More than a century ago, H.G. Wells gave the world a new genre of fiction, the alien-invasion story.

In a way, Wells's creative situation mirrored that of his aliens, first-time colonizers taking an unprecedented step in setting out to conquer a new world.

Five decades later, director Byron Haskin, who helmed the first cinematic adaptation of Wells’ classic novel The War of the Worlds in 1953, was in a somewhat similar position. At least, alien-invasion cinema was still basically new territory, though Haskin didn'd exactly invent the genre.

In his new rendition of the Wells story, both Steven Spielberg and his alien invaders are in a very different position. In this War of the Worlds, it turns out that the aliens aren'd blindly coming to Earth. The groundwork for their invasion was laid long ago, by previous generations of aliens who first planted their deadly tripods below our planet's surface to await the day when they would return to conquer.

Similarly, Spielberg himself isn'd approaching this premise blind. By now the territory has been well explored, the possibilities of Wells’ premise extensively hashed out, by generations of storytellers of varying levels of creative skill as well as scientific and military insight.

On the screen, stories like Invasion of the Body Snatchers and the TV miniseries “V” offered thoughtful takes on the alien-invasion premise. A 1996 film called The Arrival provided one of the smarter cinematic variations, though it was dwarfed that year by the silly popcorn actioner Independence Day. More recently, M. Night Shyamalan's Signs explored the spirituality of alien invasion.

Now, with the new War of the Worlds, it's amazing how far the aliens haven'd come. Spatially, of course, they're coming much farther than before; Mars is no longer a credible homeworld for invading aliens, so Spielberg's attackers have presumably crossed interstellar distances to get here. Technologically, too, the invaders’ weapons are as far beyond those of Haskin's film as the cutting-edge special effects of today are beyond those of 1953.

Yet the alien invasion makes less sense in this retelling, as does their undoing, though it is the same as in previous versions of the story. As with Shyamalan's aliens in Signs, it doesn'd make sense that these aliens would be so unprepared for what becomes their downfall. After all, unlike their counterparts in previous versions, these invaders have been to Earth before, perhaps a million years ago or even more.

Think about what this means. For hundreds of millennia, these beings have possessed interstellar travel, not to mention serious planet-conquering military hardware. They've had the will and the capability to bring heavy-duty weaponry to other planets in preparation for a conquest far in the future. And now, hundreds of millennia later, they still have the will and the know-how to come here and use it.

Clearly, interplanetary conquest is an immutable part of who these aliens are and what they do. How many other planets must they have visited, explored and conquered since first visiting our planet? Surely there can be very little about the potential pitfalls and hazards of this kind of work that they don'd know. To be that advanced for that long, to put in that much preparation and time — and then to make a mistake that basic — is more than a plot glitch. It's a fundamental flaw that all but defies suspension of disbelief.

This is not to say War of the Worlds is boring or uninvolving — Spielberg is far too accomplished a director for that. He knows how to keep viewers on the edge of their seats, how to play their nerves and emotions like fiddle strings, how to subordinate the most incredible special effects to the narrative so that they feel to viewers like real events, not impressive technical achievements.

Under his efficient, assured direction, this War of the Worlds is consistently gripping, even riveting excitement. Yet it's rather grim, joyless excitement, and not very satisfying in the end. Other than sheer spectacle, the film is about little more than the experience of desperation and flight in the face of unimaginable crisis.

That Spielberg dresses this up in the trappings of 9/11 imagery — the missing-persons displays, the dust-covered survivors — gives the film some topical cachet, but there's no commentary or catharsis here. Batman Begins, a far better summer film, also played (far more subtly) with 9/11 themes, but at least there the conflict was about something — the bad guys had motives, the hero fought for a principle, and the resolution was earned, not unconvincing or arbitrary.

Grim Gawking

How do human beings respond to extreme crises? War of the Worlds doesn'd slow down to ask. There's lots of running around and screaming, a few instances of mob ugliness and general human selfishness, and at least one crackpot. But in real life there's another side to this coin: Crises bring out the best in humanity as well as the worst.

Unfortunately, like James Cameron's Titanic, Spielberg's film only highlights the ugly side of human nature under pressure without managing to celebrate the capacity of ordinary human beings in crisis to put others first and even risk their lives to aid strangers.

There's no room in this relentless story for any spiritual searching or reflection, also a ubiquitous dimension of human response to crises. Churches and synagogues in Manhattan and all over America overflowed in the aftermath of 9/11, but that's one 9/11 association War of the Worlds has no interest in exploring.

I see I've gotten almost all the way through this review without mentioning the character played by Tom Cruise — an irresponsible, working-class divorcé and deadbeat dad — or his two more or less alienated children, Rachel (Dakota Fanning) and Robbie (Justin Chatwin).

There's not much to tell. Ray (Cruise) is the kind of ex-husband any responsible ex-wife (such as Miranda Otto) would dread leaving her children with every other weekend — the kind of guy who would have only peanut butter and Tabasco sauce in the fridge when the kids show up for their weekend with dad, and who invites his 10-year-old daughter to order out while he takes a nap, leaving her in the care of her older brother, who's likely as not to take the car and ditch his sister.

I understand why Spielberg wishes to tell his story through the eyes of a few particular characters — just not why he chose these particular characters, who are neither particularly interesting, sympathetic, or important.

The film has taken lumps from critics over the “happy” coda, a character-centered denouement that I found not so much calculated or manipulative as pointless; I would have had to care about the characters more to feel manipulated.

Yet, in spite of the failure of the whole, Spielberg makes the parts work well enough that War of the Worlds is almost worth it. Individual set pieces are riveting, and one seldom doubts that, if alien tripods were actually wreaking havoc on the Earth, this is indeed very much what it would be like. Afterwards, though, the viewer is left with little more than ashes.

Steven D. Greydanus is editor and chief critic of DecentFilms.com.