Time has not been kind to Byron Haskin’s sci-fi alien invasion classic, The War of the Worlds. As humanity has gotten further and further from the Cold War, we are now able to view the film for what it truly is: A piece of American propaganda at its moralistic worst. Today, the work is only commendable due to its Oscar-winning special effects by Gordon Jennings, which catapulted the craft forward, advancing it exponentially as its influence is still being felt today.
H. G. Well’s classic is brought to present day California after a meteor crashes in the small California town of Linda Rosa. Initially, the residents of the town are enthralled until they realize the meteor is actually a Martian spaceship which hosts less than hospitable life forms.
Yes, The War of the Worlds is a sci-fi classic and a groundbreaking work in special effects. However, when viewed as a metaphor for the Red Scare, it is no wonder that American hostilities toward the Russian superpower were so adamant. Though meant to rally anti-Communist sentiment, the work’s only worthwhile value is that it now serves as a signpost of the country’s ironically fascist, fundamentalist attitudes during the period.
When the meteor first lands, the community gathers at the spectacle as they deliberate upon how to turn the sight into a tourist attraction and the best manner in which to make a quick buck. However, once the people of Linda Rosa realize that the meteor is a spacecraft housing alien life, we are issued a pedantic portrait of understanding in the most blatant figurehead imaginable, Pastor Matthew Collins (Lewis Martin, Ace in the Hole, The Man Who Knew Too Much). Of course, as he attempts to approach the UFO, Collins is obliterated without pause. An offensive, poorly disguised as its converse, ensues for the remainder of film. Just before the film’s climax, just to ensure that the audience is aware of the political parable being presented (atop the fact that cities throughout the world, excluding those in Russia, are under attack), all hope is lost when we drop the atom bomb on the Martians. As Americans, our worst fears are confirmed in that the bomb has no effect.
Aside from the propagandistic tone of the film, a huge non sequitur reigns at the film’s climax (which I will explore considering the film’s notorious, well-known finale). The voiceover informs us, “The Martians had no resistance to the bacteria in our atmosphere to which we have long since become immune. Once they had breathed our air, germs, which no longer affect us, began to kill them. [ . . . ] After all that men could do had failed, the Martians were destroyed and humanity was saved by the littlest things, which God, in His wisdom, had put upon this Earth.” Aside from the double-edged confirmation of validating evil on behalf of a benevolent entity (an alibi for our violent treatment of non-Christian peoples, i.e. the “atheistic pinkos”), we have the demise of a superior life form due to its failure to account for microorganisms prior to landing on a foreign planet.
I suppose, if scrutinized closely enough, we are to walk away with the notion that the only manner in which to rid ourselves of the Commies is biological germ warfare. In light of the introduction, which spans the history of human violence up to World War II, some could argue that the Martians were merely attempting to help out considering humanity’s track record and regard for its own well being.
Perhaps predictably, the shallowness of the film’s message mirrors the production as a whole. The characters are stock, the dialogue wooden, the subplot romance between Doctor Clayton Forrester (Gene Barry) and Sylvia Van Buren (Ann Robinson, Imitation of Life) ineffectual, the religiosity (which was not included in Well’s novel) didactic, and our interest in the players completely arbitrary outside the happenstance quality of likewise being American.
I would be interested in how the film would have been approached and presented by either of its initial directors, Cecil B. DeMille and Alfred Hitchcock (though I am pretty sure the latter would have given scant consideration to the project). Nevertheless, we are unfortunately bound to what is as opposed to what might have been. Yet, Byron Haskin’s cinematic diatribe serves us well as a piece of work which, hopefully, we will never have to return or see the consequences of ever again.
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