The War Of The Worlds Series 1 Ep 1: All is Not Wells

Storyline: It was with a great degree of excitement I watched the trailer for this series a few weeks ago. And yet I was caught completely unawares as, much like an alien invasion, it snuck unannounced into my weekend viewing this Sunday with very little fanfare. I also have to admit to some initial confusion about the overall timing of this series. By which I don’t mean the change in historical placement, but more the pacing of the story. Wells original masterpiece has several set pieces involving meeting the curate, the Artilleryman (twice) and witnessing the rousing efforts of the Thunderchild. None of which have yet been touched on. If all this is to be added in with only two episodes to go then things have got to seriously move apace. There is also the perplexing switching out of the cylindrical meteor in favour of the more dramatic spinning sphere of death. And the glaring omission of the ‘tentacled bear like beings with lidless eyes’, bypassing them in favour of the admittedly more spectacular Tripods. The analogy of this New Dark God rising from behind a quaint parochial English Church was not lost on me.
Aside from that image so far this has left me feeling somewhat short changed in that respect. We have barely even glimpsed the Heat Ray and Black Gas, let alone the formation of the Red Weed. All of which was an integral part of the narrative marking events as a just few weeks, due to the demise of the Martians being caused by exposure to microscopic organisms (spoiler, but not really). And with the addition of the ‘flash forward’ element not originally in the book which shows Amy with a toddler, we have now been given an indicator of several years as opposed to weeks, which far outlasts the intended resolution in the final chapter. Though this was laid out in an interestingly vague format throughout the episode, the realization of the implications did not help my anxiety, especially as the main character is clearly AWOL.

Writing: There were however some redeeming features, which had cause to reassure me, beginning with the opening narrative. There have been many iterations of the original novel over the years, one of the most famous being the Jeff Wayne musical version. Though fans of the musical may declare the narration from the opening sequence changed, it is in fact closer in textual accuracy to the novel. With one or two noticeable differences. The change in year and narrator. Going from the traditional Victorian to Edwardian period may seem without reason, but it has somewhat drawn a more realistic parallel to the ongoing plight of mankind and the all too human struggle within. Given the idea came to the author in discussion with his brother about the damaging effect of British Imperialism on the indigenous Tasmanian population, it could be said the inclusion of a wartime backdrop during the reign of Imperialist Britain would serve it well.

There is also a clever bit of artistic license taken by inserting a relationship into the narrative. Again seemingly with no purpose other than to make the human interest angle more prevalent, but hear me out and I’ll tell you why this is important. When you take into consideration this subplot mirrors that of the authors own life story it adds a resonance and lends it another authentic edge, giving the story a unique voice hinging on the author himself. It is a little known fact that H.G. Wells himself was married to his cousin Isabel in 1891, but with them having nothing in common he fell in love with a student named Amy. And after three short years moved in with her….in a little house in Woking, which became the backdrop for the novel.

Acting: Which brings us to the casting. Rafe Spall is perfect as the previously unnamed lead character, and naming him George as another nod to the author, a somewhat logical step to better identify him to the viewer. Although he has been sidelined as narrator in favour of Eleanor Tomlinson, an obvious and possibly necessary move to encourage a wider audience. And when you consider the novel originally had only tangentially included the ‘good lady wife’ in the opening and closing of the story, it seems she was probably not deemed necessary to the original target audience. However in a more progressive society she is a more important inclusion. After all it’s through the incidental characters that we related to the completely uninteresting lead of Tom Cruise’s outing. How better to believably identify the viewer to the character and better understand his motivation than to use her to inform his journey and help involve us in his plight and evoke the emotional attachment.

Another character change is the short lived Ogilvy the Astronomer. Played by the wickedly brilliant Robert Carlyle, he was originally just another victim of circumstance during the Horsell Common slaughter. But in his short appearance he managed to endear the viewer to Amy, being a relatable and affable character himself. If he can warm to her then we surely should, despite the cold reception she receives from everyone else around her. This is a lucky happen-stance as without his validation I don’t think she would have been as welcome to me either.

Production: Points have to also be given simply for being the first EVER filmed adaptation to return the story to its home ground, when every other version was purloined to the US. This time there was a noticeable air of authenticity, especially as the strategic placement of the attack was the heart of the British Empire. This being more shocking at a time when Britain was riding high as a premier naval and colonial power, so sure in it’s own superiority ‘what ho, chaps tally ho and all that’. The settings were particularly resonant, giving us a perfectly vivid realization of the locations created by Wells. And with the intended time frame being so keenly identified, none of it had the appearance of seeming like a film set, nor staged with props and dressing. Even Ogilvy’s filming equipment was authentic and professionally managed. And even the language with use of words like ‘sod’. Sensibilities of the age were also well thought out, with the cool and detached behaviours toward the help. Then there is the sense of impropriety and behaviours surrounding the scandalous nature of the relationship, with the brother taking the side of the affronted wife/cousin over George’s new love, as well as the locals.

Music: Much like the story itself the music had some huge boots to fill, not only from the musical, which I have to admit I couldn’t help hankering to hear adapted, but also the Spielberg 2005 epic (ignoring two other versions the same year) and the original 1953. The score of the show here has made it’s mark, being particularly oppressive in the reveal of the menace at Horsell Common and the massacre that followed. This was a reveal that Wells himself took great pleasure in describing. Even before the book was published he told friends who lived in the area just what fate was to befall his neighbours in the proximity of Woking. And so the music had the enormous responsibility of conveying the horror he intended to visit on his neighbours. But the music had to carry the weight of the scene here, even though visually it was somewhat sanitized by the efficiency and lack of actual gore.

However this is where it lets itself down. The off kilter pacing in a three episode drama and the lacking body count, it may not stand the test of time in comparison to its forebears. After all in the words of League of Gentlemen, when “how many killings?” is the question that defines a memorable story these days, what else will this adaptation deliver that we haven’t seen before? Because the high quality visual effects, which is a rarity in a short tv drama, the gravitas of the main cast, solid set design and having the home ground advantage only gets you so far.