Has it ever occurred to studios and filmmakers that if they were to simply snip 10-15 minutes of forced tension from their “disaster porn” blockbusters it would not only tighten their narrative, but improve the level of enjoyment and save them several millions of dollars? In the case of San Andreas, buildings would still fall, the Earth’s surface would still roll, Paul Giamatti would still survive while his subordinates die, Alexandre Daddario would still fit nicely in a tank top and Dwayne Johnson would still be required to perform feats of strength to save those he loves. Win-win… right?
After all, it isn’t as if San Andreas is all that different from any other movie of this sort. Destruction on a large scale (Los Angeles, San Francisco and Bakersfield are laid to waste), characters narrowly escaping a variety of un-escapable situations, fingertip survival, the “He left me!” moment and the coming together of those torn apart. So why bother us with the inevitable? Why pretend we don’t know what’s going to happen?
This isn’t to suggest going the overly self-aware Marvel route is the solution, but there’s no need for tedium such as watching a team of kids at Cal Tech jury-rig a broadcast signal to send out the message a massive earthquake is hitting California other than to allow Giammatti a chance to refer to it as a “seismic swarm event” and rattle off Richter scale numbers no one could care less about.
Let’s see if you can connect the dots… Johnson stars as Ray, a rescue pilot with over 600 saves to his credit. He’s getting a divorce from Emma (Carla Gugino), but still manages to have an amicable relationship with her plus a close relationship with his college-bound daughter Blake (Daddario). Emma, however, is moving on and moving in with millionaire developer Daniel (Ioan Gruffudd).
The scenario leading to all the action takes place while Blake waits for Daniel in the lobby of one of his buildings in San Francisco and Emma is meeting with Daniel’s sister (Kylie Minogue) for the first time atop a building in Los Angeles. Meanwhile, Ray is on his way to Nevada where a massive earthquake has just devastated the Hoover Dam, but wait, he’s just received a call from Emma. The ground is shaking in L.A. “Get to the roof…” Ray says, “I’m coming to get you!” Add an British job applicant (Hugo Johnstone-Burt) and his little brother (Art Parkinson) to the mix once disaster strikes San Francisco and you have your movie.
None of this is to say San Andreas is necessarily bad. In fact, for what it is, it serves its audience well enough. I was mostly impressed by how Daddario actually looks like she could be Gugino’s daughter, but then again I didn’t need director Brad Peyton (Journey 2: The Mysterious Island) to destroy California to prove that, a simple Google Images search would have sufficed.
This is a movie where you’re walking in, expecting the ground to shake, rattle and roll and that it does. You’re expecting buildings to topple, and boy do they ever. Buildings just crumble in fact, and if you’ve seen the trailer you’re expecting a tsunami and you won’t be disappointed. If there’s any difference between San Andreas and the disaster epics that came before it, it’s that the effects are a smidge more impressive, spectacular even. Oh wow!
As for the film’s actual narrative, well, if what I’ve told you so far is enticing, add a giant American flag draped from the Golden Gate Bridge at the end as one character asks, “Now what?” The answer… “We rebuild.” Cue the strings, stamp it “‘Murica”, hop in your Ford pickup and let’s go chug a Coors. (It’s the banquet beer don’tcha know?) Earthquake? Hell, this is America. We’ll get our buffest action star to rip doors off and punch that damned earthquake in the throat if we have to. Roll credits you roody-poo candy ass!
