I've seen some horrific pieces of garbage in my time and I never thought I would say this, but there is a film worse than Timbo Hines' The War of the Worlds. It's this one. The problem is it just doesn't have an ounce of entertainment value; whereas many terrible films have that so-weird-it's-fascinating charm, this just lacks personality. It sets itself up as an epic, but one shot on 16mm (which has been so badly shot it looks like mini DV) and with a cast of maybe ten people. Actually, the photography says a lot; there are scenes in dark woods shot with no additional lighting, grain screams out at you so badly that you think you're watching something shot on Hi-8 and night scenes look as though they were shot by use of car headlights or clip-on camcorder lights. Half the time there is so little light, the iris is wide open. Result? Much of the film is out of focus. Though some scenes do look striking, the look of the film is so variable as to be unwatchable.
Robbie Moffat, the director of this atrocity, has a penchant for reviewing his own films on here. In one review (of another film) he says, referring to the other reviewers, "Do they have any idea how hard it is to make a film?" Well, actually yes, we do but obviously Moffat doesn't. He is under the impression that his audience won't notice how little effort has gone into his productions. When one has little or no money to make a film, one is forced to spend one's only other asset: time. Had Moffat thought to do this, he might have been able to, say, organise at least one battle scene with the help of a Roman re-enactment society (such people are always willing to turn up for free). He also assumes that his audience are stupid. Populating the derelict countryside (which is free to shoot in) with as few actors as possible in the belief no one will notice the cheapness of it all.
His screenplay doesn't help either. It is aimless, as though after thinking up a story (which would have been a minor subplot in any other film), he decided to pan it out with nothing but padding and weird characterisations. People seem to do stuff with no real motivation behind their actions. We have to put up with endless repetition and reiteration. Moffat is currently holding a screenwriter's course at Pinewood. I shall not be going.
How he even got hold of professional actors is beyond me (and why they have worked with him more than once is also incomprehensible). I can only assume that they weren't getting any offers and looking at what they have done lately, that's hardly surprising. James Watson in particular seems pretty down on his luck. It doesn't matter anyway, because they're a complete shower. James Watson, Victoria Pritchard and Ilaria D'Elia are totally forgettable, much in the same way that plywood is forgettable, but the other actors are surely amateurs.
Oh yes. There's a title song. Why do these sorts of films think it necessary to always have a title song? And why do bad films contain so much walking?
