‘The Towering Inferno’: THR’s 1974 Review
On Dec. 16, 1974, 20th-Fox and Warner Bros. unveiled in theaters what would become a landmark disaster movie: The 170-minute, John Guillermin-directed Towering Inferno. The movie, which took in $116 million domestically at the time, tops The Hollywood Reporter’s list of greatest disaster movies of all time. THR’s original review of the feature is below:
Movie technology is the star of this awesome Irwin Allen production, a formula disaster picture made into an event by the sheer size of its inflating production values. More ordeal than entertainment, it overwhelms the spectator like a bully playing on the fears of a society trapped in its own burning affluence.
More from The Hollywood Reporter
Since the screenplay by Stirling Silliphant has nothing new to say (the “insanity” of building skyscrapers is dealt with in Earthquake), and the general doomsday appeal of the disaster genre has already been established, The Towering Inferno‘s appeal lies entirely in immediate visceral reactions.
So, like Cecil B. DeMille before him, Irwin Allen gives the public the biggest thrills that money can buy.
Jointly financed by 20th-Fox and Warner Bros., the project joins two similar novels: The Tower by Richard Martin Stern and The Glass Inferno by Thomas N. Scortia and Frank M. Robinson. The tallest building in San Francisco catches fire during its gala dedication ceremonies trapping an all-star cast who must be rescued from the upper floors through the ingenuity of fire fighters.
Like the technology it glorifies, the film itself is a feat of engineering. Producer Allen, with multi-camera cinematographer Joe Biroc, directed the action scenes. Reliable John Guillermin was assigned to direct the actors. The task of making the stars look good in the middle of massive interior lighting considerations fell to cinematographer Fred Koenekamp. But the dialogue scenes are as perfunctory as the action scenes thrilling.
Silliphant’s screenplay works hard to maintain tensions through connect-the-dots plot construction. It hardly matters that the characterization is scanty and contrived or that the dialogue is full of weak liberal posturing. Playing it safe philosophically, the blame for the fire is tied to payoffs and kickbacks undermining the architect’s building specifications, while the virtues of duty and bravery are associated with the firemen (to whom the film is dedicated). The reassurance is that everything would be fine if architects and fire fighters would just get together beforehand.
The 138-story skyscraper is a composite of location work, sets and special effects photography (by L.B. Abbott), and we are denied no angle as it spectacularly burns. Architecturally, it has a plastic modern fake elegance, believably conceived by production designer William Creber.
The fire and explosion scenes depend on the mechanical effects of A.D. Flowers and Logan Frazee, the sound of Herman Lewis and the stunt coordination of Paul Stader, which includes the most convincing human bodies on fire ever executed for the camera.
Editors Harold Kress and Carl Kress successfully use all the tricks of the trade to join the progression of jeopardy scenes and a set variety of cutaway shots without losing audience interest or betraying artifice.
Steve McQueen as the head fire fighter and Paul Newman as the architect share the heroics equally. William Holden as the builder of the tower and Richard Chamberlain as his corner-cutting subcontractor (and son-in-law) share the guilt. Chamberlain’s is the only challenging role and absorbing performance.
Jennifer Jones, looking fit and attractive, not only gets to play romantic scenes with a still charming Fred Astaire, but also struggles gamefully through tough physical ordeals. Faye Dunaway as Newman’s romantic interest and Susan Blakely as Chamberlain’s wife just get to be brave.
Robert Wagner and Susan Flannery make the most of their short screen time as tragic early casualties. Robert Vaughn is a cliche Senator big on urban renewal. Jack Collins as the mayor of San Francisco and Sheila Mathews as his wife have nothing more to do than be devoted and resigned. O.J. Simpson is in charge of tower security.
Michael Lookinland and Carlena Gower are the regulation children involved. Felton Perry and Ernie Orsatti are fire fighters.
The big and portentous orchestrations of John Williams play right through both exposition and action scenes like oppressive Musak. Maureen McGovern sings “We May Never Love Like This Again,” by Al Kasha and Joel Hirshhorn. Paul Zastupenevich designed some very elegant gowns for the women. — John H. Dorr, originally published on Dec. 16, 1974.
Best of The Hollywood Reporter