On Twitter today, I responded to a tweet from Indiewire's Eric Kohn, wherein he noted that today is the birthday of the following people: Orson Welles, George Clooney, Gabby Sidibe, Max Ophuls, and Sigmund Freud. I proposed the idea of these individuals possibly making up the best cast that could be imagined for an Irwin Allen-style 70's disaster movie (complete with exclamation mark). Thanks to the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, I have a perfect plot to be ripped from the headlines. I decided to waste some time writing about how I would envision Oil Spill! as made today.
The expected major impediment to using all the listed people is, of course, that Welles, Freud, and Ophuls are long-dead. I've figured out a creative way around that that doesn't strain credibility any more than the idea for this piece (and potential series). Here's my spoiler-heavy summary of this will-never-be movie:
Crisis hits the U.S. Gulf Coast region when a British Petroleum oil rig sinks and spills hundreds of thousands of gallons of oil. A luxury ocean liner based out of Cancun is stranded in the middle of the spill, with the world's great scientific minds onboard for a conference on renewable energy. Among a couple of thousand people are wunderkind chemical engineer/single mom Sandy Nichols (Gabby Sidibe) and Richard "Dick" McLanahan (George Clooney), the "drill baby drill" former oil man who is now President of the United States. The President was due to give a keynote speech on the viability of fossil fuels just minutes after the oil rig goes down. Making things worse, the oil around them ignites, creating a giant ring of flames.
Further crisis strikes when food poisoning levels all the most brilliant minds in the world along with most of the crew. Among the few who didn't eat the fish at lunch are Sandy, President McLanahan, Michael Bay (playing himself and onboard for no apparent reason), and the expressionist filmmaker husband of the German chancellor (Inglourious Basterds' Sylvester Groth, who would look like Max Ophuls if bald). While searching the ship for a means of escape, they find a Colombian smuggler named Paco (Luis Guzman) watching over a cryogenic chamber in the cargo hold. Inside is none other than Sigmund Freud (Christian McKay as Orson Welles as Freud).
During a very forced conversation full of questionable science, we discover that the oil spill can be contained through a controlled series of explosions. Bay interjects with "so what you're saying is...we've got to blow up the Gulf of Mexico. [pause] Mr. President, yes we Mexi-can."
The problem is, they don't have the necessary explosives or air support to deliver the boom-boom in time to save everyone on the ship. Bay makes an offhanded reference to The President having been a former National Guardsman who flew a helicopter during the invasion of Panama (Clooney wears age makeup and plays older, roll with me here), but that's of no use until...
They discover that there are both a massive smuggled shipment of C4 and a helicopter on the ship. President McLanahan starts having a panic attack. He hasn't flown since Panama due to his daughter and wife dying in a private jet crash. They have no choice but to unfreeze Freud, who is the only one who can get The President's head right in time to save everyone. Freud goes through a "so this is the future" discovery/awakening montage as they move the C4 from the bottom of the ship to the top.
In a freak accident, Paco and Michael Bay are blown up when Bay rests a lighted cigarette too close to their bundle of C4 just as he says "fuck Titanic" while arguing with Paco about James Cameron's talent relative to Bay's. The resulting explosion blows a hole in the side of the ship, which begins to capsize and break in half at the same time. "Fuck Titanic" indeed. It's a race against physics for The President, Sandy, the German filmmaker, and Freud to get to the chopper in time.
They finally get to the helipad, narrowly escaping electrical fires and the Bengal Tigers that Bay brought on board with him. It's a two-person chopper. The Germans sacrifice themselves valiantly at the last minute by pushing the helicopter off its moorings and staying on the ship. Insert gigantic megaton explosion and fish fry joke.
After saving...not much of anyone but himself and the female lead, The President marries Sandy, symbolizing post-racial, post-body image America in one fell swoop.
We close at a press conference with the Prime Minister of Great Britain (Stephen Fry) denouncing the President for blowing up/killing the greatest scientific minds of the world, since a rescue was on the way. The President declares war on Great Britain, citing a needed regime change. Cut to black, roll credits against AC/DC's "T.N.T.", with the first being a pseudonymous "An Irwin Allen II Film" credit for Roland Emmerich.
This whole thing has been cooked up in less than an hour, but how much more ridiculous is it than sending oil drillers into space to save us from an asteroid?