Two comet films enter, one comet film leaves.
The summer of ’98 featured Michael Bay’s Armageddon versus this more-melancholy disaster film, and I prefer the latter.
Sure, Mimi Leder’s flick lays on the cheese pretty thick, but it’s better-acted, far more emotional, and tries to be more than just two hours-plus of blow-em-up special effects.
When the fiery finale arrives, and we lose a chunk of the name cast, we’ve come to care deeply about their fates.
Téa Leoni’s whispered “Daddy…” as she clutches Maximilian Schell on the beach stabs me to the core.
It’s raining space debris, and tears.