As future fodder for Austin’s snarky Master Pancake Theater, this newest entry in the perennial "California Gets It" disaster movie subgenre is a hoot. It’s also exactly what you expect it to be, which is to say it’s front-loaded with spectacular CGI scenes of everything west of the titular tectonic fault line either crumbling into dust, going up in fireballs, or being subsumed by the Pacific Ocean. A less-than-original ride on the end-of-the-world express, San Andreas
follows the disaster-flick template to the letter, as director Peyton serves up both what the audience knows best and, apparently, what they want most. With a final line of dialogue that will reverberate across the eons as one of the worst in Hollywood history, San Andreas
marks itself as a film that’s so awful it’s actually pretty great. This is how the world ends, not with a bang, but with a guffaw. Read a full review of San Andreas.