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JUST ASK SPIELBERG!
Reading on the "War of the Worlds" EXCITO-meter:
1 out of a Possible 5 EXCITO-points
"Ian, just because I'm Jewish doesn't mean I'm going to the new Steven Spielberg picture."
"That makes no sense. You're not even Jewish."
"I could be if I really wanted to. Maybe I am."
"Murray James, you're not Jewish."
"How would you even know?"
"Just because you have a big nose doesn't mean you're Jewish."
"Are you a racist, Ian Stapp?"
"Do you have a big nose, Murray James Morrison?"
"I'm still not going to the stupid movie."
"Fine."
Reading on the "War of the Worlds" EXCITO-meter:
2 out of a Possible 5 EXCITO-points
Dear Steven Spielberg,
Why must you insist on making bad film after bad film? Ok, I take that back. Why must you insist on ruining feasibly great film after feasibly great film? Despite the tremendous promise latent in the first acts of all your movies, you still manage to take a major motion-picture dump on each and every finale. You're the exact opposite of your crony George Lucas, who refuses to show us the ending we want to see. You repeatedly show us the ending no one wants to see! What's with that? Look at me when I'm talking to you!
Case in point — A.I. I'll give you this, Spielberg: your ability to create a convincing, absorbing universe is unparalleled. This film completely sucked me in, until it just completely sucked. When Haley Joel Osment saw all those other Davids and threw himself in the ocean, I was so touched I couldn't even move. I sat in the movie theatre crying. But then you tacked on thirty minutes of vacant sentimentalism and uninspired CGI, and my arm fell off. I rushed to the hospital, but it was so underfunded the doctor-in-residence had to reattach my limb with some Alzheimer patient's crochet needle. It hurt so bad my other arm fell off and he had to crochet that one back on too. Thanks a lot.
Your best movie to date is Jurassic Park, because there's something intrinsically awesome about dinosaurs eating people. It's worth seeing just to watch an overweight man, a lawyer, some Australian guy, and Samuel Jackson become Jurassic Dinner. But what's with the kitchen scene? Two velociraptors and two children in a room with pots, pans, and convection ovens — a recipe for success (or a recipe for Lex and Tim au Gratin, depending on how you look at it). Spielberg, those kids were annoying, but they would have been a lot less annoying in a casserole. Was this somehow lost on you? Why did you let the children escape? The scene had Oscar potential!
You, Steven Spielberg, are a filmmaker of Hindenburgian or Titanic proportions. Ecstatic expection leads inexorably to crippling disappointment. Big technology, nervous anticipation, then profound disenchantment, inconsolable grief. Do you see where I am going with this? I may be a Jew, but I will not see War of the Worlds. Frankly, I don't know what kind of half-wit would.
Reading on the "War of the Worlds" EXCITO-meter:
3 out of a Possible 5 EXCITO-points
I turn on the TV. Tom Cruise is on Oprah. But something is not right. Oh my goodness, he's not breathing. Tom Cruise isn't breathing! Paramedics rush the stage, and Oprah cuts to commercial.
Commercial break is over. Tom is feeling much better. I guess he opened his mouth to speak and choked on a dozen long stem roses he bought for Katie Holmes that just happened to be lodged in his throat. Oprah asks, "Tom, are you ok?" He nods. "All right then, tell me about your new movie."
"War of the Worlds? Well, it was originally going to be called War of the World's Hunger. You see, Oprah, Steven Spielberg is filthy rich, but he's also a philanthropist. His deep humanitarian concerns motivated him to make a film about the less fortunate, starving peoples who are usually so carefully hidden from the uneasy eyes of American suburbia. During post-production, Steven actually solved world hunger, but then someone went ahead and got hungry again, and that was the end of that."
"Really?"
"No, Oprah, I'm kidding. Steven is a visionary and would never make a film that royally retarded. The actual War of the Worlds will be more like... AAAAAGGHHHH!"
Tom doubles-over in pain, falling off his Oprah-sized couch. Once more, paramedics rush the stage. Cue the commercials. What is going on here? Later, I discover Tom passed a kidney stone in the shape of an engraved million dollar pendant necklace. That man has problems.
Reading on the "War of the Worlds" EXCITO-meter:
4 out of a Possible 5 EXCITO-points
I turn on the TV. Steven Spielberg has called a press conference and is finishing his speech. "Yes, I know how you feel," he says, "and I'm sorry. Americans are a forgiving people. I hope you, the good men and women of the United States of America, can forgive me for the cinematic atrocities committed under my name.
"I hope also that you will forget your misgivings concerning my new movie. In War of the Worlds, I've corrected my previous failings as a director. Contrary to popular belief, the ending will not consist of aliens and humans joining hands in a large circle and singing Kumbaya. No longer will the experience of watching a Spielberg film be similar to the feeling that one is being wrapped in a warm embrace first, in tinfoil second, and thrown into a microwave third. This time will be different. Thank you."
The press conference is over. What is he talking about? Will things really be different this time around? Did Spielberg finally make a great film, the one I've been waiting for?
Reading on the "War of the Worlds" EXCITO-meter:
5 out of a Possible 5 EXCITO-points
Dear Murray James Morrison,
Your letter affected me more than you know. I ask that you accept my sincerest apologies for the shoddiness that has plagued my previous attempts at filmmaking. You are, of course, completely correct in your analysis of all my work.
Ian Stapp tells me you have a big nose. Please Murray James, don't let this stop you from seeing my movie. He also tells me you're hopelessly un-Jewish, big nose notwithstanding. Don't be discouraged. Movie theatres can't keep out the Zionically-challenged; there are laws preventing that sort of thing. Do you drink tea, Murray James? If you do, then I implore you: see War of the Worlds. It is your cup of tea.
Reading on the "War of the Worlds" EXCITO-meter:
6 out of a Possible 5 EXCITO-points
My favorite scene from "War of the Worlds"
I can say without hesitation that War of the Worlds is the most successful exercise in film ever produced. It is furthermore an outstanding and poignant commentary on the human condition. In Spielberg's warring world, humans are throrougly edible. They can be eaten slowly by dinosaurs more inclined to snack or nibble on their food, or in one ravenous gulp by giant carnivores determined to make a meal out of as much of humanity as possible. Running, screaming, and use of cellphones do nothing to protect our frail species from its savage Jurassic predators. Even a bracchiosaurus takes a break from folliage to feast on human skull.
How does it end? After a breathtaking scene involving half of Asia Minor being trampled by a herd of stegosauruses, a female Tyrannosaurus rex takes a boat ride to San Diego. She ramsacks the city and eats all the surfers. Then Govenor Schwarzenegger comes and punches the T-rex in the face. Eventually he gets eaten too, because dinosaurs kill things for a living, and Schwarzenegger still has to go to party fundraisers and banquets and stuff.
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