War of the Worlds is not a war of the worlds at all. As one critic wrote, it’s more like the “annihilation” of ours. Large, loud, and like lords of doom, dozens of alien giant tripods blast human beings that come their way to dust, if not suck their blood and spew it back in coagulated, rootlike form.

Based on the 1898 novel by H.G. Wells, Steven Spielberg’s latest opus begins with deadbeat dockworker Ray Ferrier (Tom Cruise) coming home from work. His ex-wife (Miranda Otto) is dropping off their children, Rachel (Dakota Fanning) and Robbie (Justin Chatwin) to his house for their weekend visit. No later than the passing of a brief-but-terrible "lightning storm" do this father-and-children trio find themselves amid the bloodthirsty tripods and run for their lives.

The film is, in a way, double layered: it is the tale of one family weaving loose threads of love once destroyed by divorce…with an overwhelmingly vivid backdrop that is chaos and fear. A peculiar gloom grips us as father and children try to cope with each other’s lives, while we hold back emotions as bitter memories terrorist attacks avalanche out of the screen. The dust-covered people, with dread etched in every face, and buildings exploding and collapsing – all this reminds us of horrible things too much.

Indeed, the aliens here are metaphors of the all-too-real perpetrators of evil around the world today. Here Spielberg finds an avenue to present civilians’ eye view (one of them a child) on violence and terrorism. Indeed, demons strike when you least expect them, unleashing terror, breaking families, claiming lives. But perhaps the most disturbing thing we see here (as in all terror-stricken places) is that of children’s exposure to brutality. There is this scene when nine-year-old Rachel has to pee outdoors, but before she can even find a place away from her dad’s sight, she sees dead bodies floating on the river in front of her. First there is only one, and then there is a crowd, driven by the river’s current. She cries, and I can only wonder the mess of blood and corpses in her innocent mind. Ray, however, comes in time to cover Rachel’s eyes from seeing more.

Despite the strong message that terror can strike anytime anywhere and that love sometimes resurfaces in times of great adversity, there is nothing else in the story to give more depth to it. For example, I haven’t read H.G. Well’s novel, but do those alien invaders really come here just for the sheer purpose of killing humans? Nothing but the fact that they’re here and they’re Earthling-haters is told about the enemies. Those giant killing machines are supposed to have been buried beneath the earth for many years now – but why attack just now? What happened when they were buried? Again, why kill humans at all?

And our topic now is terrorism all over again. I am beginning to think that Spielberg is the average terrorist victim’s man through and through (apologies to Minister Scrimgeour). Why bother asking those questions when who’s being alluded to in the film are the terrorists – heartless, blood-loving, hateful terrorists? They enjoy the sheer act of murder, period. Never mind the whys or the hows, what’s important is that they killed and are spreading panic and horror everywhere. For me, that seems to be the case of Spielberg’s War.

Okay. Forget about digging deep into the film’s ideologies. The actors are superb. Tom Cruise does a good job being Ray. Chatwin also fares well being the brave-and-lucky Robby. Tim Robbins and Miranda Otto (Eowyn!) are okay, too. But it is Dakota Fanning who does take center stage and the limelight, what with such excellent acting and charming personality; she’ll become one of Hollywood’s bests, I’m sure. What’s more, she sort of looks like my little sister, thus making me pity her Rachel persona even more.

The special effects? It’s probably the most immediate thing anyone would appreciate in this movie. Awesome, jaw-dropping, amazing, what more can I say? It is Doomsday inside the theater. There isn’t much chopped-off limbs thrown everywhere, though; just a sea of coagulated blood that looks like thick juicy red roots.

To be brief, The War of the Worlds is a good edge-of-your-seat flick despite the ending that doesn’t seem to wrap it all up. Certainly this isn’t Spielberg’s best nor is it Cruise’s, but it’s one awesome cinematic roller coaster ride…with giant tripods everywhere, of course.

IT’S A B!