SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK
Oh, yeah –
the boat that sank.
I have well
over a dozen books and movies relating to the doomed passenger liner, Titanic. While many date back to my
kids’ fascination with the subject after James Cameron’s move came out, I kept them
because of my own fascination with both history and disasters … and, of course,
the history of disasters.
We just
passed the 100th anniversary of the date the Titanic, on its maiden voyage, hit a patch of ice and slid off the
surface of the ocean, despite the efforts of the crew to patch the leaks with
third class passengers. It was a story of human error, class differences,
heroism and cowardice, and no small amount of irony.
You want
irony? Over 1,500 people died that night, but three dogs made it onto the
lifeboats. But in all fairness, they were small dogs.
As humans
we’re fascinated and appalled by large scale disasters like ships sinking,
wars, and the Kardashians. We want to understand what happened, how it effects
people and societies, and above all how to keep it from happening again (Or, if
you’re a reality TV programmer, how to make it happen again).
We’re also – let’s face it –
entertained. Disasters are like a train wreck: We’re horrified, but we can’t
look away. (Well … a train wreck would be a disaster, wouldn’t it?) How many TV
shows these days take advantage of the fact that everyone has a video camera?
The Weather Channel used to be about forecasting – now it’s about finding and
showing images of violent, damaging, terrifying things. The cast of The Jersey
Shore should show up in a half hour Weather Channel program any day now.
I’ve been watching disaster movies
since I was a kid, but still haven’t figured out why destruction is so much
more fun than construction. Godzilla and similar Japanese monster movies were my
thing. Every Saturday night, on The Double Creature Feature, some large beast
that looked suspiciously like a guy in a cheap suit demolished Tokyo. The best
ones were when Godzilla took on some other giant monster: Mothra, Ghidorah,
King Kong …
King Kong? Well, I guess he was
doing the tourist thing.
It didn’t take long for me to
realize disasters are fun, as long as they’re on film and not in real life.
Everyone else figured it out, too. The 70’s – in other words, my youth – were
an especially strong decade for disasters. I give you the Carter
administration. Since we’ve somehow segued into my youth, which was a catastrophe
in its own way, let’s take a look at some of the big disaster movies of that decade:
Earthquake.
Los Angeles goes down. I believe this
was my first experience with young music composer Johnny Williams, who later
went on to score sharks, aliens, lightsaber fights, and Nazi fighting
archeologists. Why L.A. instead of the more earthquake prone San Francisco?
Location shooting?
Meteor.
A giant rock heads right toward Sean Connery, who later goes on to star in The Rock. See how it all works out? New
York was the target this time.
The
Poseidon Adventure. A freak wave, possibly a Kardashian hair perm, turns a
passenger ship upside down, and the vessel begins sinking when a survivor
unthinkingly flushes the toilet. Another John Williams scored film – he was
scheduled to score Meteor, but backed
out to have his composing muscles treated for exhaustion.
City
On Fire. A city is on – oh, you guessed it. How did John Williams and I both
miss this movie? Henry Fonda as a fire chief!
The
Towering Inferno. We didn’t miss this one; in fact, this was the first
Williams score I ever owned. It was, like many good disaster movies, basically
an all-star soap opera set in a high rise that just happened to be burning.
The
Andromeda Strain: An alien virus threatens to kill all life on Earth! Those
aliens can get really touchy.
Where
Have All the People Gone? The Sun flashes, and almost everyone turns into
white powder. You can’t make up stuff like this. Okay, obviously you can …
The
China Syndrome. Jane Fonda’s activism melts down a nuclear power plant. I
might be remembering it wrong. By coincidence, the Three Mile Island nuclear
power plant accident happened just thirteen days after this movie was released.
Coincidence … or was it? This movie was almost completely devoid of music and
thus had no John Williams, so I skipped it.
Airport.
A blizzard strikes an airport, stranding every Hollywood star of the time on an
airplane that contained a bomb and was piloted by Dean Martin, who was probably
bombed. The movie proved so successful that three sequels were released before
the 70’s ended, despite the lack of Williams. It was a hard decade for
airplanes.
The
Black Hole. A spaceship is sucked into the US Federal debt.
That’s just a partial list – and
that just of disaster films from the 70’s. Is there any question that we’re all
fascinated when things go horribly wrong? It was good preparation for my later
attempts at using power tools.
I wonder if I can get John Williams
to score my next home repair job?
Funny, of course. I, too, would stay up late to watch Godzilla and other creature movies.
ReplyDeleteThe big monsters were fun ... the human sized ones were often too scary for me, I guess because they were easier to imagine in real life.
DeleteI've seen almost all of these, Mark...and I'm a longtime Godzilla fan. I've been a fan of disaster movies--even the really cheesy ones--since I was a kid watching Irwin Allen's films.
ReplyDeleteI'm looking forward to seeing the Kardashians and the cast of Jersey Shore on the Weather Channel!
Hopefully they'll be carried off by an EF5 tornado!
DeleteI could never get into the Godzilla movies because of the poor job of dubbing in English where there mouths were moving and ten seconds later you heard the dialog. 70's disaster movies were an excuse to get a bunch of B list actors together and then put them in harms way. But I have to say I still enjoy a cheesy disaster movie.
ReplyDeleteBut the bad dubbing and cheesiness is part of the fun!
DeleteI've seen some of these disaster films. Towering Inferno's really good, but any film with Paul Newman and Steve McQueen will tend to be that!
ReplyDeleteTrue enough! There was a line in McQueen's contract stating that he and Newman were to have to exact same number of lines; that's why Newman's character got awfully quiet later in the movie.
Delete