Volcano (1997) đ
Genre: Sci-fi/Disaster
Release Year: 1997
MPAA Rating: PG-13
Director: Mick Jackson
Content Warnings: fiery human deaths, depictions of suffering, frightening tone
This film is a Charpentierâs Choice pick. đ
Overview
The '90s produced no shortage of disaster flicks, from Independence Day (1996) to Armageddon (1998), but some films received warmer reception than others. When 1997 saw the release of two separate volcano-related movies back-to-back, neither was welcomed, and both were burnt to a carcinogenic crisp by critics and moviegoers alike.
Such was the fate of Dante's Peak, a large-scale, small-town eruption film boasting powerhouse pyrotechnics and explosive spectacle, and its less technically impressive cousin, Volcano. Neither Fox nor Universal Pictures likely intended to turn '97 into the Year of the Bombed Volcano B-Movie. But once both studios caught an ash-clouded wind of the other's project, it was a race to the silver screen and the scorching reviews destined to follow their seismic shuffle into the public eye.
Two volcano movies, not much bang for either of their bucks
Plot Recap
Volcano follows Mike Roark (Tommy Lee Jones), head of Los Angeles's Office of Emergency Management, in his efforts to divert a massive lava flow pouring out from a newly-formed volcano beneath the city's feet. Geologist Amy Barnes (Anne Heche) joins him and L.A.'s entire fire department as the racially divided metropolis forges bonds in the flames of a seemingly never-ending, always-advancing 2,000-degree adversary.
Bye-bye, Wilshire Boulevard, 20th Century Studios
The Charp, the Dull, & the Recommendable
Volcano is a viscerally thrilling adventure rife with consequence and chaos. Its attitude and the volatile malice of its lavaâthe true star of the showâkindle a nail-biting fast-burn of a film that, while lukewarm by the final act, stokes plenty of excitement for disaster film fans.
The horror of the lava as it slowly, ponderously, but decisively creeps through landmark streets in the vacuous City of Angels makes for fiery nightmare fodder. Visual effects combine methylcellulose ("milkshake goop") with digital renderings for a molten rock spread that looks convincing almost thirty years later.
While unrealistic, certain moments spark genuine dread in the hearts of those who watch this film in good faith: Mike Roark and Amy Barnes cling to a flaming fire truck ladder slowly swiveling them to safety over an ocean of approaching lava. And Stan Olber (John Carroll Lynch), chairman of L.A.'s transportation, dies a riveting and unforgettable death in a pool of lava while rescuing an unconscious train conductor fromâyou guessed itâanother deadly tide of the hot stuff flowing underneath.
Roark and Barnes cling to a ladder over Death itself, 20th Century Studios
Volcano doesn't offer charismatic or fully developed characters, and some acting is hit or miss. In a casual, blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment, Mike Roark asks, "What's magma?" when conversing with Amy Barnes about what's happening beneath the Earth's crust. Most of L.A. doesn't seem to know what magma or lava is, which is both hilarious and groan-worthy.
Scientific accuracy is a nearly laughable concept here, but that could be said of most science fiction/disaster movies. Volcano clearly exaggerates almost everything that happens in it; a person, for example, couldn't walk a couple of feet over a lava flow and expect to not instantly burst into flames. But where its realism ends, the film's heart-pounding, dream-invading fictional horror begins, delivering a harrowing spectacle that harkens back to one's childhood "The Floor is Lava" days.
Lava invades a dogâs home, 20th Century Studios
Where Volcano loses its white-hot edge is in its race relations⌠message? Scriptwriter Bill Ray confessed that this filmâ"the embarrassment of my career" that sent him scrambling out of town before release dayâattempts a "hugely pretentious" use of lava to represent L.A.'s social ills.
When a white cop tries to arrest a black man during the lava's Wilshire Boulevard conquest, the black man compares himself to Rodney King. He is also shown to only care about saving "the neighborhood" where he has friends and contacts. This unflattering depiction paints African Americans as only concerned for fellow African Americans. When the white cop eventually stops harassing the black man, his colleague tells him he's a "good man" simply for not arresting the black man.
Volcano earned heaps of scorn and dismissal for this tactless portrayal of white and black/citizen and police interactions, and it deserves some of that criticism. But the film, while misguided, has its intentions in the right place. It didn't "solve" racism, certainly. It did, however, make a genuine attempt at highlighting the foolishness of mistreating people based on their color and offers this simple message: the enemy (lava) is better defeated together than divided.
Films like this represent a time when lower-quality productions still pulled their weight in confidence and charm. While Volcano suffers lapses in self-awareness and tosses brains for adrenaline, its certainty and energetic grandeur save it from any dull moments. Something is constantly happening on screen, and between multiple spooky subplotsâfighting off the lava sea aboveground and clearing out a melting subway train belowâthe film keeps one watching, knuckles at their mouth, to see what will happen, and who might die, next.
Verdict
Volcano oozes pure suspense in a fiery thrill-ride race to rescue L.A. fromâas the film impliesâdeserved damnation. While even Tommy Lee Jones can't quite gas up the smoldering script and save it from its half-baked plot, the movie delivers iconic moments, unapologetic comedy, and structural carnage in faithful disaster film fashion. Itâs the ultimate volcano movie. Want to see the West Coast and its materialistic hubris charred to a crisp? Look no further than this deliciously (melty) cheesy staple of '90s entertainment and one of the defining pictures of my childhood.
