In 1938, Orson Welles frightened radio listeners with War of the Worlds, based on the 1898 novel by H. G. Wells, using the mokumentary style that he later perfected in Citizen Kane (1941). Some listeners panicked, believing that Martians had actually arrived and were triumphing over humans, though Welles hoped to arouse some concern about the Nazi juggernaut, just as Wells was lampooning “the white man’s burden” of British imperialism. The plot in which aliens invade earth with superior force has since become a film genre, with several remakes of the radio drama, including the 1953 film The War of the Worlds, a 1978 rock opera,a television series that ran from 1988-1990, and such retakes as The Thing (1951) and Independence Day(1996). Now in 2005, director Stephen Spielberg has decided to put his War of the Worlds forward as a scary film with an ending that is predictable for those who indulge the genre. Aside from superfluous special effects, the only originality is the reaction to the invasion by divorced dockworker Ray Ferrier (played by Tom Cruise) and his two kids (played by Dakota Fanning and Justin Chatwin), on loan for the weekend, in an implausible on-the-road trek from Bayonne, New Jersey, to Boston. Of course, on-the-road films constitute yet another genre, most recently in The Day After Tomorrow (2004). The road trip, however, has a subliminal message, namely that humans in crisis do not band together to respond rationally; accordingly, shock and awe prevail in scenes that recall the 9/11 clouds of debris, an atom bomb hitting Hiroshima, 1992 L.A. rioters, a sabotaged airplane crashing into a house, dead bodies floating down a Rwandan river, refugees marching along escape routes, deportation trains to Nazi camps, the sinking of the Titanic, and aimless military action without a strategic vision. Alas, director David Michael Latt promises yet another remake, entitled H.G. Wells’ War of the Worlds, later this year in case filmviewers are not satiated already with remakes of retakes. The question to ask is why Spielberg would demean himself to give the impression that he has run out of ideas when he could have been bolder, as the only possible clue of his political wisdom is the muffled line of demented redneck Harlan Ogilvy (played by Tim Robbins) that “All occupations fail.” MH