I know what you're thinking. You know the annual summer block party extravaganza was this weekend, and you're wondering why, in lieu of telling you all the news, I'm babbling on about some movie I saw.
Well, the 1500 Norwood Block Party was a massive event, of Biblical proportions, and it's clear I won't be able capture all the splendor during my 15-minute noon-tide tostada nosh. So until I get the energy and leisure to give a truly full account, I'll entertain you with more modest musings.
To whit: Spielberg's War of the Worlds. I'm not given to watching these sorts of blockbusters, but there was nothing else on, and it was on Comcast On-Demand, so Eamon suggested we fire it up. Much to my surprise -- and despite my loathing of Tom Cruise on-screen and off- -- I found myself rather drawn in. The effects are quite dazzling, and as Eamon noted, it's rather laudable how Spielberg makes no attempt to "lighten the mood" with comedy relief. Instead, it's just a tense heaping on of scenes of dread and terror. Fun.
Until, that is, ole Steve seems to have rounded the 2-hour mark and thought, "Oops, gotta wrap this up," and subsequently substitutes any real conclusion with a strange, terse voiceover by (sigh) Morgan Freeman which rockets right over any actual narrative to sew things up in the stupidest and most pompous fashion imaginable. (And seriously, folks, can't anyone but Freeman do voiceovers anymore???)
Way to lose me in the 11th hour, Stephen. WTF?
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