“Volcano” (1997) picks a smart topic to take advantage of how the burgeoning tech of CGI can work well in a disaster movie. Slow (yet ominously) flowing lava looks realistic as a serious threat to Los Angeles. Throw in a couple stars who know how to act, efficient directing from TV veteran Mike Jackson (who behind the scenes was perhaps wisely juggling logistics like Tommy Lee Jones’ character) and a sense of “We know this is a movie” playfulness, and you have a hot product.
It’s a timeless movie in a way. Because city governments tend to not be too innovative (especially in a waste-riddled state like California), the logistics of how officials would fight lava flowing through the subway tunnels and streets probably has not changed much. Decidedly on the hopeful side (but that’s the point), writers Jerome Armstrong (in his only credit) and Billy Ray (in the first big credit of a successful career) focus on two heroes amid officialdom: emergency response leader Mike Roark (Jones) and seismologist Dr. Amy Barnes (Anne Heche).
I got back into the spirit of 1997 rules of movie couples quickly, not flinching at the idea that 50-ish Mike and 20-something Amy are a potential match. There’s no time for that in the smart script – given strong pacing by editors Don Brochu and Michael Tronick — as we’re thrown from one mini-disaster to another amid the big disaster.
“Volcano” (1997)
Director: Mick Jackson
Writers: Jerome Armstrong, Billy Ray
Stars: Tommy Lee Jones, Anne Heche, Gaby Hoffmann
The dialog between Mike and Amy is expositional, but it also sets up their fast-earned mutual respect. Both are hardened professionals, the heart of a movie that points out a situation like this requires teamwork and trust among potentially egotistical people who have risen to the top.
It flows fast
To its credit, “Volcano” isn’t interested in big heroic arcs, but small, effective ones. Mike’s 13-year-old daughter Kelly (Gaby Hoffmann) isn’t an entitled brat; she’s perfectly likeable. But she has no inclination to get into the thick of something like this, until forced to. The subway line director (John Carroll Lynch) likes to complain … until it comes time to act.
A weakness of “Volcano” is its struggle to present anyone whose position of power is revealed as a joke by this disaster. Though scary and intense, the movie ultimately wants us to feel good about humanity. This results in corner-cutting among antagonists.
The most thankless role belongs to John Corbett as real-estate magnate Norman Calder. In almost all his scenes, he demands that his nurse wife (Jacqueline Kim) leave her parade of patients. She eventually responds with silence, which is what a person like that deserves – and also a character like that. I appreciate how when Calder’s building is purposely demolished as part of the lava diversion, the film doesn’t cut to him. “Volcano” may be filled with cliches, but it knows when we’ve gotten the point.
One thing that does place the film in 1997 is its preoccupation with the Rodney King and O.J. Simpson events. It’s not the wrong instinct, but it’s a shame all we get is a white cop being racist toward a black citizen who wants the firefighters diverted to his neighborhood. The story goes in the “Can’t we all get along” direction we’d expect.
But “Volcano” never dwells; it moves. And while I’m sure the science is not accurate, the pseudo-science plays fair: The lava generally crawls, but when insulated and tunneled into tubes via the subway, it’s fast and terrifying. The movie is fast too, delivering a complete epic in 104 minutes, something modern films of this scope would have no clue how to accomplish.