It ain't perfect, but I loved War of the Worlds.

See, after a steady diet of disaster garbage from Emmerich, Bay and DeBont, Spielberg proved that you don't need the "givens" of disaster movies. You don't need...

a) A roomful of scientists and Clint Howard stroking their goatees, recognizing the danger, refusing to do anything untill the wild eyed and good looking maverick scientist PROVES to them what's about to happen. You fools! Don't you see!

b) A mayor, senator, president or person of authority who at first rejects the word of the egghead scientists, particularly at the behest of his Oily-as-James-Woods-type advisor. But, in a moment of crowd-pleasing clarity, Mr/Mrs Politician comes to his/her senses, and backs the Maverick Scientist.

c) A couple who, unable to save their faltering relationship through therapy, discussion or any other normal human means of communication manage to patch everything together in the face of overwhelming calamity.

d) Shots of the Parthenon/Grand Central Station/Rome/the Washington Monument/The Biggest Ball of Twine in Minnesota/ any postcard landmark getting devastated to show the scale of the event. It's the Chuck Heston on the beach shot everyone's trying to recapture here.

e) A protagonist whose armchair dabbling in chemistry, physics, biology, meteorology, and/or jet fighter piloting somehow, unexpectedly, manages to save the day.

f) A horrible, horrible love song during the end credits.

This movie had none of these, and still worked for me, and for that, I was happy.

Really, the biggest problem I had with it was the son's motivation, but given that that storyline was coming to a head when the screen was filled with tanks and helicopters, I was inclined to overlook it.

ph