Imagine taking every big disaster film ever made, from The Towering Inferno and Earthquake, to The Poseidon Adventure, and squishing them all together into one film. You'd essentially have Roland Emmerich's 2012, a movie so shapeless of plot and devoid of meaning, that it's actually half way entertaining. If — and here comes the caveat — you remember to check your brain at the concession stand, the film's ridiculously simple premise and mind-numbingly overwrought effects are actually kind of fun.

The story begins with the usual scientists-discovering-an-imminent-cataclysmic-event scenario, which coincidentally ties to the Mayan civilization's "prediction" that the world will end on December 21, 2012. (The Mayans actually never made such a prediction—but that's a whole other topic. And even if they had, they apparently didn't have the foresight to predict that the Spanish would conquer them...so, so much for "predictions.")

Of course, the "science" in the film is scientific gobbledygook—something about a new form of neutrino bombarding the Earth during a massive coronal ejection from the Sun, which in turn heats up the Earth's core to such an extent that super volcanoes erupt, the planet's crust is destabilized, and the tectonic plates start shifting around. All of which means lots of fire and brimstone and flooding and screaming and running...and general nastiness.

Into mother nature's carnage, director Roland Emmerich tosses several disparate characters who attempt to outrun an apocalypse that promises to destroy almost all life on Earth. With the exception of the characters played by  John Cusak, Amanda Peet, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Thandie Newton and Oliver Platt, most everyone else is ultimately cannon fodder, and the film is definitely at its best when it showcases the magnificent visual effects that depict the global catastrophe. No actor can compete with a film so intent upon demonstrating its own visual prowess, and so the journeyman performances of the leads are serviceable, but incapable of rising above the background...because this film is all about the background: LA being torn asunder; California siding into the sea; Yellowstone going up in a super volcanic eruption; the Vatican crumbling; Waikiki in flames, etc.

Naturally, a story like this doesn't work without a ticking clock of some sort, and a goal that must be reached. In this case, the goal is getting to one of a small handful of arks that have been secretly constructed high in the mountains of China by the joint efforts of world governments, the private sector...and very wealthy donors (whose contributions guarantee them a "seat" on the ark).

The endgame on the ships — laden with two of almost every creature on Earth — is unabashedly Noah's ark redux, but we accept it, because it's probably exactly what we'd really do in such a circumstance to preserve as many of Earth's species as possible...provided we had time. What doesn't stand up to scrutiny is the film's suggestion that in the only two short years since the authorities became aware of Earth's imminent destruction, that governments and corporations were able to construct 2000+ foot long arks. With today's technology a US aircraft carrier — far smaller and less complex than the arks — takes seven years to build.

Despite the story's emphasis on visual spectacle and reliance on magic science, there are some funny and poignant scenes peppered throughout the film: the quiet moments of Tibetan mysticism; Woody Harrelson's quirky, deliciously over-the-top conspiracy theorist/mobile radio broadcaster; Danny Glover's President Wilson addressing the nation for the last time; and Adrian Helmsley's (Chiwetel Ejiofor) final conversation with his scientific colleague Dr. Satnam Tsurutani (Jimi Mistry) just as Tsurutani, his wife, and his child are about to be washed away by a gargantuan wave in India.

At the end of the day, 2012 is big, noisy and relentless. Emmerich milks almost every situation for all it's worth, as one peril leads to another, and an improbable solution is found that saves the stars but sacrifices the supporting players—some of whom inevitably deserve their comeuppances. At two hours and thirty-eight minutes, it's too long. But as I said at the outset, it's also fun. Go for the spectacle, don't invest too much in the characters, and forget logic—and you'll find that what you're left with is exactly what the promotional campaign promises, no more, no less.

It's the movie Irwin Allen would have made were he alive today.