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War Of The Worlds, 2005


When I saw Independence Day back in 1996, it all made perfect sense at first. Aliens arrive to our planet with intentions that are unclear? Sure. A humongous extraterrestrial spacecraft looms above the Los Angeles basin? OK. As the menacing craft hovers over L.A. for extended hours, people still find time in the day to visit a strip club? Perfectly understandable.

Then Wil Smith punches a recklessly flying alien in the face and lights up a stoagie.

War Of The Worlds, 2005. Great stuff. Spielberg, Summer, popcorn, monsters. Everything you need for a good time. Minus the stoagie.

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