I guess the biggest problem with films that have nothing really to dislike about them is that they also really have nothing much to like either. They sit there on the screen and we watch them; they never bore us to the point where we feel as though our time and money have been wasted and yet they never seem to quite involve us either. Poseidon is a film like that in the sense that it more or less resembles the ship that its title refers. It is sometimes exciting as there are lots of loud noises, running water, and things to blow up real good, but when you strip all of that away it just kind of sits there, dead in the water. It is never boring, but its penchant for repetition is somewhat uninspiring.

The ship takes its name from the god of the ocean who made his home on the ocean floor. Who thought this would be a good name for a ship? I don’t know about you, but naming a ship after a god who made his home on the ocean floor seems kind of like a double negative doesn’t it? You might as well just invite trouble into your home for dinner.

It’s New Years Eve on the ship (why a big budget summer blockbuster takes place on New Years Eve is a question that eludes me). Regardless, we meet several passengers of the ship, some of which are played by familiar actors, guaranteeing them a sort of unsung diplomatic immunity by Hollywood’s terms; it would be senseless to cast Kurt Russell as a lead only to have him die off in the first scene. Steven Seagal on the other hand, is exempt from this rule.

These characters are mostly typecast to make up for a complete lack of characterization and include: Russell as Robert Ramsey, an ex-mayor of New York, ex-fire fighter, and apparently ex-stunt man, his daughter Jennifer (Emmy Rossum), and her boyfriend. There is also Dylan (Josh Lucas) the leader of the pack, Maggie and her son Conor, and a war torn Richard Dreyfuss as a heartbroken homosexual who is about to commit suicide by jumping off the edge of the boat after midnight before he sees a huge wave coming towards him. He then, in another instance of counter productivity, runs inside to save his life.

             If you haven’t gathered yet, the film’s plot is that, not long after midnight a large wave intersects the boat’s route, hitting the vessel and flipping it upside down. Those who do not die during this incredible process, plan on keeping the ship afloat by locking the doors to the ballroom, creating an air pocket which will ensure that the ship is always lighter than the water surrounding it. God bless grade 9 science.

Dylan, being the compulsive man that he is, is not satisfied with simply standing around waiting to die and thus devises a plan that if he can make it to the top of the ship (which is actually the bottom) he can get out through the tunnel where the propellers are mounted and survive. The rest of the primary cast, not wanting to stick around in the ballroom for the remainder of the film, decide to follow Dylan because, well if you cast Richard Dreyfuss, you just don’t leave him behind to die.

Who will live? Who will die? Will they find a way out or all simply drown for their efforts? All of these questions I will leave for you to discover as the rest of the plot is based on them in one way or another. However I will state that what remains of the plot is a terribly predictable and repetitive clothesline from which nonstop action sequences can be hung.

It’s not as though Poseidon is a bad film, it is in fact rather well made. It was directed by Wolfgang Petersen, the German director who gave us the underwater masterpiece Das Boot, entertained us with the Perfect Storm, and proved that computer generated armies are not nearly as exciting as real ones in Troy. Petersen is more often than not a good director who knows how to maneuver small spaces; to get the most out of the least, and he is the right director for this material as he is able to create tension from his claustrophobic environment.  Take a truly unnerving sequence in which the cast must crawl through a ventilation shaft. One of the characters is claustrophobic and begins to panic (I share her sentiments), and panic in a small space, as you probably know, can only lead to disaster.   

It’s a shame Petersen didn’t have a better script to work from, something that could have offered the director plot elements to elaborate on instead of just tossing out repetitious action sequences. The script itself is more or less comprised of small vignettes in which the cast encounter an obstacle, assess the situation, formulate a plan, brave the obstacle and repeat. These people aren’t just trapped on a ship; they are trapped within the redundancies of an under-ambitious screenplay. Which means, in the end, Poseidon is kind of like buying an album with the same track repeated twelve times. It might be a good song, but by the time you hit the one-hour mark you’re ready for track two.