I’ve always loved disaster films and dystopian films. As a kid, I was fascinated by movies such as Damnation Alley, Earthquake, and Planet of the Apes. In Damnation Alley there were hordes of cockroaches that ate everything, including people, chewing their victims down to bare bone (eek!). In Earthquake, people were trapped in various deadly situations, including a burning skyscraper (classic!). And pretty much everything about Planet of the Apes is awesome, especially the big reveal at the end–the ultimate disaster! As an adult, I’ve added movies such as 2012, Starship Troopers, Independence Day, San Andreas, and Armageddon to my list of movies to watch when the disaster-film mood strikes.
The best disaster films draw out the tension at the beginning. We, the audience, know that danger is brewing, but the main characters don’t know it yet, except perhaps a handful of scientists who, for one reason or another, can’t warn anyone. The characters go about their daily business blissfully unaware, witnessing dire developments but often passing them off as mere inconveniences or simply items of interest. Meanwhile, we the audience are on the edges of our seats with every new sign of impending doom.
There’s so much material available for making disaster movies. Anything can be made scary, even things that exist only in fantasy. But I think that the most effective disaster movies are those that focus on reality-based threats (i.e., earthquakes, nuclear war, asteroids, etc.), because viewers can more easily imagine themselves in the story.
For example, a disaster film about bird flu would hit really close to home. I can imagine exactly how it would go. It would open with a montage. First there would be footage from a few decades ago, when scientists first started speculating about the risk of a bird flu pandemic. Next would come images of articles about die-offs in wild bird populations, followed by pictures of sea lion corpses on a beach (a pivotal moment, because it shows that bird flu has moved into mammals, with devastating results).
Things are moving more rapidly now. We get quick blasts of images and narration about bird flu in cows, people fighting for their right to drink raw milk and screaming over the cost of eggs, and scenes of hazmat crews culling birds at poultry farms around the world.
The visuals now shift to specific people. A teenager in one country has a close call with the virus. A man in another country dies from it. Health officials declare that there’s nothing to be concerned about but quietly ask hospitals to expedite testing of patients who have the flu. To cap off the montage, we get scenes of government leaders making terrible decisions.
We, the audience, would cringe at the last, wondering how anyone could be that stupid. Then we’d remember that real-life leaders make bad decisions all the time. And indeed, some major government blundering would be needed for this movie’s plot to move forward. It’s so much harder to have an all-out disaster if the people in charge are doing things right.
So there you have it: a tense and riveting opening for a disaster film about bird flu. I can hardly imagine anything more terrifying. I’m on the edge of my seat just thinking about it. The script almost writes itself, and I won’t be surprised if you see a full-blown show on the very same theme coming soon to a theater near you.