Thanks! I told my kids it's a recording of my belching & cranked it. They think it's a riot...

Listen to the music that plays during this last scene. This is not intended to be a sappy, emotional, feel-good type of ending. It's an ending where the unknown, underlying dynamics of our universe meets the mundanity of our culture's traditions.

It's the same ending as Empire of the Sun and A.I. in which the change that has occurred to the main character and the experience that allowed it baffles the relationships that were established at the start. This ending is like having Jean Paul Sartre show up as a guest star on Sesame Street. This ending is like Dave Bowman's arrival at that immaculately clean and orderly room.

I thought, best Spielberg film yet, as I slipped through the herd, out of the theater.

I guess we saw different edits of the film. In the one I just saw, we are led to believe that Tom Cruise's character is sort of an everyman, normal guy, near-deadbeat dad who's lazy and unreliable -- and yet in every single instance when a judgment call or a decision has to be made, he makes exactly the right one. Whether it's giving advice on fixing cars, outwitting alien periscopes, killing another human being to keep him quiet or being the only man alive to notice the tripods' shields are down, he's the go-to guy. Even letting his son run off toward certain death turns out just fine. Hell, his greatest mistake is throwing a baseball through a window.

Production values win out over shitty screenplay once again. That's the feel-good scenario that Hollywood loves.

...and yet in every single instance when a judgment call or a decision has to be made, he makes exactly the right one. Whether it's giving advice on fixing cars, outwitting alien periscopes, killing another human being to keep him quiet or being the only man alive to notice the tripods' shields are down, he's the go-to guy. Even letting his son run off toward certain death turns out just fine. Hell, his greatest mistake is throwing a baseball through a window.

Whoa, the protagonist lives?

That's the nature of this type of traditionally-styled hero's story. But what gives it greater strength in these times is that it takes a fantastically absurd disaster to throw him out of this bureaucracy of life in order to deal these decisions, which in some cases lead to brutal and anti-social results. Still, it's a sweet kind of anarchy. Who can't associate with that?

About the son's unexpected, surprising, out-of-the-blue appearance at the end: The lingering shot of Ray is a deliberate signal that his character is just as dumbfounded as the audience. The movie KNOWS it's incredible but that's not what the focus should be unless you're obsessed with quickly identifying story logic/formulas. What's important is how bizarre this reunion is after all those events. If you've seen the end of A.I., you'll know what I'm talking about (space-time fabric, WTF!?!?!?!).

Production values win out over shitty screenplay once again.

There was a lot of keen stuff in there.

What's your reasoning for why the audience isn't shown what's being done by the military over "the hill?" Wouldn't that have been a typical Hollywood move?

That's the feel-good scenario that Hollywood loves.

There's nothing that feels good about the story. It was more like a portrait than a picturesque and colorful landscape. The film introduces a conventional, over-done, almost sitcom-like reality, douses it in pure fucking hell, then returns back to the start and pretends everything is normal again.

What feels good about the fact that all of man's efforts were futile against these vast and malignant invading force? And the film ends with this point!

---

I still can't understand everyone's gripe over the ending. Review after review...

Well, apparently every other character in the film can't associate with that, since they all seemed to completely lack Ray's abilities.



The movie spent a pretty good chunk of time setting up the EMP shocks around the world, explaining how the aliens got from space to their tripods, explaining that they must have been planning their attack forever, explaining that they're using human mulch as fertilizer. Apparently SOME story logic is important, while other bits -- such as why these aliens would travel billions of miles with less personal protection than we gave our astronauts on a trip to the moon -- are casually ignored.



If you've seen the end of Jaws and ET, you'll know it's typical Spielberg manipulative bullshit.



Every behind-the-scenes story about this film talks about how it was quickly thrown together because both Cruise and Spielberg had a tight window of opportunity. Knowing that, it's difficult to watch scenes with bright lights flashing behind a hillside and not suspect that the real reason we don't get to see anything is that "mystery" saves both time and money. Same goes for long scenes inside a moving vehicle, or a couple of basements.

Your question is specious anyway. I'm not taking issue with the movie's approach -- that of the POV of Everyman -- only its execution of such. The disappearance of Ray's son would have been more strongly felt by the audience, and more indicative of Ray's feet of clay, if it had been Ray's fault, rather than the actions of a son that he couldn't control. But God forbid Steven Spielberg and Tom Cruise give us a character who's less than perfect, even when he's supposed to be.

Note also that Ray kills Ogilvie off screen -- nothing too unpleasant for the audience, thanks. A bunch of nameless neighbors can get blown away, but when the killing is up close and personal, well, that's a little TOO scary, and not very noble of Mr. Perfect. Not that it matters anyway, because the aliens are back inside the basement in what, less than a minute of screen time?

Kind of makes you wonder what the first draft of the screenplay looked like.



I wasn't talking about the story. I was talking about using production values to patch over screenplay weaknesses. I can go back and put it in words of one syllable if that will help.



The point that the film ends with is "for neither do men live nor die in vain." Exactly the kind of tripe I'd expect to hear from a film that was "inspired" by a production window that offered the film a 4th of July opening.



Well, you're probably right and everyone else is wrong. That's the only logical conclusion.

Well, apparently every other character in the film can't associate with that, since they all seemed to completely lack Ray's abilities.

We don't really get to know any other characters before the invasions begin, so that's difficult to know.

I get your point about Mr. Perfect, but I have difficulty in balancing that with the need to accept that in conventional storytelling, the central character needs to make decisions that eventually lead to a significant change. He also needs to live and explore an environment, however threatening and bizarrely morphed it becomes. We go into these films expecting a certain degree of immunity from pace-haulting harm.

The movie spent a pretty good chunk of time setting up the EMP shocks around the world, explaining how the aliens got from space to their tripods, explaining that they must have been planning their attack forever, explaining that they're using human mulch as fertilizer.

That was great. All of it through television. Heh.

Apparently SOME story logic is important...

To tie together what's happened but from a very limited perspective, yes. And that's exactly how Robby's appearance at the end works. It's not important to know how he got there given the limited perspective of our main character. The movie KNOWS we don't need to know...

If you've seen the end of Jaws and ET, you'll know it's typical Spielberg manipulative bullshit.

I've heard this charge before but never really understood it. Care to elaborate?

Every behind-the-scenes story about this film talks about how it was quickly thrown together because both Cruise and Spielberg had a tight window of opportunity. Knowing that, it's difficult to watch scenes with bright lights flashing behind a hillside and not suspect that the real reason we don't get to see anything is that "mystery" saves both time and money. Same goes for long scenes inside a moving vehicle, or a couple of basements.

Would save on time and money, yes. But I offer you the following justification for it that has nothing to do with thrifty, low-budget thinking:

Spielberg has a WWII military/war fetish. This is seen in the various military operations in nearly all of his major films. It makes itself most apparent in 1941 and in Empire of the Sun. In the latter film, the main character must be disciplined for his overt excitement at seeing a particularly fast-flyin', bomb-loaded B-52 bomber (a "cadillac of the sky" that's referenced various times throughout) that brings immense destruction to the prison camp he's located. It's clear that there's a strong theme of immense desire for the heat and speed of war but balancing it with pacifistic restraint. The whole film is wrapped around this.

This is exactly mirrored in the hillside scene. It's an odd scene in any movie, showing the lust for war and destruction on such a scale (everyone runs toward the hillside, which is more difficult to accept). But it illustrates this idea.

The disappearance of Ray's son would have been more strongly felt by the audience, and more indicative of Ray's feet of clay, if it had been Ray's fault, rather than the actions of a son that he couldn't control.

It is Roy's fault. He's been a bad father that hasn't interacted well with his son. And because of this, he prefers the strong, solid image that the military has provided him (And a good deal of the U.S. populace).

Note also that Ray kills Ogilvie off screen -- nothing too unpleasant for the audience, thanks. A bunch of nameless neighbors can get blown away, but when the killing is up close and personal, well, that's a little TOO scary, and not very noble of Mr. Perfect. Not that it matters anyway, because the aliens are back inside the basement in what, less than a minute of screen time?

Kind of makes you wonder what the first draft of the screenplay looked like.

Are you saying it's possible that Tom Cruise could have made some image-defending changes? That would be fucked up.

That fight should have been seen.

The point that the film ends with is "for neither do men live nor die in vain." Exactly the kind of tripe I'd expect to hear from a film that was "inspired" by a production window that offered the film a 4th of July opening.

It still relieves the usually honorable human forces in these sorts of films of easily relatable responsibility. But you're right about that last line. "Don't worry, the microbes will take care of everything. Just watch."

Well, you're probably right and everyone else is wrong. That's the only logical conclusion.

Time to retreat. Thanks for helping me to refine my thoughts on the film, anyway.

Richard Dreyfuss's character is apparently killed in Jaws, only to show up at the end with no explanation. ET apparently dies, only to return to life with no explanation. It's cheap, cheesy emotional manipulation of the audience. It's like showing Butch and Sundance resting peacefully in a Bolivian hospital after the credits have rolled.



You're reaching. We don't get any hint that Robbie respects any kind of authority whatsoever until he suddenly wants to throw in with the military. You might as well say it's his stepfather's fault too.



You get a scene where Ray and his family have to give up their vehicle because others will clearly kill for it. Ray, who has fired his pistol in the air, is not ready to make that leap. But shortly afterward, after losing his son, he is willing to kill to take another man's home from him. A writer only goes to the trouble of doing this to effect a major turning point in the story -- the horrific events outside have finally driven Ray to justify a calculated, cold-blooded murder. We should have seen Ogilvie crying, fighting and bargaining for his life, and we should have seen Ray trying not to listen as he killed him. Instead the movie COMPLETELY glossed over this. Ray's need to kill Ogilvie is explored with less dramatic tension than his daughter's need to piss. Do I think that Tom Cruise of the Cruise/Wagner production company had something to do with sugarcoating this? Fuckin-a right.

Richard Dreyfuss's character is apparently killed in Jaws, only to show up at the end with no explanation. ET apparently dies, only to return to life with no explanation. It's cheap, cheesy emotional manipulation of the audience. It's like showing Butch and Sundance resting peacefully in a Bolivian hospital after the credits have rolled.

Film allows this because it's a cool medium unlike books and any type of print-material in which the act of explaining anything in high-depth from an "objective" view has its origin. Film does this so well, that I would wager heavily that the plot machinations behind these "emotional manipulations" pass right over the casual viewer (those who rarely cast a word more about a film other than whether it "sucked" or it was "good").

2001: A Space Odyssey is rife with this same sort of lack of explanation but I can't stop watching it and I know that many people out there attest to the notable quality of this film.

Whoa -- Richard Dreyfuss's character finds some reef and hides. That's solid. As for E.T.'s return, again we're dealing with a limited perspective (from a child) throughout the film AND extra-terrestrial that don't follow our rules. Plus, the film has the whole explicit christian subtext (on clear display when we see E.T. in that translucent white robe, strikin' the holy pose and uttering his advisial, "Be good.")

Good comparison.

Although the ends you arrive at belie the actual logic of the comparison. In both instances, Ray does what he does for his childrens' well-being. In situation "Psychos wants Ray's car; Ray has gun," he decides to do nothing because he knows that his kids will get caught in the (literal or figurative) crossfire. In the case of killing Ogilvie, he does it 'cause he knows that O's incessant noise-making will get them all killed. (That reason, by the way, is actually spoken onscreen, in case it might otherwise be too hard to pick up...)

As a side note, for however much the dramatic impact of Ray's killing Ogilvie is reduced by it being offscreen, it likewise provides a nice parallel between the way the audience "views" the killing, and the way Ray tries to shield his daughter from it.

The point is, you're led to believe something that turns out to be false for no better reason than to give you a feelgood feeling on your way out of the theater. Dreyfuss' character in Jaws, Hooper, died in the book. There was no reason, storywise, to bring him back. It didn't make the shark any deader, and it wasn't as though Roy Scheider's character did anything to save him.

Spielberg has a need to please the audience that often times steps all over his ability to tell a coherent story. The Terminal is another good example of this.

Ray kills another human being -- and not just anyone, but the guy who invited him into his house so that he could be safe. That's not a decision that should be made lightly in a movie that supposedly carries the message that this one does. But it doesn't seem to make any difference. That's just shoddy storytelling.

The point is, you're led to believe something that turns out to be false for no better reason than to give you a feelgood feeling on your way out of the theater.

He pulls the same stunt in The Last Crusade when the Nazi tank goes over the cliff. It works better in this style of film.

It's a cheap trick in a more realistic story but I think Spielberg redeems himself of this sort of narrative tomfoolery because this ending didn't feel joyous/celebratory, there's unsettling atonal music, the people with whom Roy arrives at in Boston are too clean in comparison with what's been thrown at us for the past hour and 40 minutes, and the lingering shot of the hug with a sustained look of disbelief convinces me that there's a self-awareness of this odd, unexpected outcome. If this scene weren't constructed as it was and instead were more upbeat and contained an orchestra in full swell, with no lingering close-up, I would've warmed up to this criticism.

But as my argument stands against the plot AND mis-en-scene of War of the Worlds. The ending is clearly neither describable as sappy nor feel-good.

--The "Watch the Skies" documentary on Turner Classic Movies airing tonight allows Spielberg to share his thoughts on early science-fiction films. His commentary on one particularly inspirational '50's movie (can't recall the title), addresses an eerie and out-of-place return to normality after a heavy dose of sci-fi craziness. Anyway, it's interesting, intelligent insight and rare because he's not revolving around any of his own films. Same goes for all the directors (Lucas, Scott, Cameron) that get the air.

I thought it was a good movie, but I liked Batman and Star Wars better. I have heard all the criticism of the ending, but seriously I kinda guessed at what was going to happen once I saw those amoeba at the beggining of the movie. Call it foreshadowing or whatever, but I guess the critics who panned the ending didn't cath the whole scene with the bacteria in the water at the first. It wasn't my favorite movie, but I'll probably buy it on dvd.

I would say most if not all of the critics have seen the original film adaption and/or know the story from the radio play. So they would have already known the ending as well.

Well if that is the case, then why do I hear critics still saying the ending sucked? I hope they weren't expecting something different than the old movie or radio broadcast.

I'm not sure, I've only read a few of their reviews, but for me, the ending was just way to quickly done. They could have spread this out a good 10-20 minutes longer, with a bit more questions and unease from the characters as to what was happening to make the aliens start behaving like they did. And it was all put together with a nice bow-tie at the end, with the family re-uniting, etc. More of the same old Hollywood crap we've all been fed over the last 20 or so years.

I didn't think it was too bad overall, but just thought it ended abrubtly, and thats what sticks in my mind the most (a week later). Not sure if the reviewers were thinking the same thing or not. I'll go read some of the reviews now.

Here is one from the Arizona Daily Star, where it was given a thumbs up, but had this to say:

"Spielberg, though proven to be one of the few filmmakers in history to have continued operating at a consistent level of excellence for three decades, just can't decide how to end his darn things anymore. The "War of the Worlds" wrap-up is a megadose of sugar-sweet contrivance that feels like being jerked out of a roller coaster midride to be dunked in a cotton-candy tank. "

another from lookingcloser.org:

"Spielberg's conclusion may be faithful to Wells’ original text, but the ending arrives so suddenly that it’s as though the project suddenly ran out of the time and money necessary for a proper finish. War of the Worlds may be meaningful for some, but for this moviegoer, it felt like watching 100 minutes of the actual apocalypse and then switching to the climax of a sappy TV movie about parenting. Personally, I found the film difficult to stomach because of that, and I don't plan to see it on the big screen again."


these are pretty much my same sentiments about the film.

For anyone who has seen the film, Minority Report, can anyone offer me an explanation as to why the three pre-cogs are living in a wooden shack, reading books at the end? Why these final images?

I'll take anything because I'm proposing that the blatant switch of raw cinematic texture that Spielberg has been employing for the endings of his films, atleast his most recent, more realistic and thoughtful ones, are deliberate and not intended to be passed off as an efficient, audience-friendly cap to a story.

Continuing my response to a charge that Spielberg has the audience "led to believe something that turns out to be false for no better reason than to give you a feelgood feeling on your way out of the theater:"

Because we respond to cinema as we do to things in real life, an effective tool for a filmmaker is to get an audience to respond in surprise and astonishment (ex:"But I thought that...") because that's a feeling we encounter often. Being outsmarted. If this neat trick is pulled, it's necessary for the filmmaker to let the audience know this isn't done merely for surprise; a kind of out-of-the-blue, satisfying resolution due to time; or an intentionally low-depth, "feel-good," everythings-going-to-be-all-right-after-all scenario. Here it's done to place a broken, disassembled human being back into the situation (identical) he was in earlier on in the film where he was more sure of himself (Ray's "I know everything" joke with Robbie aids this) and confined to a simple, easily defined role. This "neat trick" is pulled with Robbie's reappearance. But as I mentioned in an earlier post, Ray, the main character, is just as surprised and astonished as the audience is. This cinematic world has outsmarted him (and the audience) and placed him in ambiguity. Outside of the common, conventional knowledge of his own nature at the start of the film. That thar's beauty.

No thinking person (especially a professed artist/storyteller) would present a film, one as potentially largely spread and viewed as this one is, without desiring that it not fit a simple, one-dimensional mold.

Also, can someone offer me their explanation on the moment when Rachel looks out the window to see a similarly wildly dressed, older girl? What exactly is her response to that?

The scene at the end of Minority report (god I love this flick - although I didn't enjoy the main pre-cog character too much), was pretty obvious for me. These "kids" were setup with mind drugs and sedatives for almost their entire lives. Expected to pre-conceive harsh images 24x7 that were all pretty much reality (for the most part). At the end, they were MORE than happy to be able to read a good fiction novel, enjoy some beautiful scenery around their dwelling, and get out of the busy hub-bub of the futuristic city in which they lived.

Imagine a super computer geek/guru who was locked in a cage and expected to build huge nukes/hyrdo bombs for most of his adult life. All he would want to do as well is curl up with some non-reality fiction books in a small cabin in the woods, had he/she been freed.

Thats my take on the end of Minority report - which I think was well played out and worked good for the flick. I really enjoyed AI's ending as well, although some thought it was too long and drawn out.

AI's ending was great. Even though David supposedly got what he wanted, the rest of the world basically ended around him. Great shit.

Regarding Minority Report's ending, weren't they in isolation because of their precognative abilities?

And this wasn't being accomplished by having aliens invade and destroy Ray's home, not to mention nearly the entire world? Or maybe you're saying that everything up until the final scene, like dealing with an ultimate destructive alien force, was part of Ray's "common, conventional knowledge."

Your desperate attempts to explain away Spielberg's need to cheaply win the audience's approval are verging on being utterly and irredeemably full of shit. From here, your analysis of the deus ex machina ending reads as if you're claiming it works precisely because audiences have come to expect that filmmakers won't stoop to trying to pull off deus ex machina endings. There was nothing profound or inexplicable about the "ambiguity" the people behind me felt when they got up from their seats with words like "stupid" and "dumbass." You see, outside of film school, most people don't attempt to fabricate a rationale for why they don't like something.

The_Somnambulist wrote:

This cinematic world has outsmarted him (and the audience) and placed him in ambiguity. Outside of the common, conventional knowledge of his own nature at the start of the film.

Ayatollah Krispies, in response, wrote:

Or maybe you're saying that everything up until the final scene, like dealing with an ultimate destructive alien force, was part of Ray's "common, conventional knowledge."

Exactly. And it isn't until he arrives at the doorstep of those who had judged him in the past, that this profound realization occurs. Anyone would be too preoccupied with running, hiding and attempting to survive to not give a damn about how they will have changed when placed back into their typical situation. This last scene is silent and suggests introspection, not enthusiastic social reunion.

Your desperate attempts to explain away Spielberg's need to cheaply win the audience's approval are verging on being utterly and irredeemably full of shit.

If they seem desperate, I'm probably not being as articulate as I need to be. But I'm not scraping the bottom of a barrel because I've provided significant evidence to show that the ending can't be so easily pigeon-holed.

From here, your analysis of the deus ex machina ending reads as if you're claiming it works precisely because audiences have come to expect that filmmakers won't stoop to trying to pull off deus ex machina endings.

Right. It seems as if there's a bit of an interesting play on it. I certainly caught it. Besides, there's always consideration for audience expectations when deliberately creating public work.

There was nothing profound or inexplicable about the "ambiguity" the people behind me felt when they got up from their seats with words like "stupid" and "dumbass."

Screw what other people think outside of a movie discussion forum where the purpose is to think intensively about a film, not passively chide it. I needed a place to express my thoughts on a good use of film (given the absolute lack of interest in these matters among family and friends) and was curious to see if anyone would contest or accept what seems to be a differing perspective. My objective was not to have my opinion validated by the masses. Existence of things shouldn't depend on the call of a generalized herd.

I'm extremely glad you took aim, but again, the thoughts of those who are not here, actively responding, are immaterial to my purposes.

You see, outside of film school, most people don't attempt...

I hate film analysis that's detached from a standard, pedestrian understanding of things. The closest I came to utilizing anything related to a film school knowledge (I've never attended any sort of film-based institution, so I'm only assuming based on passive readings in the subject) is when I used the term mise-en-scene/raw cinematic texture. For clarification, these terms refer to the arrangement of the material, non-literal side of a film. I came to many of these conclusions through comparisons with the director's previous work which is accessible to anyone who cares to put atleast a little bit more time into an analysis of art. Knowing the popularity, power, and consistency of ideas of this particular director, I felt that the sort of scrutinization I've offered here wouldn't be too esoteric.

...to fabricate a rationale for why they don't like something.

I'm not fabricating, but uncovering the debatable rationale behind effective film artistry I love.

---

Could someone please teach me how to create quote boxes that have the "USERNAME wrote:" header? This is ridiculous.

shocking



And that, ultimately, is why you're full of shit. Art is neither created, nor experienced, in some intellectual vacuum, and a popular form such as film even less so.

Screw what other people think? Why, because only your opinion matters? Screw what you think. For all your pompous, pretentious film school bullshit (whether you attended film school or not, you're engaging in exactly the kind of masturbatory academic monologue that characterizes the term), you have yet to explain just what it is that Ray learns when his son appears alive and well. Tell me, what does he come away with? What is the message that the audience is missing, but that you're getting? What's the profound statement that, apparently, the whole film was a setup for?



Try clicking the "quote" button that's part of every single fucking post on this board. It doesn't require thinking intensively, but you might figure it out anyway.

Tell me, what does he come away with? What is the message that the audience is missing, but that you're getting? What's the profound statement that, apparently, the whole film was a setup for?

It's devastatingly non-verbal. No message. No statement. It's a simple emotional contrast that doesn't just hang onto the fact that all the main players live at the end.

Screw what other people think? Why, because only your opinion matters? Screw what you think.

I care more about individuals who I can interact with rather than accidental bunches of folk that don't talk back. I can't be alone in saying this.

For all your pompous, pretentious film school bullshit...

If you need any further clarification on anything I've said, just ask. This isn't my aim.

That's funny.

I'm curious, what films have you written and/or made? Your profile describes your occupation as filmmaking and writing.

Nothing interesting or worthy for a general public yet. Mostly community/school based sorts of things. But that'll soon change.

I can keep you updated if you want.

That's OK, I was just wondering where you were coming from.

So if I understand your argument: having Robbie show up at the end of the film is not a feelgood copout, but instead pushes the audience into the same fog of ambiguity that Ray feels, since the audience, like Ray, was convinced that Robbie was killed. Does that about sum it up?

Yes.

Ayatollah Krispies = Paragraph compactor.

if that truely was the intent, Spielburg truely missed his mark with 99% of the movie goers out there. A few sentences of profound disbelief/shock/crying could have helped played this out.

I forfeit my positions here. I should have realized this was overkill from the beginning.

The moviegoers out there... somewhere... have silenced me.

I saw it today. The visual effects were amazing. I might've liked the film itself if the main characters weren't so unlikeable. Anyway that's about all I have to say. No bitching about the ending or the aliens, just didn't like the characters.

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The editor at Roger Ebert's website, Jim Emerson, has written two interesting articles on War of the Worlds that revolve around critical and general audience perspectives on the movie.

http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/section?category=EDITOR