War of the worlds (2005)
It’s easy to throw the word “masterpiece” around when talking about Steven Spielberg. He’s made almost too many films that I’d put in that category. I don’t like to fall into the trap of ranking his films as this is where some of the trouble lies. Is “Jurassic Park” better than “E.T.”? Impossible to quantify. But let’s get on with the next on my film studies list: a film I do consider a masterpiece even if it’s taken years to earn that distinction.
“War of the Worlds” is a work of dual terror: alien invaders ravage the Earth with towering tripods and death rays that turn humans to dust, but the film’s true horror lies in the disintegration of humanity itself and the fragility of familial bonds amidst catastrophe. This adaptation of H.G. Wells’ seminal novel is a deeply personal film, both a visceral survival story and a reflection of Spielberg’s lifelong exploration of broken families, a theme rooted in his own childhood. It is as much psychological as it is physical, a tremendous movie that grows more resonant with time.
The story follows Ray Ferrier (Tom Cruise), a blue-collar, divorced father struggling to connect with his children, Rachel (Dakota Fanning) and Robbie (Justin Chatwin). When mysterious alien tripods erupt from beneath the Earth and begin their systematic eradication of humanity, Ray is thrust into the unlikely role of protector. His journey is not simply about outrunning the destruction, but reassembling his fractured family in the face of unimaginable horror. Spielberg has often spoken about how his parents’ divorce shaped him, and you can feel the echoes of that pain in Ray’s strained and awkward dynamic with his kids. This is a man who has been emotionally absent for much of their lives, and now, in their darkest hour, he has no choice but to step up. The apocalypse becomes a crucible for Ray’s redemption.
Spielberg’s portrayal of broken families has always been poignant… from Elliott’s longing for his absent father in “E.T.” to the estranged father/son relationships in “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” and “The Fabelmans.” But “War of the Worlds” hits differently. Perhaps it’s the immediacy of the danger, or the rawness of Cruise’s performance, but the emotional stakes feel sharper, more personal. Ray’s struggles to protect his children mirror Spielberg’s own childhood fears of abandonment and the chaos that erupted when his parents divorced. The alien invasion, with its sudden, merciless destruction, becomes a metaphor for the kind of emotional wreckage Spielberg experienced growing up: a world upturned, safety obliterated in an instant.
Visually, the film is both stunning and suffocating, thanks to Spielberg’s longtime collaborator Janusz Kamiński. The cinematography is full of textures that evoke a dreamlike nightmare. Diffusion filters and netted lenses spread light out in soft, blooming highlights, giving even the brightest moments an eerie, unnatural quality. The world feels both hyperreal and surreal, a photographic style that recalls their work on “Saving Private Ryan” and “Minority Report,” but here, it serves to emphasize the overwhelming confusion and fear gripping the characters. The bleach bypass process is used to both enhance the grain and desaturate the colors. The camera is often handheld, placing the audience directly in Ray’s shoes, heightening a sense of claustrophobia that mirrors his desperation to keep his family together.
But Spielberg doesn’t stop at the aliens. If they are terrifying, then humanity is even worse. One of the film’s most powerful statements is how quickly societal norms crumble under pressure. Desperation and fear push people to their darkest instincts, and Spielberg captures this with an unflinching eye: looting hordes smash car windows, mobs turn violent over a working vehicle, and Tim Robbins’ deranged survivalist character embodies the depths of paranoia and brutality. Robbins’ performance is chilling, a grim reminder of how human beings can devolve when the thin veneer of civilization is stripped away. Spielberg seems to suggest that in the absence of moral certainties, the only guiding light is family. It’s telling that, despite Ray's family being disconnected at the start, it is their connection, however shaky, that ultimately saves them.
As stated by many other reviewers, this film also stands as one of the boldest visual metaphors for post-9/11 anxiety in cinema. Released less than four years after the attacks on the World Trade Center, the film doesn’t shy away from evoking the imagery of that day. The ash-covered survivors wandering aimlessly, the towering clouds of dust, the visceral cruelty of sudden destruction: it’s all there, captured with a starkness that few films dared to touch at the time. Where many blockbusters avoided these parallels, Spielberg dives into them, using the alien invasion as a way to explore collective trauma. The imagery is haunting, not because it feels fantastical, but because it feels all too familiar.
And yet, for all its bleakness, Spielberg’s humanity shines through. His skill as a horror director is underrated but undeniable, and balanced by his storytelling warmth. For all the death and destruction, the film is ultimately about survival, not just physically, but emotionally. In the end, when the dust settles, it isn’t technology or ingenuity that saves the characters, it’s love, trust, and family. This may seem overly sentimental to some, but Spielberg earns it. For him, family has always been the answer, the thing that endures even when the world collapses.
Upon its release, “War of the Worlds” was overshadowed somewhat by mixed responses to its ending and doubt over its blockbuster intentions. When I first watched it, I also underestimated the film, in part because of the timing. It came out during a period in my life when I wasn’t seeing many movies and I caught it on blu-ray years after its theatrical run. But with time, the film has grown on me significantly, revealing itself as one of Spielberg’s most daring visual works. It thrives on the tension between spectacle and intimacy, delivering harrowing action set pieces alongside moments of profound human connection.
Spielberg has always been a master at capturing a sense of awe, whether it’s the wonder of encountering aliens in “E.T.” or the terror of facing them here. But “War of the Worlds” feels like his most grounded alien story, a nightmare born not just from an invasion, but from the collapse of everything we think keeps us safe. It’s a horror film, an existential drama, and a portrait of a man trying to stitch his family back together against impossible odds. And it is, unmistakably, a Spielberg masterpiece.
