I join the Church of Scientologya lapsed Calvinist movie review with three points

No, of course I wouldn't join the "Church" of Scientology; not unless they could prove that L. Ron Hubbard wasn't a looped-out megalomaniac and actually knew the mind of God. Even then, I'd still have some questions.
Okay, I swear, I do actually know how to read. In fact, I read several good books this week. But, for some reason, and it may be the fact that I am extremely biased towards being an auditory learner, movies turn my gears a little faster. So that's what I write about on my blog--shoot, I'm being defensive.
John and I went to see Πολεμος των Κοσμων. I have three major points, due to my Calvinist upbringing, that I'd like to share.

It's "dark"

This is an adjective used way too frequently to describe movies, books, or other media. The phrase, "X is much darker than the previous X," has been used to describe Harry Potter, Star Wars, War of the Worlds, Martha Stewart's new show, and George W. Bush. However, what do people mean when they say this? I think they mean that a certain work of literature deals with realities, emotions, and people who strike us as being somehow unpleasant or distasteful.
Now, this is a symbol of the dualism which pervades our modern culture, a movie is either "dark," which automatically gives it artistic credit, or "light" which means it is designed to win popular approval. This dichotomy is comforting to us--see Melinda and Melinda.
In fact, a parent at my school was able to keep his child from reading Night by Elie Wiesel because of a complaint that the literature that we teach is too "dark." Well, this is the thing, when you truly attempt to sift the good from the bad in our culture, you must be able to recognize the bad. It wasn't just the tree of the knowledge of good--Adam and Eve already had that. It was the knowledge of good AND evil. Anyways, I generally tend to discount this description of a movie, and I often find that my enjoyment of the movie is improved thereby.

It's "apocalyptic"

Of course, we move straight from dualism into apocalypticism. However, when you think about it, it makes perfect sense. In Viking Mythology, there is no one "good" god that fights against one "bad" god, therefore in Valhalla, after hacking away at each other all day, the warriors rise from where they fall to go to the mead hall to celebrate the daytime's glorious conquest. In Egyptian mythology, although the Pharaoh is represented by Horus, the good guy, every Pharaoh has a name corresponding to both Horus and Seth, the bad guy. In fact, it is the Pharaoh's responsibility to maintain ma'at which is translatable as "truth," "justice," "harmony," or "balance."
Now, let's throw monotheism into the picture. When Akhenaten introduced this concept to Egypt for approximately 15 years, it was the first of many "cultural revolutions" in which the bad old days must be destroyed in place of the new good revolutionary ideas. Think Oliver Cromwell, le Comité de Salut Public, the totalitarian ideologies of the 20th century, etc...
(In fact, I believe that atheism is merely another form of monotheism. Modern atheists only disbelieve in one god. Think about it, if you don't believe in one god in a polytheistic system, then there are still several thousand, give or take a few, for you to believe in. Socrates had to drink hemlock for promoting a belief in only one god, rather than many.)
Therefore, it is monotheism and amonotheism that creates apocalypticism in Old World mythology--let's not drag the various autochtonous American mythologies into this. Even though the Hindus believe in a cyclical history, their apocalypse is many millions of years away. Monotheism creates the sense that one is living in the end times. Here's how it works...

1. There is only one God.


2. God is beneficent.


3. There is bad in the world.


4. A good God will get rid of the bad.


5. This is going to happen any day now.

Now, of course, Jesus was both critical of and friendly to this variety of monotheism. That's why there is a delicate dance in Christianity. There is the need to make peace with the world, and to be ready to destroy it. This is the same tension between the rock upon which Christ will build his church and the cornerstone which the builders have rejected. It is the inherent tension of the burning bush.
Now, the ironic thing is, that we are in the modern age, since we have amonotheism as the major philosophical system of entertainment, apocalypse movies are about stopping the apocalypse. Even the ostensibly Christian, however, excreable TV series, Revelations involved stopping the "end of days."
Yet, how does one stop the apocalypse, the inexorable end of days? The answer--through a ridiculous and wholly unbelievable plot twist. And when it is an apocalypsis per alienos, the unbelievable plot deserves the most unbelievable twists. This brings us to the third and semi-final point.

It's got a deus ex machina
MULTIPLE MOVIE SPOILER ALERTS,
but I'll try not to ruin War of the Worlds for anyone who has never read Ray Bradbury

In Mars Attacks Tom Jones' singing makes the Martians heads explode--at least that was funny.
In Signs the aliens apparently can't handle contact with water, although they were invading a planet 70% of whose surface is covered by it. Yet, the real twist to the movie is that the movie is not about aliens at all, but actually about faith.
According to John, in Evolution the aliens are brought down by a liberal spraying of dandruff shampoo. Let's face it, this movie counted on Seann William Scott to lend it gravitas.
In War of the Worlds the aliens are doomed in the same way they were in Bradbury's Martian Chronicles. It's the ultimate home court advantage. I shall say no more.

It's evolutionary
denoument and conclusion
this is a not a fourth point

I believe this movie, as suggested to me by the pre-movie advertisements, is the third in Spielberg's Alien Trilogy--Close Encounters Of The Third Kind, E.T., and now this movie. The three trilogies each deal with the life stages of the human in the riddle of the Sphinx. Of course, the answer to the riddle is the meaning of life. However, in each of these stages, Spielberg places the protagonist in a different stage to help amplify the pathos for all of us.
In the morning, as we walk on four legs, we are curious about the world around us. This curiousity is both dangerous and vital to our development as humans. We are driven to encounter our worlds in a meaningful way. Richard Dreyfuss was acting much like an infant, because that's what he was, an infant exploring his wondrous universe.
In the afternoon, as we walk on two legs, we learn to protect and nourish those in our community. Parents care for children, the community takes care of itself. Elliot, although a child, cares for E.T. the way a parent would care for a child.
In the evening, as we walk on three legs, we learn to face death. Tom Cruise, although only middle-aged, is only able to survive his ordeal when he accepts the inevitability of death.
Now, for those amonotheists among us who see nothing beyond the grave, I can understand why this movie might be "dark" and "apocalyptic," however, it was vaguely entertaining, and in so much as the movie is about the acceptance of the inexorability of death and not about aliens, it's about as good as Signs.
Oh, by the by, the special effects are stinking amazing!