![]() |
Newman and McQueen tackle a huge blaze in The Towering Inferno |
The Towering Inferno was the peak of the “all-star
disaster” genre. It was bought to the screen by Producer (and “Master of
Disaster”) Irwin Allen, and pretty much ticks all the boxes you expect from the
genre. A star at every turn! A huge running time! Constant denials that
anything could go wrong (of the “This building can’t burn down!” variety)! Kids
in peril! Death-defying stunts! A brave pet! An elder statesman of Hollywood risking
life and limb! A scoundrel we can boo! A tear-jerking death! The Towering
Inferno pretty much has it all, and it plays every single beat with the
sort of po-faced seriousness that was already starting to look a bit silly by
1974.
Films like this work because audiences – as we’ve seen time
and time again – never lose their taste for watching things get trashed. In the
1970s every studio wanted its own mega-budget disaster film. The Towering
Inferno’s real uniqueness is the story behind its making – two studios had
competing “Skyscraper on Fire!” projects but, instead of competing, pooled
their resources to make one mega hit. So, Warner Brothers The Tower and
20th Century Fox’s The Glass Inferno became this.
Irwin Allen was handed the keys – because no-one did it
better – and each studio contributed a star. McQueen and Newman spent almost as
much time negotiating equal terms as acting in the movie. Both were paid 10% of
the gross and agreed they would have exactly the same number of lines (many of
Newman’s final scenes sees him perform stunts wordlessly, as he burned through his
allotted lines during the 40 minutes he spends on screen before McQueen turns
up). The billing was negotiated carefully: their names would appear on screen
together with Newman slightly higher, but McQueen’s name to the left (both
could therefore claim they were “first billed”).
Their interest in the film pretty much ended there. Newman
was famously disparaging of what he called “a piece of shit” and the only time
he did something purely for the money. He coasts through on those blue eyes and
twinkly grin. Eager that his character be absolved of responsibility (he has
designed a tower that will claim 200 lives!) Newman’s architect is continuously
absolved of any responsibility by the rest of the cast and leads on saving
lives. McQueen grabbed the better role as the all-action fire-chief, riding in after
45 minutes (thus wisely missing out the tedious build-up of the soapy plot
lines), takes charge and does nothing but manly action, but he also looks like
someone going through the motions.
But then they know the things that will be remembered are
the set-pieces. As flames stretch up the building, our star names dodging
explosions, climbing up shattered staircases, dodging collapsing ceilings and taking
on vertigo-inducing heights, it’s hard not to be excited. As in all disaster films,
the disaster takes a strong moral stance. Of all the characters who die only
one ‘doesn’t deserve it’. Aside from that, the actors playing philanderers, swindlers
and bastards inevitably bite the dust, while the upstanding and noble pretty
much see their way to the end.
The disaster sequences are impressive – and the fire-effects
are really well done. Allen directed the ‘action sequences’ – aka the only bits
of the film you really remember – while Guillermin handled ‘the acting’ (the
dull, soapy, badly written bits you forget). The cardboard characters (no
wonder they catch fire so easily!) could have had their personalities scribbled
on the back of a stamp, and are pretty much dependent on the charms of the
actors playing them. Fred Astaire’s gentle conman (the sweetest grifter you’ll
ever meet) is a ludicrous character, but works because of Astaire’s twinkle-toed
charm (Astaire grabbed a wave of affectionate awards nominations). Jennifer
Jones plays off him rather well in the film’s ‘heroic elder statesman of
Hollywood’ role, as a woman who puts herself at huge risk to save two kids (and
their deaf mum) from immolation.
But pretty much all the character-based stuff in Towering
Inferno is ludicrously silly, with some strikingly bored actors (Faye
Dunaway looks like she wants to be anywhere else) but it hardly matters as we
are there to watch the world burn. Which it does to spectacular effect, and the
reassuringly, camp predictability of the film’s events is endearing – and
raises a few good-natured laughs (you have to laugh at something like this,
even though it wants to take itself so seriously). The Towering Inferno
was the largest of all the disaster flicks of the 1970s. Allen shoehorns in a
few points about fire safety in tall buildings for the ‘serious bits’, but his
heart is in consigning most of the second tier of his all-star cast to dramatic,
firey deaths. Overlong, very silly but rather sweet.
as you said one of the best of the disaster flicks..and who could resist a Newman/McQueen project. Have heard the McQueen had a shady side and could be unpleasant and scene stealing like in the Magnificent 7 but was Newman really that obsessed with billing and line count or was he just trying to keep up with Steve ?
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading! I think it was keeping up with the McQueenses... also of course Newman was used to be unquestioned top dog even when he made those films with Redford!
DeleteI like this movie a lot more than the reviewer here but they make some good points. In defense of the film, Newman is (whether opposed to the material or not) quite good and credible in the role of a conflicted architect. (an interesting idea: the designer is suddenly trapped in his own design - not exactly fluff writing) I would not say that McQueen isn't committed to his role, in fact, he relished his time learning how to really fire-fight along real firemen. He is the anchor to the film and you can't do that by being detached or disdainful. And you can't sum up the film without mentioning John Williams Oscar nominated score. (and not to forget that this film was nominated for 8 Academy Awards including Best Picture and won for editing and cinematography - some noble wins in a tough year.) This was Williams's second block-buster score sending him off in the trajectory of greatest film composer of the blockbuster of all time.
ReplyDeleteDon't get me wrong, I like this film as well - but it's also a big, silly film with big, fun set-pieces (and the odd nice guy or gal plunging to an undeserved flame-consumed death). I may have been harder on McQueen - but I can also imagine he was way more interested in learning about fire fighting and working with real crews, than he might well have been in shooting many of the actual scenes. I found Williams' score a bit forgettable (I can't remember it now and I only watched it a few days ago) compared to other efforts, but I'll agree the cinematography of the fire is very well done (even if an Oscar feels generous - just as the editing one seem to reflect the scale rather than art of editing - and also I think Earthquake won two oscars that year as well...). But I see your points definitely - hopefully I wasn't too harsh, as it is a fun film.
DeleteMy question has always been, why the heck is OJ Simpson STILL holding onto that cat at the very end? Didn't he have something else he needed to be doing? I've tried to hold onto a frightened cat more than once and it's not something you do casually. He hangs on to it for what -- 15? 20 minutes? He doesn't put it in a box or hand it to someone else so that he can tend to his fireman business?
ReplyDeleteIt was probably a good excuse not to head back in - "Can't go sorry, I'm looking after this cat..."
Delete