If ever there was a good setting for a decent movie featuring lots of lava, I would think the story of how Mount Vesuvius blew would be intriguing. However, if you put Paul W.S. Anderson in charge of such a movie, well, you will probably end up with a pile of crap. Anderson has a way of destroying interesting premises with his sloppy directorial hand. For prime examples of how he screws things up old school, see Alien vs. Predator, Resident Evil, Afterlife, The Three Musketeers or Death Race. Or, better yet, don’t see them. Anderson takes the historic eruption and makes it the basis for what he probably hoped would be his Titanic. He has a love story, he has a lot of people scurrying for their lives, and he even has the mournful female vocals that sound a lot like Celine Dion. What he doesn’t have are magnetic stars, decent special effects or a sense of pacing and continuity. When the volcano finally erupts, people have time for serious conversation, various sword fights and whatnot. I don’t think so, fellas. It should be noted that this film contains the very worst Kiefer Sutherland performance ever put to film, so it accomplishes something in the end.