In a surprising twist in the entertainment world, political commentator Ben Shapiro found himself tackling the cinematic disaster known as “The War of the Worlds.” Set against a backdrop that can only be described as Florida’s finest, this Amazon Prime film has scored a whopping 0% on Rotten Tomatoes—a feat so impressive that it feels almost intentional. With Ice Cube as an NSA surveillance analyst and Eva Longoria attempting to play a NASA climatologist, one has to wonder what on Earth (or beyond) was the thinking behind this cinematic choice.
Shapiro’s review paints a vivid picture of disappointment, matching the movie’s abysmal production quality. He aptly describes the film’s premise as an alien invasion viewed entirely through the lens of a man glued to his computer screen. The plot thickens—or rather, attempts to—when Shapiro mentions a surveillance expert portrayed by Ice Cube, an actor whose previous roles have not included bureaucratic office work. The casting choice raises eyebrows; perhaps Hollywood decided that the world needed more improbability alongside its extraterrestrial threats?
As Shapiro digs into the film’s nonsensical premise, he highlights how the aliens, capable of traversing galaxies, are ironically dependent on physical data centers to “feed” off Earth’s information. The absurdity escalates when viewers realize that the fate of humanity rests in the hands of a father-daughter duo—one a surveillance expert, the other a biology genius dating an Amazon delivery driver. Nothing says “high-stakes alien invasion” quite like product placements and familial disputes over tech access codes. One has to ask if the filmmakers were aiming for a comedy or if they simply delivered an accidental farce.
The narrative progresses into a climactic moment where Ice Cube’s character tries to self-sacrifice to save the planet—or at least the shambles of a plot. Yet, instead of heart-pumping tension, audiences are treated to tragic attempts at drama that leave one questioning if they mistakenly tuned into a blooper reel. The dialogue is reportedly so cringe-worthy that even the subtext feels next-level awkward. One cannot help but chuckle, knowing that sometimes nothing is funnier than a bad movie performed with sincerity.
The humor doesn’t stop at Shapiro’s review; social media has erupted with scathing critiques of the film, resonating with the sentiment that the only thing worse than watching this cinematic catastrophe might be being associated with it. Some reviews hilariously suggest that the movie should be used as a torture device for unsuspecting viewers. Amidst the heckling and disbelief, the consensus builds: “Do yourself a favor and avoid this film.”
In the grand scheme of things, Shapiro’s examination serves as a humorous reminder of how even the worst of movies can prompt reflection on larger societal themes. It highlights the absurdity of modern entertainment, where movie studios swing for the fences only to hit their audience with an epic miss. Whether it’s promising audience a blockbuster thrill or delivering absurdity served cold, “The War of the Worlds” will certainly go down in history—if only for the sheer flabbergasting disappointment it has managed to create. At the very least, it’s given viewers a good laugh at the expense of artistic integrity.
