DISASTER PROOF

By RICHARD SCHICKEL

The obsessed scientist whose instincts for catastrophe are more finely tuned than any predictive instrument; his bureaucratic superiors whose waffling makes a bad situation worse; businessmen determined to stifle talk about threats to life, limb and, above all, property for fear of the impact on their interests; a woman, scared but spunky and available for romance when she is not dodging falling objects; and, if possible, an adorable dog to be lost in whatever chaos the movie is trafficking in, then found and daringly rescued to the cheers of an audience that has stoically watched hundreds of anonymous human extras perish.

Disaster movies are our millennial No plays, totally stylized, totally predictable, but comforting in their familiarity. Whether the threat to domestic tranquillity is a ferocious shark, invading spacemen or a rogue volcano (as in Dante's Peak), it reassures us that nice people, if they are smart, brave and quick on their feet, will somehow survive.

Writer Leslie Bohem and director Roger Donaldson brush briskly through the standard scientific and romantic blather. They know that in movies like this, complexity is the province of the special-effects people. It's the same with the actors. Cool Pierce Brosnan and warm Linda Hamilton understand that their job is mainly to provide human scale for the lava flows and firestorms, the lake that turns to acid (the better to eat their boat) and the blizzard of volcanic ash that eventually buries a small town. We want to feel for them. But not too much. We want our doomsdays to be thrilling. But not scarily final. Or fatal to anyone's pooch.

--By Richard Schickel