Such was the question occurring to me as I struggled through yet another disastrously ridiculous SciFi Channel disaster movie. Do they intend for their homegrown movies to be so cheap, so silly, so patently obvious in what passes for plot? I have watched half a dozen of these "SciFi Channel World Premiere Event" movies in the past year and each is uniquely, achingly bad in its own right. Disaster Zone: Volcano in New York, however, brings bad into a new light.
Every hackneyed device of disaster movie development is employed to predictable, hackneyed affect: the hero, a burly tunnel digger, leads his crew of rough-but-capable misfits (Local 147 "Sand Hogs") in a daring race against the volcano to save New York City from certain incineration by lava. Along the way, he encounters his bitter ex-wife, a USGS PhD who, apparently, is woefully unfamiliar with the indications of volcanic activity and must be convinced by Mr. Sand Hog that what has been happening across the city is not actually terrorism. Throw in some incompetent DHS and FBI investigators; an incredulous mayor and his scheming, corrupt deputy; a female Sand Hog whose daddy was a legend among Sand Hogs; a foreman who is overly safety-conscious, except when he's not; and the unfortunate but gruesome deaths of several supporting "color" characters and you've got your standard disaster movie fare, all dressed up with nowhere to go except straight down the tubes.
As seems to be the new standard, the volcano is not itself the "enemy," typically the case in classic disaster movies; no, the volcano is the unfortunate result spawned by a greedy (read: evil) scientist of the "mad" persuasion who has drilled a 7-mile deep hole beneath Manhattan into the Earth's molten core so as to capture the thermal energy and make bazillions of dollars. Really. Greedy, Evil Scientist guy has been able to pull this off with the help of the Deputy Mayor, who has greased palms all over the city in order to keep the drilling secret until such time as the thermal energy could be captured and the resulting power plant used to "open franchises" the world over. Oh, and make Greedy, Evil Scientist guy and Deputy Mayor filthy, stinking rich.
Once Mr. Sand Hog has convinced Dr. USGS that there really is a volcano developing beneath Manhattan, it is up to Local 147 to stop it. Of course. With just 5 guys, two of whom die in the process. C'mon, you know how this goes: the greedy, evil scientist guy dies, the safety-waffling foreman dies, the homeless guy dies, the black guy dies, the Hispanic pyromaniac dies in a column of lava, the female Sand Hog survives and Mr. Sand Hog and Dr. USGS get back together and suck face as the credits roll.
In the 50s and 60s, we were subjected to horror movies populated with monsters created from nuclear testing. In the 70s, disaster movies became an art form, with man struggling - often in futility - against the ravages of nature: no way did George Kennedy try to stop that 1975 earthquake, but he sure managed the aftermath really, really well. We would see disaster as the result of man's folly - think "The Towering Inferno" for example - but also as the quirky acts of nature they are. There is no moral imperative in an avalanche: the best one could be accused of is getting what's coming to them for being in the wrong place, against instructions.
In these modern disaster movies, we are treated to scenarios in which garden variety pests (bees, bats, locusts and the like) become monsters created out of genetic engineering or toxic waste dumping, or the very planet itself rebels against its victimization at the hands of mankind, specifically, Greedy Evil Scientist guys and their investors. That the Department of Homeland Security plays so prominently in this story is, I think, indicative of the scare level living just below the surface of the American consciousness. Perhaps we can console ourselves with thinking that we can have some control over terrorism when faced with the towering realities of volcanic activity. How much more helpless can a person be than in the face of a volcano? Instead, as the FBI and DHS chase their tails around looking for bogeyman "terrorists," science and tunnel workers overtake and control nature. One wonders if the SciFi Channel folks intended for this to be the moral of the story: terrorists, we can't catch 'em but, boy howdy, we can put a hurt on a natural disaster! One doubts that such a "lesson" is the purpose here, as it seems very little in this TV movie is planned out that well. The clichés are working overtime, the special effects aren't, and you and your sweetie can project the plot line almost to a certainty. There are no surprises in Disaster Zone: Volcano in New York, except perhaps your own surprise at your willingness to waste two hours of your life on such dreck. Not a bad way to snozzle away two hours on a bitterly cold Saturday night, but those are two hours of your life you will never get back. If you must watch this movie, invite some friends over and make it a party.
Every hackneyed device of disaster movie development is employed to predictable, hackneyed affect: the hero, a burly tunnel digger, leads his crew of rough-but-capable misfits (Local 147 "Sand Hogs") in a daring race against the volcano to save New York City from certain incineration by lava. Along the way, he encounters his bitter ex-wife, a USGS PhD who, apparently, is woefully unfamiliar with the indications of volcanic activity and must be convinced by Mr. Sand Hog that what has been happening across the city is not actually terrorism. Throw in some incompetent DHS and FBI investigators; an incredulous mayor and his scheming, corrupt deputy; a female Sand Hog whose daddy was a legend among Sand Hogs; a foreman who is overly safety-conscious, except when he's not; and the unfortunate but gruesome deaths of several supporting "color" characters and you've got your standard disaster movie fare, all dressed up with nowhere to go except straight down the tubes.
As seems to be the new standard, the volcano is not itself the "enemy," typically the case in classic disaster movies; no, the volcano is the unfortunate result spawned by a greedy (read: evil) scientist of the "mad" persuasion who has drilled a 7-mile deep hole beneath Manhattan into the Earth's molten core so as to capture the thermal energy and make bazillions of dollars. Really. Greedy, Evil Scientist guy has been able to pull this off with the help of the Deputy Mayor, who has greased palms all over the city in order to keep the drilling secret until such time as the thermal energy could be captured and the resulting power plant used to "open franchises" the world over. Oh, and make Greedy, Evil Scientist guy and Deputy Mayor filthy, stinking rich.
Once Mr. Sand Hog has convinced Dr. USGS that there really is a volcano developing beneath Manhattan, it is up to Local 147 to stop it. Of course. With just 5 guys, two of whom die in the process. C'mon, you know how this goes: the greedy, evil scientist guy dies, the safety-waffling foreman dies, the homeless guy dies, the black guy dies, the Hispanic pyromaniac dies in a column of lava, the female Sand Hog survives and Mr. Sand Hog and Dr. USGS get back together and suck face as the credits roll.
In the 50s and 60s, we were subjected to horror movies populated with monsters created from nuclear testing. In the 70s, disaster movies became an art form, with man struggling - often in futility - against the ravages of nature: no way did George Kennedy try to stop that 1975 earthquake, but he sure managed the aftermath really, really well. We would see disaster as the result of man's folly - think "The Towering Inferno" for example - but also as the quirky acts of nature they are. There is no moral imperative in an avalanche: the best one could be accused of is getting what's coming to them for being in the wrong place, against instructions.
In these modern disaster movies, we are treated to scenarios in which garden variety pests (bees, bats, locusts and the like) become monsters created out of genetic engineering or toxic waste dumping, or the very planet itself rebels against its victimization at the hands of mankind, specifically, Greedy Evil Scientist guys and their investors. That the Department of Homeland Security plays so prominently in this story is, I think, indicative of the scare level living just below the surface of the American consciousness. Perhaps we can console ourselves with thinking that we can have some control over terrorism when faced with the towering realities of volcanic activity. How much more helpless can a person be than in the face of a volcano? Instead, as the FBI and DHS chase their tails around looking for bogeyman "terrorists," science and tunnel workers overtake and control nature. One wonders if the SciFi Channel folks intended for this to be the moral of the story: terrorists, we can't catch 'em but, boy howdy, we can put a hurt on a natural disaster! One doubts that such a "lesson" is the purpose here, as it seems very little in this TV movie is planned out that well. The clichés are working overtime, the special effects aren't, and you and your sweetie can project the plot line almost to a certainty. There are no surprises in Disaster Zone: Volcano in New York, except perhaps your own surprise at your willingness to waste two hours of your life on such dreck. Not a bad way to snozzle away two hours on a bitterly cold Saturday night, but those are two hours of your life you will never get back. If you must watch this movie, invite some friends over and make it a party.