Master of Disaster Roland Emmerich lives down to his reputation with what amounts to the biggest, most tricked-out snuff film of all time. A lumbering piece of digital vandalism, 2012 qualifies as value entertainment aimed at the very masses it succeeds in obliterating. During an end-of-days cataclysm allegedly anticipated by the Mayans, billions of innocent people bite the dust so that CGI effects wizards can cruelly test the limits of what's plausible and palatable. We can do better.

The entire universe could be destroyed more than once in the time it takes Emmerich, whose credits include Independence Day, Godzilla and The Day After Tomorrow, to rearrange planet Earth and dismantle human civilization. To be fair however, the two hours and thirty-eight minutes passes quickly enough and so the film's length turns out to be its least troubling aspect.

What should give pause as we watch the disaster movie to end all disaster movies is the nonchalant, almost sadistic way in which Emmerich and his colleagues go about their deadly business. Even within the context of a popcorn spectacle. The forced solemnity they attempt to ring from the proceedings sounds hollow and the jokes trigger fewer laughs than the ludicrous, B-movie dialogue. (For example, "Our culture is our soul and it's not dying tonight.")

2012 probably has the highest body count of any movie ever made and, while the carnage isn't graphic -- in fact, for the most part it happens off screen -- there's too much dissonance between the disregard for human life and the attempt to send a positive message about man's altruistic instincts and better nature. As Earth's crust breaks apart, quakes and tsunamis ravage familiar natural and manmade landmarks. But we are supposed to take heart because Doomsday brings out the best in White House geologist Adrian Helmsley (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and divorced science-fiction writer Jackson Curtis (John Cusack).

At least mankind is not accused of causing the disaster. It stems from an act of nature -- increased solar activity and the alignment of the planets -- that triggers the overheating of the planet's core. More quickly than Helmsley predicts, the process reaches critical mass on 12/21/2012. He has been working with the scientific community and governments to monitor the calamity and shape a response that includes an international plan to evacuate 400,000 fortunate souls. Exactly how they'll be spared is a surprise with definite biblical overtones.

Curtis, who has pondered such an eventuality in a sparsely selling book, realizes what's happening while camping with his two children in Yosemite, an epicenter of the catastrophe. Along with his ex (Amanda Peet) and her pompous beau (Tom McCarthy), they are perfectly positioned to witness California falling into the sea and Las Vegas being torn asunder. Back in the nation's capital, President Thomas Wilson (Danny Glover) chooses to act selflessly before an aircraft carrier flattens the White House and the Washington Monument topples onto hapless citizens. The Chinese Himalayas then become the plot's focal point as floodwaters reach the top of the Earth.

Not surprisingly, despite a plethora of religious imagery and references to faith and prayer, 2012 has no theological substance. It posits an ecumenical disaster in that no denomination or belief system is given favored status (assuming the ceremonial function played by an elderly monk at a Tibetan monastery is a geographic accident). And yet Emmerich dispatches the faithful at the Vatican with particular relish, collapsing the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel onto praying prelates and dropping the dome of St. Peter's Basilica onto the reverent masses assembled in St. Peter's Square.

The acting is predictably bad. Only Woody Harrelson, playing a pickle-eating radio prophet named Charlie Frost, and Oliver Platt, portraying cynical presidential aid Carl Anheuser, embrace the apocalyptic absurdity and have fun with their roles.

For all these reasons, it's difficult to feel hopeful let alone ennobled at the conclusion of 2012. Many will flock to it for the visual spectacle, but even that only impresses due to its scale. No matter how much money this one earns, the clock continues to tick on Hollywood extravaganzas. 

(Released by Columbia Pictures and rated "PG-13" for intense disaster sequences and some language.)