As usual, spoilers galore ...

[apocalypsos]

The Day After Tomorrow: A Review in Q&A Form

So, did you go to see the disaster movie today?

If you mean "The Day After Tomorrow," yes ... yes, I did. It was as bad as I'd hoped it would be, and so much more. I'm in love, and we shall marry, and our union shall be bliss.

Uh, is that a good thing or a bad thing?

Don't mock my love life, damn you.

But it's impossible for someone to be in love with a movie.

Oh, really? See, when a troll and a disaster movie love each other very, very much --

GAH! My eyes! Stop talking about your unholy desire to see humanity ravaged and tell me what the movie was about, damn you.

All right, all right. You know how oil is like the bestest thing ever and nothing's quite as fun as roasting marshmallows over a burning rainforest? Oh, and you know that one time, when you hacked away a big chunk of Arctic ice that size of [insert any random U.S. state here] just because you totally could? Yeah, well, all of that was really, really bad, as it apparently results in Mother Nature having some sort of long-term psychotic episode and fucking up the planet.

Fucking up the planet? How bad does this great big blue marble get hit?

Oh, real bad. There's hail in Tokyo the size of your head, and tornadoes in L.A. that are so smart they head directly for the tourist traps, and snow and ice and typhoons and rains of toads and locust clouds and cats and dogs living together and spontaneous pillow fights in the streets. It's not pretty.

Hey, isn't Jake Gyllenhaal in this? And Dennis Quaid? Those are pretty.

Yes. Yes, they are. And just for fun, somewhere in the middle of a new ice age, both of them make it down to their boxers.

Oh, they do not.

No, seriously. Obviously, the best way to combat global warming is for all the good-looking people to get naked.

Okay, now that's definitely not true.

Would you rather the pretty people stay dressed and take your chances?

Okay, so maybe you have a point.

Enough mindless yammering. Introduce me to our genetically blessed victims, Oh Snarky One!

Your insane blathering is my command.

Jack Hall ... He's a paleoneomedicoarcheowhosawhatchamacalliclimatologist, which I'm pretty sure is a job title he just made up to pick up chicks, and yes, I really can say that out loud. Is the only one who seems to get what the hell is going on, so of course no one listens to him until the very last minute when they do, at which point they let him walk from D.C. to New York in hundred-degree-below temperatures and happily wave him bon-voyage like a bunch of rubes. Comes complete with Crusty Old Best Friend Sidekick and Insufferable Young Hornball Sidekick.

Sam Hall ... Jack's son, blessed with brains, bravery, and Faux Dennis Quaid's imaginary DNA. Must be pulling an incredible number of strings to be that lucky, and therefore must die, preferably with a great big wave and evil icicles and CGI wolves. Comes complete with Biggest Nerd in the Room Sidekick and I'd-Nail-You-If-It-Weren't-For-This-Pesky-Blood-Poisoning Sidekick.

Dr. Lucy Hall ... Jack's estranged wife and Sam's mother, thereby making her the lifeguard for one of the prettiest gene pools I've ever seen. Played by Sela Ward, which means she's got tons of experience being all tragic and whatnot. Comes complete with We-Need-To-Get-Out-Of-Here-You-Weepy-Dumbass Sidekick and Small Child Cutely Dying of Cancer sidekick.

Bilbo Baggins, Live at Five Weatherman ... Okay, so that's not really his name, but as he's played by Ian Holm and that's all I could think of whenever I saw him -- not to mention I'm too lazy to look up his real character name and it can't be possibly be any better than Bilbo Baggins, Live at Five Weatherman -- watch me care. The only one who believes Jack's not out of his gourd early on, which is funny because he's probably the only person in the movie who's less mentally stable. Comes complete with Dorky Soccer Hooligan Sidekick and I'll-Never-See-My-Adorable-Woobie-Of-An-Infant-Grow-Up Sidekick.

The President ... Is absolutely not meant to be George W. Bush. You can tell this because in the middle of a national crisis, he apparently never, ever, ever, ever leaves the Oval Office. Until, you know, he totally does at the very last minute and flash-freezes halfway to Mexico. That'll teach you to be a brave American, you asshat.

The Vice-President ... Is absolutely not supposed to be Dick Cheney. You can tell this because he thanks Third-World countries for their hospitality and manages to go two hours without a major coronary episode.

So, how's the science in this movie?

Science? What's this strange language of which you speak?

Science. You remember, that class you ate Cheetos in all the time.

Uh, you're going to have to narrow that down.

Okay, look. Does the story make sense or not?

Dude, an entire hemisphere of the planet is destroyed, and no giant robots, evil masterminds, or wayward meteors are involved. Of course it doesn't make sense. That's not the point.

Then what is the point?

Well, let's see. Tokyo gets squished, L.A. gets squished, New York gets squished, and just for fun for somebody like me, D.C. gets squished, too.

But you live in the D.C. area!

Yes, I know, which made the scene where the news shows D.C. residents calmly raiding a supermarket in preparation for the twenty thousand feet of snow that's coming just that much funnier. Especially since people around here go twice as nuts at a Safeway if the Weather Channel announces their anchor has dandruff today.

How does the whole New Ice Age thing work anyway?

Well, see, the polar ice caps start melting or something, and the salt in the ocean gets all fucked up and low, and the next thing you know, New York is a pool and L.A. is a parking lot. See? Low salt is bad for you. I've been arguing that with everyone I've ever shared movie popcorn with, but does anyone listen? Nooooo.

So, the President is absolutely not Bush, right? And the Vice President's absolutely not Cheney, right?

Yes, much in the same way that the Military Cabinet Member is absolutely not Colin Powell and the Only Chick in the Cabinet is absolutely not Condoleeza Rice. Let's call them ... er, President Topiary, and Vice President Whiplike, and Secretary Intestines, and ... uh, Secretary N' Beans.

Uh, why?

Why not?

Okay, I'm convinced.

So, how's the dialogue?

Oh, it's solid-gold shit. Like when Jack and his two Sidekicks of Doom get stranded, and he says, "Unpack the snowshoes. We're walking to New York from here." Here, by the way, is just outside of Philly after they've driven from Washington, and I imagine that the next line of dialogue that ended up on the cutting room is Crusty Best Friend Sidekick snapping, "Sure, boss, I'll just pull those out of my ass like I've been doing with the gas for the truck since we left D.C."

Sheesh, that's bad. How are the characters?

Well, they aren't the least bit interesting, but if they were, it wouldn't be half as much fun watching them get all frozen and drowny and sucked up and spit out by tornadoes.

Ooo-kay. And the special effects?

They're swell! Did you know you can see New York City streets from space?

No, you can't.

Sure, you can. In fact, if you squint, you can see Jake Gyllenhaal's pretty, pretty eyes through the walls of the New York public library clear up to the space station.

Admit it, you apoca-junkie. You left the theater seriously contemplating starting a "Day After Tomorrow" crossover fanfic community on LJ.

Uh, I ... er ... that is ...

I feel shame.

And your final verdict ...

The screenwriter should be disemboweled. However, I'd produce a firstborn child if it meant I could get the director's cut DVD right the fuck now.

You're going to see it again tomorrow, aren't you?

Well, can you blame me? This movie covered very single one of my disaster movie kinks. It's like mass carnage porn.

Okay. So is there anything you feel like adding before you finish?

You mean, aside from the fact that "Rock You Like a Hurricane" came on the radio while I was writing this and I damn near died laughing?

How about that the people who made "The Chronicles of Riddick" obviously never read the Evil Overlord List? Clear plexiglass visors on your minions, people. That's all I'm saying.