2012

2012 (Roland Emmerich, dir; 158 mins; 2009)

Despite the apocalyptic theme, the primary connection between 2012 and the biblical text is the story of the flood (the Mayan apocalypse supplies only the date). Jackson Curtis (Cusack), the protagonist, has a son named Noah. The vessels that allow some to escape the apocalypse are called “arks,” and the film offers several shots of animals being ferried onto the arks. Of course, science—not divine revelation—reveals the impending disaster and the pathway to the elite’s salvation. Genetics also determines those to be saved, not righteousness. The elite, of course, get (or pay) for special deals. Perhaps, that motif is closer to the biblical idea that God’s favorites are the saved.

But, the film has little room for God or religion. One sequence is particularly compelling. The President of the U.S. stays behind to tell his people of the coming disaster and to lead them in praying Ps 23 (the Italian leader also prays with his people). Almost immediately, upheavals destroy the Washington Monument, the Sistine Chapel, and St. Peter’s Basilica (in another sequence, the statue of Christ over Rio de Janero comes tumbling down). The basilica crushes many worshipers. Perhaps, the growing split between the fingers of Adam and God is the film’s clearest statement about traditional religion.

Not surprisingly, then, when conspiracy nut Charlie Frost (Harrelson) talks about the apocalypse, he describes it wonderfully as a scenario that only Hollywood could concoct (my single favorite moment in the film). He, then, goes on to list various religions and texts that mention such. In his list, the only item qualified is the Bible, which only “kind of” speaks of apocalypse. Harrelson’s Frost is a gift that keeps on giving in the film. He knows the end is coming but stays behind to watch “because it’s so beautiful.” Can you imagine a better depiction of the voyeuristic joy of apocalypse? Derrida would be so happy. Not surprisingly, just before Frost dies, he exhilarates, “Remember, you heard it first from Charlie.” It’s a wonderful paraphrase of Derrida’s idea that the joy of apocalypse is being the one to be right in the instant before death. Not coincidentally, the President’s assistant, the chief villain of the film, observes with irritation that one of the great annoyances of the disaster is that the nut jobs with cardboard signs were right all along.

Finally, despite the evil politicians and the manipulations of the elite, the film asserts that basic human decency, not God or traditional religion, will ultimately save us (or, at least, some of us). The protagonist Curtis is an unsuccessful science fiction author whose one book, Farewell Atlantis, has sold a whopping 442 copies. The critics panned the book because he dared to suggest that people would finally act sacrificially and selflessly in the apocalyptic finale (cf. The Day the Earth Stood Still). No one believes that given everyday life. But, in the film’s finale, that is, of course, exactly what happens. Surprisingly, the scientist Adrian Helmsley has the important speech. Quoting Curtis’ book, Helmsley opines that the moment we stop fighting for each other, that’s the moment we lose our humanity. In striking contrast to the Genesis flood story, the gates of the arks are, then, opened to the children of the earth. It’s a pretty tale, and the apocalypse becomes simply a device to reaffirm humane values and to restore Curtis’ broken family (cf. The War of the Worlds).