he 19th-century writers Jules Verne and H.G. Wells arguably invented the modern science-fiction novel, as well as many of the cliches of the genre. Wells looks to have been responsible for the hordes of alien weirdos that have descended, uninvited, on our fair sphere from the reaches of space, and The War of the Words may well be his best-known title—if not necessarily his best work. Jeff Wayne's original 1978 two-LP release is here updated with a wealth of "new" material. There's also a "making of" DVD of bonus video footage, including some stuff from Wayne's animated version of WOTW, now in production. Yow!
It really is the Year of WOTW, seemingly. There are several adaptations of the venerable work coming out, and Wayne is riding this crest. There's the Spielberg treatment; a direct-to-video effort directed by David Michael Latt starring C. Thomas Howell, Jake Busey, Peter Greene, Andy Lauer and Tinamarie van Wyk-Loots; the Pendragon Pictures period-piece version with a cast of unknowns from Timothy Hines; and Jeff Wayne's own aforementioned CGI adaptation.
Despite taking considerable liberties with Wells' characters and plotline, the Wayne story follows the broad strokes of the novel fairly closely. Richard Burton, who is more or less phoning in his performance, narrates and plays "The Journalist." Phil Lynott of Thin Lizzy performs the essentially thankless role of the hysterical Parson Nathaniel—an expansion of the nameless curate's character in the novel. He's given a wife, Beth, played by stage actress Julie Covington (Godspell, Evita, The Rocky Horror Show and Rock Follies). Rocker David Essex, with whom Wayne worked extensively, is The Artilleryman.
Much of the musical "connective tissue" is handed off to Justin Hayward of the Moody Blues (and, as we see in some of the outtakes, John Lodge as well). Hayward has to sing such lyrics as "The chances of anything coming from Mars are a million to one." One hopes he was well paid. Others on hand for the festivities are Chris Thompson of Manfred Mann's Earth Band, guitarist Jo Partridge and legendary bassist Herbie Flowers (Nilsson Schmilsson) and guitarist Chris Spedding, who did such brilliant work on Jack Bruce's first two solo albums (as well as on Schmilsson). It's a prodigious lot of talent, to be sure, but—what's the upshot?
An invasion in need of an author
Well, given that the "book" here was written by Wayne's mother, Doreen, who seems to have no other writing credits, it's no surprise that the storyline is a bit uneven, to say the least, being decidedly jejune in parts. The album would have benefited from a vetting by a more experienced writer, such as D.G. Compton, for example, or Michael Moorcock, or even Chris Priest. How cool would that have been? Alas!
The biggest problem, though, is with the music. For a rock opera (more properly an oratorio), Wayne's WOTW is not as majestic or as powerful as it should be. While it's admittedly catchy in places, the whole shebang is driven by the ubiquitous mid-'70s disco beat and the relatively crummy synth patches that were available back then. The patches are acceptable, really, but the beat has not worn well, to say the least. In fact, what really stands out in this multi-disc package is the remix tracks, most of which eschew the disco or at least bury it down in the mix. Also, the alternate and early-version takes generally display rather more musical muscle and imagination than the "finished" product. For example, there's some interesting use of instruments rarely heard in a rock format, such as autoharp and marimba. Too bad these didn't make it over to the final version.
A single released from the original album—"Forever Autumn," sung by Hayward—charted in the United Kingdom. It's a lovely number that frames the narrator's quest for the lover he is separated from when the Martians invade.
On the plus side, no one would be able to claim that there isn't plenty of material here. The first two CDs comprise the original double album remixed in stereo and multi-channel 5.1 surround sound from the original 48-track master tapes by Jeff Wayne himself. Disc 1 is titled "The Coming of the Martians" and sets up the story. Disc 2, "The Earth Under the Martians," details our subjugation and the eventual deus-ex-machina triumph (so nicely prefigured in the very first paragraph of the Wells novel) of our bacteria against the octopoid Martian vampires. Disc 3 contains club remixes of album cuts from 1979 to 2005. There follow three more CDs packed with related material, mostly outtakes and alternate versions, including rarities, foreign-language versions and more than 37 minutes of never-before-heard Richard Burton narrative, less than 40 percent of which made its way onto the final album. Then, of course, there is the seventh disc, the DVD with its documentary and so forth.
All of this comes packaged in a deluxe 12-by-12-inch hardback presentation case (coincidentally the size of the original LP release—hmmm!), with a 76-page perfect-bound book of full-color paintings and other images that Wayne commissioned for the original album. Some new art is also included.
