S.O.S!
What’s a disaster movie without an awful lot of disaster? A drama about morality and self-sacrifice. Get me IRwin Allen.
Despite being trapped by quarantine rules for nearly three years and pining for an escape to anywhere, Han Jae-rim’s air disaster drama Emergency Declaration | 비상선언 provides a painful reminder of why we hate travelling as much as we love it. Early on the film unfolds like a classic ensemble 1970s disaster movie. We get overlapping scenes of our key players, and adjacent characters, getting ready for their trip. Here’s Jae-hyuk (Lee Byung-hun) fussing over his daughter, who suddenly needs to go the to bathroom just as they get to the front of the snaking check-in line. There’s a detective, In-ho (Song Kang-ho), getting reamed by his adult daughter for forgetting her mother/his wife was heading to Hawaii that day as he begins to look into a threat made online about a plane being targeted for terror. Amid the parking madness and aggravating passengers, the flight crew, led by co-pilot Hyun-soo (Kim Nam-gil) and boss flight attendant Hee-jin (Kim So-jin) prep for take-off. It’s all shot with that wide angle and camera fidget that suggests people on the go, go, go. It’s also a solid reminder of how shitty flying can be.
It’s all very Irwin Allen, “The Master of Disaster” who became a mega-producer in the ’70s thanks to his string of ridiculous and ridiculously entertaining disaster epics, starting with The Poseidon Adventure. Things start strong, with the pacing, “all roads” tone and sprawling cast intro demonstrating classic disaster infrastructure. Song and Lee are stars for a reason, and they’re always able to make drivel more engaging. Song is doing his hair-trigger teddy bear thing, and Lee is trying his hand at the Everyman dad. But eventually Emergency Declaration gets bogged down in its own importance and bloat, and loses its way in its desperation to jerk tears.
Into this set-up steps Jin-seok (ZE:A pop star Im Si-wan), looking every bit the psychopath and trying to find a crowded plane to board. No good can come of this. After freaking out Jae-hyuk, he follows him onto his Honolulu-bound flight. Woot! Isn’t that where In-ho’s wife is heading? Damn straight. Once on the plane, things go sideways when Jin-seok hatches his bonkers plan to infect everyone onbord with a deadly virus (this film started shooting in mid-2020) and exact revenge for… something. Trying to contain the evolving disaster are Hyun-soo and Hee-jin, as the passengers become increasinly unhinged. It’s in Act 2 that we get the rack-to-medium shot of the Korean Minister of Transport (Jeon Do-yeon) as she spins around in a hallway. She’ll be handling the disaster on the ground.
The first half of Emergency Declaration – which we’re told in the prologue is a sweeping statement pilots can make and so demand space on the closest runway in an, erm, disaster – is a polished, slick, and silly diversion made better by a stellar cast and typically high production values. As the virus spreads and the bodies start dropping writer-director Han Jae-rim (The King) cranks up the (modest) tension with selfish divisions among the passengers and claustrophobic spaces. Naturally, Jae-hyuk isn’t just a dad; he’s semi-retired pilot who will have to get past personal trauma to save the day. Etc. Etc.
But just as you think the film is about to wrap up, a quick glance at the clock says there’s an hour (!) to go. Da fuq? Han pivots away basic disaster and towards a meditation on medical ethics, the scientific method, geopolitical relations, humanitarianism and humanism. As the flight with a seemingly endless gas tank gets turned away from, first, the United States, then Japan, and finally even home turf, the film turns into a slog about protectionism at what cost. Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan summarised this quagmire in a single seven-minute scene (“The needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few, or the one.”), so there was no reason to realise every Korean’s nightmare fuel on screen (getting a passenger jet shot out of the sky, getting dissed by the Japanese, and a fast-spreading killer virus). The morality play not only brings the action to a screeching halt, it forces a second, entirely unrelated film into the one that started at Incheon airport. One thing disaster films rarely are is dead serious. Han’s misguided attempt to inject some gravitas into Emergency Declaration really only made it longer, not more thoughtful. Just let us watch Jae-hyuk handle that puppy like a Hyundai and demonstrate why you should always be belted in while seated. That’s good enough. — DEK