Steven Spielberg. Tom Cruise. Dakota Fanning.
Star Power.
Okay, so Tom's one filament short of a lightbulb, but that doesn't mean you don't expect big things from those three names.
Look. Spielberg's the man. Saving Private Ryan, Schindler's List, Amistad and Minority Report give him the leeway to make the gigantic crapola that was AI. He spun his wheels for a while with the relatively quiet and competent efforts in The Terminal and Catch Me If You Can (at least as quiet as films headlined by Hanks and DiCaprio can be).
Dakota's a kid, so I'll assume she listens to her handlers so she can be absolved.
War of the Worlds is a huge letdown. Not just because we were expecting a huge fight between US and THEM. Not just because we wanted to see MEN spank the MARTIANS. It was because we were looking for a sci-fi spectacular, and what we got was a half-baked family drama from a guy that really shouldn't be doing a family drama. (Jerry Maguire was clearly a fluke, or it was all Cameron Crowe.) My reaction at the end was: What. The. Fuck. You climax is James Earl Jones telling you we won.
Unacceptable.
Bottom Line: You'd better have a big one next time out Mr. Spielberg, because this one didn't cut it. If you miss it, you didn't miss much.
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