of Oz was adapted for the screen four times before the 1939 version.) While the George Pal version is a "classic" in its own right, it isn't untouchable in the way such films as Casablanca or Gone With the Wind (also adaptations) seem to be.

Nor am I avoiding the movie because of Tom Cruise. Although that's certainly a good reason to do so. Cruise's recent exploits prove the maxim that actors are like children (not cattle, Hitch): they should be see in their movies and neither seen nor heard in real life. You either know what Tom Cruise has been up to lately or you don't care. I don't care – I don't watch Oprah or Access Hollywood, I don't read the tabloids or celebrity weeklies – but I still know. There's his latest Scientology rant, saying people should fight depression with vitamins instead of therapy and medication, there's the whole Katie Holmes debacle, there are the lawsuits – the latest against a British comic who squirted water in his face and who Tom had arrested for assault. In a way, his WotW role is perfectly suited to Cruise: he plays a divorced father who thinks of no one but himself. But whereas his onscreen alter ego has an alien invasion to teach him the meaning of life, Cruise remains unharnessed.

That little bit of synopsis may give you a hint of why this movie gives me the willies. Yep, it's Spielberg! Here's a guy who, in making a movie about aliens attacking the planet, decides the interesting story is about a guy learning to become a good father. The sci-fi flicks of the 1950s always featured a damsel in distress. Spielberg sticks with the tradition, but makes her 10 years old. I can understand the philosophy that says that an alien invasion is too large a story to tell, and that in order to have a human connection, you should focus on one man and his endangered family. I saw that movie. It's called Signs.

Not so fast, Grasshopper. In an interview at the WotW site, Spielberg tells us that the movie is really about the refugee experience. In making this film, he tells us, he looked to the Eastern European experience. Because although after 9/11, Americans know what it's liked to be attacked (Pearl Harbor taught us nothing!), they've never been refugees. In this film, the characters have that experience. So it's Schindler's List. With aliens instead of Nazis. And no list. I am put in mind of what Jon Stewart recently said of those who compare others to Hitler: "It demeans them. It demeans you. And it demeans Hitler."

In truth, it matters little what this movie is "really" about. A movie can be about anything. My personal prejudice is against a giant bug movie that's really about fathers and children, but I enjoyed Signs. My concern about this flick is that it will be "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." Which makes Steven Spielberg the idiot telling the tale.

*****

Yes, I'm the guy who doesn't like Steven Spielberg. You knew I was out there. Most of my friends already know this about me. The truth is, I believe most of you don't like Steven Spielberg either. At least not his movies.

It's hard to have your dislike for Spielberg taken seriously. Especially if you're me, a known anti-populist. (Odd, for someone so into popular culture.) Folks assume you're taking this opinion just because he's popular. And successful.

Not the case. Nor have I always felt this contempt for Steven Spielberg. Jaws? Terrific. Funny, suspenseful, scary. "You're gonna need a bigger boat." Raiders of the Lost Ark? As perfect a movie as you get. Close Encounters of the Third Kind? Wonderful. Smart, well-paced, nicely structured, good payoff. Until the Special Edition came along, and tossed the ending down the toilet. Also, nearly 30 years old.

Since Duel brought him popular attention in 1971, Steven Spielberg has directed 23 major films (not including War of the Worlds). I've liked 7. I doubt you've liked many more. The first four – Duel and the other three mentioned above – came within a 10 year period. Very encouraging. The other films of that period are The Sugarland Express, which I haven't seen and will believe is good if you convince me, and 1941, which I have and won't.

1982 saw the release of the movie that brought about my split with the American public: E.T. Lord, I hated that movie. I know you loved it, especially if you saw it when you were a kid, but I was bored and just a wee bit nauseous. There are a handful of decent laughs (Drew Barrymore finds E.T. in the closet, everybody screams), but I found the basic premise of "Alien scientist becomes family pet" a little humiliating. You demean yourself and you demean the dog.

Even if you liked E.T. (I know, it's your favorite move ever), 1983 ushered in a ten year run of irredeemable trash:

Twilight Zone: The Movie. Spielberg directs the segment where the old folks become kids. Sentimental, nothing happens.

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Kate Capshaw + Short Round = Crap.

The Color Purple. Also known as The Colored People. Walt Disney presents rape and incest. All you need to know about this movie is its advertising tagline: "It's about life. It's about love. It's about us." Are ya feeling nauseous yet? Everyone bitches about how this movie was overlooked at the Oscars (11 nominations, no wins). All I will concede is that the movie that won Best Picture that year, Out of Africa, is just as horrible.

Empire of the Sun. Didn't see this, but heard it was good. If nothing else, it introduced us to Christian Bale.

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. One good line: "He chose poorly." Not as bad as the Kate Capshaw movie, for what it's worth. Sean Connery is wasted. I recently watched all three movies again on DVD, and the last two are as bad as you remember.

Always. You didn't even see this movie, did you? I did. In a movie theater. Horrible. This is a remake of a 1940's war film, and Brad Johnson, who plays the love interest, makes Van Johnson, in the original, look good. It's that bad.

Hook. This movie makes you hate Peter Pan.

Jurassic Park, 1993. It's 10 years since E.T. and people are wondering if Spielberg is ever going to make a good movie again. That is, if they're honest with themselves and admit to being bored and/or offended by The Color Purple (I bet you didn't even see that movie, and yet you defend it) and HATING the Indiana Jones sequels. So here comes Jurassic Park, and you know what it shows us? Spielberg loves special effects and doesn't give a squat about telling a decent story. The book is a potboiler, bit fascinating in that Michael Crichton Popular Science way. Spielberg turns the villain into a cuddly grandfather, tosses in a couple of suspenseful scenes, and mostly hangs out with the special effects guys. (Frankly, this is what I'm expecting from War of the Worlds.) Wasted opportunity. Sure, the dinos looked great and the raptors were cool and the scene in the kitchen is scary. Anything else? My secret shame is that I actually kind of liked the sequel, The Lost World. (#5 if you're counting.) Sure, it's basically the same movie, but with a T-Rex running around in Los Angeles and eating dogs. Much better.

And this brings us to Schindler's List, the movie that worked. Why? Hard to say. I mean, Spielberg isn't a complete hack – he's no George Lucas – and he has made good movies in the (distant) past. Here, he's blessed with great source material (Thomas Keneally's book), a linear plot, a great cast and a natural hate of Nazis. It probably helps that he's got a new cinematographer who actually cares about story. Sure, he still has to throw in the little girl in the red coat (what is this, Don't Look Now?), but by and large it's straightforward. It's too serious to be sentimental, and that's a huge help. The sixth Spielberg film I enjoy.

Then comes Amistad. You didn't see this movie. When Hotel Rwanda came out last year, I was a little afraid to see it. I thought it would be "good for me," providing some much needed historical perspective on series of events with which I should be more familiar. I was not expecting it to be enjoyable. I was astonished by the life in the movie, the wonderful performances, the emotional depth. Amistad is the movie I was afraid Hotel Rwanda would be. It's a movie only a liberal could love.

Saving Private Ryan. This is the other movie that everyone but me likes. Tell me: do you remember anything after the first 20 minutes? The movie opens with the invasion of Normandy, and it's a stunner. Things are blowing up, people are running around and dying, no one – including the audience – knows what's going on. Very effective, very chilling. This seems to be what the rest of War of the Worlds is going to be – hand held camera, mass confusion, alien invasion is no fun. Apparently, two of the Ryan boys are killed during the invasion – I didn't remember that from the movie, but read it on IMDb – so off Tom Hanks and his cannon fodder go to rescue Matt Damon. And then … ? I remember nothing. One scene about Tom Hanks' hands shaking. A really sappy ending. (Par for the Spielberg.) This movie made no impression on me.

Then come Spielberg's most recent forays into science fiction, and if these don't scare you off War of the Worlds, nothing will. AI: Artificial Intelligence and Minority Report. AI is like 1941: the less said the better. This movie didn't have to be as horrible as it was. Inside its bloated 145 minutes is a 90 minute movie struggling to come out. But in order to work, it needed a director who had a greater contempt for people. Someone like Stanley Kubrick, who originally developed the material. Spielberg tries to find someone to root for, and you know what? There isn't anyone.

Minority Report is a mess from beginning to end. Full of plot holes, laughable ending (I literally laughed. Out loud. In the movie theater.), two good scenes. The first is the scene with Lois Smith, the scientist who tells Tom Cruise about the minority report. She knows she's in a stinker, and she plays the scene completely over the top. The other is the scene with Samantha Morton, when they're on the run and she uses her precog abilities to tell him what to do ("grab an umbrella") to avoid detection. The rest of the movie is just The Fugitive dressed in some fancy sci-fi duds. Or dowdy, since it's all shot through some blue filter that's supposed to make it seem … I don't know what. The only bright spot is seeing the death of Mike Binder, the guy responsible for HBO's The Mind of the Married Man.

After Ryan, Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks had a little romance and made two more movies together. One of them I liked. Not The Terminal. In every interview about The Terminal, you know what Spielberg talked about? The set. It shows. No, I kind of liked Catch Me If You Can. It's a complete trifle, and Tom Hanks does an accent that's based on no human language ever spoken, but that's okay. This is the last of the Steven Spielberg movies I like.

So that's my 7. Even if I give you E.T. and Saving Private Ryan, we're still only up to 9 out of 23. Just over 1 out of 3. 4 in the past 20 years. And that includes Catch Me If You Can and The Lost World, which I will bet are not on your list of favorite Spielberg films. If you struggle, maybe you can up your list to an even dozen. Half of his output. I guess that's acceptable. But not enough to earn my trust.