My dad and uncle have been waiting for this film with rabid anticipation since they heard about it at a recent science fiction convention. I reserved judgment, alternately thrilled that Steven Spielberg was helming the project and concerned that Tom Cruise was the lead actor.

I needn't have worried.

I was introduced to War of the Worlds through the 1953 version, then the radio play, and then finally the book. Each incarnation differs from its predecessor in important ways. But like Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, the incarnations have become so representative of their times that they all provide important contributions to the overall story, sometimes even overshadowing the original. Whether the Marians invade the Thames or Grover Mills, New Jersey, the story of foreign invaders is always relevant.

I'll admit it…I wasn't ready for this version of War of the Worlds.

To clarify, I live north of New York City. I was not at Ground Zero of September 11, but I did some volunteer work to help out the victims. I saw a huge smoke cloud over the site, weeks after the attack. I remember the conversation amongst my fellow volunteers: nobody believed it was possible to have such a horrible reminder still floating in the air after such a terrible event. But it was true. Something that awful does not simply disappear after the rubble stops falling.

In War of the Worlds, Tom Cruise plays Ray Ferrier, a deadbeat dad with two kids he obviously hasn't seen in awhile. His wife (Miranda Otto of Eowyn fame) drops off preteen Rachel (Dakota Fanning) and teen Robbie (Justin Chatwin), only to discover that Ray has no food or even separate rooms for the kids. Then the lightning storms start, without any thunder at all, and Ray's amusement at the whole event slowly transforms to terror.

An electromagnetic pulse (EMP) fries all electronics, leaving Ray's home without electricity or communication. So Ray visits the site of one of the lightning strikes, unwittingly placing himself at ground zero of the invasion. The lightning bolts are actually alien pilots touching down from space, landing in war machines buried thousands of years ago. Then the invasion begins.

The tripods, unlike the 50s version, are decidedly machines . They whirr and click and, most disturbingly of all, BELLOW in a sound that can only be psychological warfare. Striding on three thin legs tipped with three pod-shaped toes, the machines fire disintegration rays that destroy all living flesh but not clothing. There is more than one scene of clothing floating through the air, shades of the debris still floating in that cloud over the Twin Towers.

The threat in the movie isn't from the aliens alone. Ray knows from the outset that owning a functioning car after an EMP is a valuable find and he intends to protect it and his family with a revolver. But as Spielberg deftly portrays, the power of the gun is only in the hands of whoever holds it at the moment. And who holds a gun can change very quickly.

In a lot of ways, this movie is the realization of what M. Night Shyamalan was trying to do with Signs. The film rockets from paranoia about the alien's motives to terror at their awesome power to creepy claustrophobia as alien probes scope out the ruins. Signs felt choppy and disjointed. War of the Worlds has none of those problems, and it relentlessly ups the destruction and the inhumanity of it all (of the aliens and of humans with each other) right up to the end.

Forget Cruise's silly ranting on Oprah. If you're of a more cynical nature, his recent public displays might provide even better insight into his character. In this movie, Cruise provides a fine performance as a self-centered jerk that doesn't know much about his kids. It's only when he realizes he might lose them that Ray rises to the occasion, and there is nothing he won't do to protect his flesh and blood.

Dakota Fanning is at her finest here, convincingly playing an articulate little girl who desperately needs her father when he's got so many other things to worry about. The other characters are not as significant. Tim Robbins plays a nutty Ogivly (a character from the original book) and Ray's older son slowly transforms from a petulant brat to a man who wants to go to war…unfortunately, the actor has difficulty pulling that off.

Spielberg's version of War of the Worlds is not a science fiction parable, like the 1950s version. It's not a polemic on the folly of man, like the original book. Any marvel at how the alien technology works is lost in their relentless, seemingly purposeless, destruction of humanity. It's much closer to the radio play in that it's a survival horror.

That horror is best summed up in a question, never broached in the 50s version: Why are the tripods COLLECTING people? Spielberg unflinchingly tells us.

H.G. Wells' himself provided the best reaction to the answer: "The bare idea of this is no doubt horribly repulsive to us, but at the same time I think that we should remember how repulsive our carnivorous habits would seem to an intelligent rabbit."

Humans should definitely see this movie, if only as a reminder of our own vulnerability, both physically and mentally. Intelligent rabbits may want to give it a pass.